How about another excerpt from STOP IN THE NAME OF LOVE by Nina Bruhns? This story features hunky undercover cop Russell Bridger and nursery school teacher Mary Alice Flannery. **** The blue SUV crunched to a halt several yards in front of him and Ms. Flannery made a big show of fussing with something on the seat beside her. Bridger pushed himself off the big Cat, tucked his sign under his arm and sauntered up to her car. According to her file, she wasn’t much younger than he was, but she came across that way. There were freckles sprinkled on her nose, and yesterday there’d been a little smudge of green paint on her cheek when she came home. Very cute. Not that he had any interest in cute. Definitely not his speed. Even so, a strand of long, reddish-gold hair had fallen out of the ugly bun on the top of her head, and he had to make a conscious effort not to reach over and tuck it back in. He gave her the once-over, twice. Or maybe tug out a little more. Draping an arm across the bottom of her open window, he looked in at her and smiled. “Mornin’ ma’am.” “Oh!” A pair of sunglasses flew from her hand onto the vehicle’s floor. He pushed his hard-hat up with a forefinger and peered down at the glasses, his gaze lingering for a moment on her fine, shapely legs. Instinctively, his gaze was drawn to the ring finger of her left hand resting nervously on the steering wheel—even though her background check had already told him what he’d find. Nada. Okay, so maybe she had piqued his interest. Just a little. He gave her a slow, easy grin. “Sorry to delay you, ma’am. Just have to radio ahead and make sure none of the trucks are heading this way.” She smiled back uncertainly. “Um. Sure.” Damn, she was sweet. Straightening, he folded his arms across the edge of her car roof, deliberately letting her get up-close and personal with his chest. In his imagination, he could see her cheeks flood with rosy color. As they had morning and afternoon for the past three days, every time he’d spoken with her. Ever since he’d seen her the first time and realized she was Charlie Watson’s neighbor, he’d made sure he stopped her car at the front of the line. So he could begin flirting with her, casually starting up an acquaintance that could serve him well in the stake-out. He chuckled. He hadn’t thought women actually blushed anymore. Judging by her increasingly flustered reaction to him, his campaign to attract her attention was working. Stifling a grin, he spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Deke, we got anything coming our way?” The radio squawked back, “You’re clear, Bridge.” “Thanks, bro.” He bent back into her window. Sure enough, her cheeks were red as sweet, ripe strawberries so real he could even smell them. Oh, yeah. This assignment was definitely growing on him.
Posted on: Thu, 10 Jul 2014 01:33:15 +0000
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