When I was younger, I desperately wanted to be a photographer. I wanted to be the one to capture all those precious moments from others and create memories that would last forever. Before I left college, I was well on my way to obtaining my dream. Now it seems I should’ve wished to do something else. Perhaps if I became a private investigator, the path I’m on wouldn’t be so disappointing. Day after day, I search for my birth mother, but I’m at my wits end. I’m not sure how much more I can take before I finally accept defeat. It’s not in my nature to give up, but what else can I do? Maybe if I had the skills and knowledge to find a person that doesn’t want to be found, then perhaps I would’ve at least gotten something out of moving to Mississippi.
Every day I wake up with these same thoughts. It’s never ending it seems. Laying back on the hotel room’s bed, I wish someone would just give me a sign that I’m in the right place at least. My instincts tell me I am, but then again I’m beginning to doubt them. I’m starting to wonder maybe if my parents never told me I was adopted, then I wouldn’t feel the way I do. It’s the endless unfilled hole in my heart that stops me from truly living these days, and I fear I’ll never be able to find the answers I seek. Closing my eyes, I conjure up bright blue eyes and a drop dead gorgeous smile in my mind. The cop from a week ago seems to be overtaking my brain more and more, but for whatever reason, his eyes and smile make me feel better. I’m not sure why it’s him of all people, but I can’t seem to stop myself. If I hadn’t been so stunned the day he came up to my rental car, maybe I would’ve remembered to get his name. C. Harlow isn’t something I want to call him, but beggars can’t be choosers. No matter the reason, when my thoughts go to the handsome and sarcastic cop, a smile forms on my face and my belly flutters. I don’t really question why anymore since it happens too often to count, and I can only hope I’ll run into him once more. I tell myself if fate is kind to me, and if I see him again, I’ll ask him his name. I’ll ask him if he loves his job, what his family is like, and what he looks like naked. Wait … No, not that. Moving off the bed, I shake my head. I mean of course, it’s only natural for me to think of the sexy cop naked, but I can’t go there. My reason, and only reason, for being here is to find my birth mother. Not fall into bed with a random guy, let alone a panty melting cop.
Glancing at my phone, I realize I’ve been wasting the day away in my thoughts. My work shift at Tampico Bay is quickly coming, and although I hate the thought of going into work to deal with drunk customers, I need the job. Being a bartender at the local bar in town isn’t exactly what I would call a dream job, but money doesn’t just appear out of thin air. Letting out a heavy sigh, I begin to get ready for work. I walk around the small hotel room trying to find some fresh clothes. I really should clean this room up. I’ve never been the one to be organized, and it shows with the room looking like a bomb went off. The hotel room at The Holiday Inn is smaller than I would’ve liked to be in for so long, but it has a nice TV and the shower is to die for. While the wallpaper looks outdated and the sheets on the bed are kind of itchy, the room serves its purpose. It’s a means to an end, one that I’m hoping actually ends soon. Plus it’s convenient my place of work is right next door. Feeling as though I’m wasting my time here, I grab the cleanest looking pair of pants and stop when my stash of weed falls to the ground. Thinking about it only for a few seconds, I pick it up and tell myself one joint before work won’t hurt. Another perk of the room I’m in, is that it has a balcony that overlooks the back of the hotel. It’s probably not smart to be smoking an illegal drug so openly, but I really don’t care. It calms me and lets my mind stop wondering about shit that I can’t control.
Opening the sliding door, I step outside and suck in a breath as the humidity hits me. It’s almost suffocating, and I’m not sure how the people here can live in this. Florida is humid, but it’s different here. Pushing all thoughts of home out of my mind, I pull out a lighter and light the small joint. Taking a deep drag, I let the smoke fill my lungs and slowly let it out instantly feeling the calmness wash through me. Leaning against the brick wall, I tell myself I need this. I need an escape, even if it’s only for a small window of time. I’m so sick of worrying about finding a woman that probably never wanted me. I’m sick and tired of looking for her. But as I take another drag, I know I’ll never stop looking. I have to know why she gave me away. I need to know if it’s because she just didn’t want me, or if it’s because I can’t be loved. A part of me hopes it’s because she just wanted a better life for me, but just like all the other times as soon as that thought crosses my mind, my stomach dips and I have a feeling that’s not the case at all.
I fucked up.
Oh God, I fucked up big time.
