After hitting Main Street, I slowed to a walk. My lungs screamed at me as I sucked in desperate breaths and tried to get my heart rate back to normal. Monroe was just waking up to start a new day, while my night was only just ending. As usual, I ended the night shift the same way: with a grueling run to try to clear my head and gain some peace.

This morning I pushed myself harder than usual. The night had been fucked. Simple as that. The case I’d been working on was getting hot, and now we were dealing with an unidentified body that turned up two days ago. Somehow, I knew it was all related.

My job was to work out how.

Since I was ten, I’d wanted to be a cop. I worked my ass off, and sacrificed a shitload to become Detective, and I spent my career working locally and in undercover jobs around the country. It suited me perfectly. Living on the road, not putting down roots, no commitments, and no distractions. I could fuck when I wanted, disappear when needed, and swing by Monroe when my mother decided I’d been away for too long. But being a cop meant I got a firsthand look at the worst of the world. I’d been around sick motherfuckers too many times, and I’d seen things that burned memories so far into my brain that I saw them when I closed my eyes. Death was something I faced more times than I wished to. I’d watched my colleagues go down, and I’d held people in my arms as they took their last breaths. Telling families that their loved ones weren’t coming home was like plunging a blade into my heart and twisting it to add a bit more pain. That was the cruelest part of the job, and it stays with you forever. But then there were the moments of gratification that made everything worth it. It was the feeling of complete peace when I put my head on my pillow at night after finding a missing child. It was when my nephew looked at me like I was a celebrity when my name hit the paper. It was the feeling of relief when I got the woman who spent years getting beaten by an asshole who didn’t understand the beauty of having a woman into a safer environment.

That’s why I did my job.

That’s why I put up with the bullshit I saw.

That’s why I’d continue to search for my own brand of peace.

Daily, I battled to make sure the good memories outweighed the bad.

For some people, people I loved and respected, that battle never ended well.

“Hunt.”

I stopped outside the bank and became alert at the sound of my name. There was no mistaking who owned that voice. It was the same voice that had been replaying in my head for the past three days.

Sasha Hamilton.

She was the kind of woman you wanted to get your hands on, and your dick in, and she was completely unexpected. Every single man that lived in Monroe was in danger, because the power in those green eyes could make you do just about anything.

But she was off-limits.

“Fuck me,” I muttered after turning around and watching her in all of her tight-skirt and fuck-me-heels glory strut toward me with hips swaying, blond hair flying behind her, and a look of thunder spreading over her face. Her mask dropped slightly as she got closer, but she quickly pulled it back in place. When she came to a standstill in front of me, I remained silent, my arms crossed over my chest, as her eyes roamed over my face before dropping to my body and focusing on the t-shirt clinging to my chest. I ran my hand through my hair and smirked.

“Mornin’,” I murmured, breaking the silence and taking a step into her space.

Her eyes immediately lifted and met mine.

“Gotta say, I’m enjoying these run ins we’re having.”

Her brow rose and she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. I waited.

“I’d like to pay you back for lunch,” she said sharply, before opening her purse and pulling out some notes. She held out a fifty. “Will this cover it?”

Christ. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m also not arguing about this on Main Street. The whole fucking town will hear about this conversation within seconds.”

Her eyes darted quickly up and down the street, and she quickly dropped her hand. For a sleepy mountain town, Monroe was starting to wake up. Having run this same route countless time, I knew that I only had an hour of peace before Main Street was taken over by early risers going to Missy’s for their before work coffee fix, business owners setting up for a new day, and the local walking group that included all of the biggest gossips in town getting in their miles. And it was that walking group heading toward us who was watching us with invested interest.

She lowered her voice, after giving a friendly, low wave to the group as they passed us. “I’ve got to pay you back.”

She was really going to push this. There was absolutely no fucking way she’d be paying me back. “What I said sticks. You go to lunch with a man, he pays. Your lunch date fucked up, so I paid. It’s done. I’m not taking your money.”