Why did I think it was a good idea to smoke weed before work? Why oh why did I do it? Swallowing hard, my eyes search for a way out. The cops are all over the place, and paranoia is setting in hard. Everything was going just fine at Tampico Bay until two drunk college students started fighting. They were all but tearing the place down before my boss, Paul, had to call the cops. Now I’m hiding in a fucking corner behind the bar freaking the hell out because cops … are … everywhere. One look at me and they’ll know I’m high as a fucking kite. An hour into my shift and shit hits the fan.
Unbelievable.
Searching again for a way out, I slowly move out of my hiding spot. If I can just get past the two cops talking to Paul, I can make a break for the back door. Deciding to take a chance, I quickly walk past them hoping and praying no one sees me. I’ve spent time in a jail cell many times, and I do not wish to do it again. Yes, I made a lot of stupid mistakes in my younger days, okay not that long ago, but I really would rather not risk it again. Making my way around the bar, I look back at the front door then to the two cops seeing they’re still talking to Paul. Holding my breath, I sneak past them, and my heart begins to pound as I make my way through the crowd in the small establishment. Normally this wouldn’t bother me, but it seems the fight has caused everyone to be on high alert. There are three rooms sectioned off from the front bar, and I have to push my way through the crowd to get to the back door. Thankfully no one pays me any mind as I get closer to the door, but I’m still holding my breath. All it’ll take is for one of these drunk fools to ask me what I’m doing, and it’ll cause unwanted attention.
I can hear the pounding of my heart in my ears, but freedom is only inches away. Finally reaching the door, I don’t think about Paul looking for me once things calm down. I frankly don’t care about anything but getting away from the fucking cops. Without a second glance behind me, I jerk open the door and quickly shut it behind me with both hands. My shoulders sag in relief as I feel the night air hitting me, and I close my eyes as I finally let out a deep breath. “Sneakin’ out for a break huh?”
My eyes snap open as I hear the deep manly voice with a thick southern accent behind me, and I quickly turn around. “You have got to be shitting me.”
His head tilts as a huge grin forms on his face, and dare I say, there’s a hint of glee in his bright blue eyes. He walks closer to me, and I lean against the wall for support. This can’t be happening. Not while I’m still higher than the freaking clouds. “I never thought I would see you again, Sassy Savannah Owens.”
“Fate must really love me tonight,” I huff out.
He chuckles, and I find I like the sound way more than I should. “Why do I get the feelin’ you really don’t mean that?”
“Because,” I drawl out. “It’s the truth.”
“Is that why you looked as if you were runnin’ away from somethin’ chasin’ you with a hacksaw?”
“What?” Turning around, I actually check to make sure no one is coming after me.
Mysterious first name laughs once more, before adding, “Or maybe you’re tryin’ to rob the joint, and I caught you red handed.”
Okay, I’m really starting to freak out. In the back of my mind, I know he’s joking, but I’m having a bad effect from the weed. In other words, I’m wigging out man. “Oh, please! Don’t take me to jail!” Seeing the confusion on his face, I plead some more. “I swear I’ll do anything.” Unable to stop myself, I grab onto this arms and shake them. “Just don’t take me to jail.”
His eyebrows furrow as he really looks at me for a moment. I blink away the tears starting to pool in my eyes because I just know he’s going to arrest me. But instead of putting me in cuffs, he smiles at me again before asking, “Are you high?”
“Uh … maybe?” I whisper.
“You’re so fucked up.”
Rolling my eyes, I drop his arms as I confess, “Okay, fine. I’m high as fuck. I did something stupid, and now I’m freaking out. There are cops all over the place, and now I run into you, and you’re just you, and I don’t want to go to jail.” Sucking in a breath, I can’t believe I just blurted that out.
“That was quite a mouth full.”
Covering my hand over my mouth, I try to hold in a laugh. I end up snorting and the sound alone is so embarrassing, but then again it feels good to laugh. “That’s what she said.”
We both laugh loudly before his eyes turn serious. At least, I think that look means he’s serious. “I won’t arrest you,” he starts, and I hold in a breath. “On one condition.” He adds, and my stomach sinks.
“I don’t have to suck your dick do I? Because I know I said I’d do anything, but I don’t know. That seems like a bit much.”
His eyes widen for a good ten seconds before he smiles again while shaking his head. “I at least would like for you to buy me dinner first. Then maybe have a first kiss before we move onto other parts of my body then to yours.” I’m speechless as I listen to him. It’s as if he already knows how things are going to go between us. It’s the strangest conversation I’ve ever had before. But the more he talks, the more my eyes begin to wander down his face and chest. Then to his bulky arms and manly hands. My eyes get to his crotch, and I imagine what his cock would look like. “My condition,” he says loudly, and I meet his eyes again. My face flames with embarrassment knowing he caught me checking him out. God please let this night end already. “One date and I won’t arrest you.”
“You’re serious?” This doesn’t seem real. Why would he let me off this easy? But I know he’s dead serious about taking me out on a date when he wiggles his eyebrows.
I start to answer him, but a loud banging noise cuts me off. Mystery first name guy turns around, and that’s when I notice a man in the back of the cop car. I’m assuming the car belongs to C. Harlow. He signals me to follow him and for a moment I panic. What if all this was just a ruse to get me in his car so he can throw me in jail? Against my better judgment, I follow him anyway, but keep a fair distance in case he tries anything funny. As we get closer to the police cruiser, the guy in the back begins to curse very loudly and bangs his head against the window. “Hey man. Simmer down back there,” he yells. The man in the back seat however, either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. “Don’t make me pepper spray you.” C. Harlow pulls a small can of pepper spray out of his pocket and holds it up. “I will spray you in the eyes. It will hurt like a motherfucker.” The man in the back seat instantly calms down, and I snicker. Hearing his southern accent come out so thick is something I’m finding I want to hear more of. “Have you ever been peppered sprayed before?” he asks catching my attention.
“I can’t say that I have.”
He quickly puts his can of pepper spray away before saying, “I have. Sprayed myself in the face once.” His head snaps up to me then he adds, “By accident.” He chuckles as I smile and shake my head. “Why would I spray myself in the face with that shit?” Something tells me he might have just been curious, and he did spray himself. There’s something in the tone of his voice like he’s trying to convince me it was an accident. And the fact he won’t look me in the eyes. “Anyway did you ever hear the story about the guy dyin’ from shovin’ a pepper spray can up his ass?”
Shockingly I know exactly what he’s talking about. “You mean the episode on A 1,000 Ways to Die, and the guy is an ex-convict?”
“And he shoves a can of pepper spray up his b-hole when he gets pulled over so he won’t be violatin’ his parole?”
Smiling while nodding my head, I add, “But the guy didn’t realize in doing so, when the cop pushed him against his car, the can went off inside him.”
“I’m sure he had regrets from that,” he says while chuckling.
“Well I’m not so sure if he regretted it since he died and all.” I deadpan, and when he laughs again, my stomach starts fluttering like crazy. I blame the drugs for the sudden sensation, but I can’t help but join him as he continues to laugh.
His laugh slowly dies as he says, “That was my favorite episode.”
“No shit. It’s mine too.”
“Looks like we’re made for each other.”
Rolling my eyes, I still can’t stop a smile from forming. Even if he’s full of shit. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I said one date, and that’s only because you promised not to arrest me.”
My entire body tenses as he steps closer to me. He’s so close I can smell him, and my mouth begins to dry up. I’m not sure if he’s wearing cologne or not, but he smells divine. It has to be cologne because no man has ever smelled so good around me before. “I know a good thing when I see it,” he says huskily and brushes a strand of hair out of my face. It’s such a sweet and innocent moment, but tell my heart that. I have to open my mouth to take in more air, and it’s as if my mind is trying to play catch up. It’s just the after effects of the joint I smoked. “Let me see your phone.”
“Umm, what now?”
“Phone? Don’t you have a phone like every ten-year-old?”
“Okay, Mr. Smart Ass. There’s no need to get grumpy on me,” I playfully scold. Reaching around to my back pocket, I unlock the phone then hand it to him. Our fingers brush ever so slightly, and I swear I’ll never smoke weed again. His touch, no matter how light or innocent it may seem, makes my body react in a way that I’ve never known before. It’s sort of freaking me out.
His bright blue eyes hold mine for a moment more before he starts typing something on my phone. Curiosity nags at me, but I don’t have to wait long. “Here,” he says as he hands my phone back. “Don’t forget about me, Sassy Savannah.”
I don’t get the chance to respond. He quickly turns around and gets into his police car. Standing in the middle of the back parking lot, I probably seem like an idiot as I watch him leave. Shaking myself out of my daze, I glance down at my phone to see what he added. Grinning widely, I read out loud what he put in my contacts. “Caden. The man of your dreams.” Well at least I know what his name is now.