Popping out her hip, she folded her arms over her chest and stared at me. She was fiery and stubborn as fuck. It made my cock twitch just thinking of going head to head with her. If this is what she was like in public, I could only imagine what she’d be like behind closed doors.

“You must be broke,” she hissed, rolling her eyes at me for added insult, but all it did was motivate me more to dig deep.

I smirked. Fuck, this was going to be good. “Care to explain?”

“If you go around paying for random women’s lunches, you’ve got to be broke. There are a lot of us who get left with the bill, so you must either have a shitload of money, or you’re broke.”

I took a step toward her, breaking the distance, and suddenly Main Street and the gossip hungry residents of Monroe didn’t exist. Nothing existed but Sasha and her glossy red lips she was now gnawing on. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one I’ve done it for. So no, I’m not broke.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Her face softened, and her voice dropped. Her mask slipping slightly, and this time she wasn’t quick to pull it back into place. “Why me?”

“What makes sense is that you got my attention the second I saw you. Not going to lie to you, sweetheart. You are really hard to fucking miss. Clocked you as soon as I walked into Missy’s, so I watched. And you know I watched you. If I see you with an unpaid bill and looking like the weight of the world was sitting on your shoulders, I’d do it again,” I informed her, my voice low and deep. I gave her a stern look that I hoped like hell made her know that I was not fucking around. The sharp intake of air she took and the way her eyes glittered as they locked with mine told me it was sinking in. “I don’t want your money, but if you are determined to pay me back, you can give me another dose of your sassy mouth next time you see me.”

“Has anyone told you that you are incredibly stubborn?” she scoffed as she put her money back in her purse and jammed it back under her arm. She returned her scowl to me. Fuck she was cute.

“Yeah, been told a few times.”

“Well, it’s clear that you and your alphaness won’t take my money, so all I can say is thank you. I haven’t had a random man buy my lunch before, so I’ll be sure to remember it.”

“You do that, sweetheart.”

“I’m going to find a way to pay you back.”

I smirked as numerous ways of her paying me back flashed through my head. I’d known her a long time; however, she’d only just met me. You didn’t live in Monroe and not know the Hamilton’s. The good, the bad, and the ugly. But there was nothing ugly about Sasha Hamilton. She was fucking phenomenal to look at. Loads of blonde hair that fell down to the middle of her back and begged to be wrapped around my fist, a tight body that had curves in all the right places, perfect lips that deserved to be feasted on, and eyes that had the potential to make the strongest men fall to their knees and beg for her mercy. Her expression and the pink tint crawling up her neck told me she’d clued in on what I was thinking, and how I imagined her paying me back. She was failing miserably at trying to hide the smile that was begging to cross her pretty little mouth.

Stealing her eyes from me, she gave her head a little shake and then looked across the street to where her store was located. Sass. Even the name of her store suited her perfectly. I wasn’t a fan of home decor and had no desire to be, so it was a store I had never visited. But every time I’d drive or walk past, it was full of customers, and I knew a lot of people who were fans. My mother and sister bought the shit I needed for my house, because I wasn’t the kind of man to decorate. Though I did put my foot down when they started talking about fluffy cushions and Egyptian bath towels. I did not want or need that shit in my house.

Whatever was ticking over in her head caused her to start biting her bottom lip again, and one of her hands moved back to her hip when she turned her attention back to me.

“Do you like candles?”

What. The. Fuck.

“Can’t say I really think about candles, so I neither like nor dislike them.”

Her eyes shot wide, and she took a step toward me. “Even men like you should have a candle collection.”

“Men like me?”

She moved her hand in a circular motion in front of me and her eyes followed her hand. ‘Yes, men like you.”

Her eyes came back to mine and nervousness flashed within them. The shit happening at work had long been forgotten. Any tiredness I’d earlier felt disappeared the moment she said my name, and now I was wide awake, but Sasha had other ideas.

She gave me nothing more. With a brief shake of her head, she turned around and walked off in the direction she came.

And I watched her every step as she did.

Reality punched me in the gut as I focused on the sway of her hips.

She was going to be a distraction.

The perfect kind of distraction.

Fuck.