I drifted. Loud, angry voices shouted back and forth. A faint whiff of burning tires wafted through the air. A radio crackled close by, bursts of static broken up by disjointed messages delivered by monotone speakers. Doors slammed, and the obnoxious blast of a siren dominated the scene. It was sensory overload.

But I was safe in a warm cocoon. Strong arms cradled me against a hard body. I smelled fabric softener, spicy aftershave, and a subtle hint of soap. I sighed and snuggled closer.

"Lucy? Lucy, open your eyes." A deep, masculine voice caused the chest under my cheek to rumble as he spoke.

I ignored him. I liked my cocoon. I could stay in his arms all night.

Somebody yelled in the distance, "Cut off that siren!"

"Ma'am?" The rumbly voice was patient and kind. And sexy. Wait, what?

I opened my eyes.

Warm gray eyes looked down at me with concern. "Lucy Bennett?"

"Yes?" My voice was raspy, and I cleared my throat.

Those eyes.

"Lucy, I'm going to help you sit up now, okay?" So patient, so caring. So hot.

I grumbled a protest, but sat up, anyway. I took a good look at the speaker. His looks matched that sex-and-chocolate voice.

Dark, close-cropped hair, with stubble dusting his jaw, the police officer would not have been out of place on a hot cop calendar. He gently lifted me to my feet and helped steady me until he saw I was ready to stand on my own.

I remembered him telling me to put my hands behind my back, but I wasn’t cuffed.

"Ms. Bennett, are you okay? Are you injured in any way? Do you need to see a paramedic?" He led me a few steps away to an unmarked police car. The one that had been pursuing us, I guess.

"I'm okay, really. It was my first time to be in a high-speed police chase. That's all." I leaned against the bumper of his car.

His lips twitched. "First time, huh?"

"Yeah, I'm a police chase virgin. Or I was. I guess you popped my police chase cherry." I closed my eyes for a moment when I realized what I had just said.

Shut up, Lucy. Stop talking. Now.

"Do you have any identification on you, Ms. Bennett?" The hot cop put his hands on his hips.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colton being lifted off the ground by two police officers. He was covered in grass stains and dirt, and his hands were handcuffed behind his back. I saw the wires of a Taser hanging from his body. It was a shame that I missed the actual Tasering.

I would have loved to see that.

I pulled my driver's license out of the leather case that held my ID and my phone and handed it over to the police officer with shaking hands.

He studied it with care in the glare of the headlights.

"Um, that's not a great picture, Officer. Sorry. I looked up tips online about how to take a good picture at the DMV, but the clerk took my picture when I was asking about the lighting. So that’s why my mouth is hanging open." I leaned back against the car, trying to get ahold of myself. I just couldn’t seem to shut up.

His lips twitched again. "You looked up tips online for taking a good driver's license picture?" He looked at me with those incredible gray eyes.

"Well, yeah. I didn't want to have a terrible picture on my ID. You use your ID all the time, and who wants to be stuck with a bad picture? You can't retake it for like four or five years, and I wanted a good, solid picture. I mean, doesn't everybody? So I Googled it, and there are things you can do to increase your chances of having a good photo. I made a list of tips I could use. But that lady at the DMV, was like, stop talking and look at the camera. So I looked at the camera, but I guess I was still talking because when I got my picture back my mouth was open." I paused for a much-needed breath.

I tended to ramble when I was nervous.

Hot Cop stared at me for a long moment. He shook his head.

"Ms. Bennett, have you ever been arrested?" His tone was so firm and authoritative that I felt a tingle. You know, down below.

I wonder if he patted me down while I was unconscious. That would suck. I would for sure want to be awake for that procedure.

Then I realized what he had said.

"Arrested? Of course not! No, I've never been arrested." I waved my hand around in the air as I spoke.

He pushed a button on his shoulder and tilted his head to speak into his radio. I caught something about my name, and then some random numbers. Cop code, I guess.

"I'm not getting arrested, am I? I can't get arrested. I didn't actually do anything. I mean, Colton was the one driving like he had just robbed a bank. I was the innocent passenger. I was just the idiot who agreed to go on a date with him. And it was a good date until we left the restaurant. I kept telling him to pull over, but he like, ignored me every time I said it." My face flushed, and I felt the stirrings of panic.

What would an arrest do to my long-term plan? It couldn’t be good. And what would my grandmother say when I called her for bail money? I would get bail, right?

Deep breaths, Lucy.

"You said he was driving like he had just robbed a bank? What do you know about that, ma'am?" His face was granite, and his eyes were laser sharp.

"What do I know about what? All I know is he wouldn't stop when you turned on your lights and sirens. He kept speeding up and ignoring me." Tears came to my eyes. "And now you are grilling me, and you look like you want to pull out your handcuffs and use them on me. I mean, it's not like I have something against being cuffed. Not that I've ever been cuffed. Not by a cop, and not in bed. Not that I've had a lot of sex. Two times, actually. That's it."

His lips moved into a full-blown smirk.

"You think that's funny, that I've only had sex two times? It's not funny, it's sad. And it was terrible both times. I researched it ahead of time, you know? I wanted to have a great first sexual experience. But it was kind of painful, and it was very quick. No sizzle, no spark. Just bam. Done. And no handcuffs were involved. I guess I said that already." My eyes drifted down to his chest. Jackson was spelled out in white letters over his shirt pocket.

Why couldn't I shut up?

"You researched having sex?" He chuckled, and then he laughed aloud.

"Officer Jackson, why are you smirking at me? Are you going to arrest me?" The tears spilled over this time. Impatient, I wiped them away with one hand.

His eyes twinkled at me, and he opened his mouth to speak. Another officer came over and interrupted. He pulled Officer Hotness aside, but I could hear part of their conversation.

"Jackson, the suspect says he was on a blind date. He says she doesn't know anything about the robbery, and dispatch reports that she called 911 during the pursuit."

There were some mumbles I didn't quite catch, and then Officer Hotness returned.

"Okay, Ms. Bennett. I'm going to ask you to come to the police station on Monday, so I can fill out a report. Right now, I will find someone to give you a ride home." His stern, cop face was back.

"Monday? Does that mean I'm not under arrest? Not that there is a reason for you to arrest me. I didn't do anything except date that idiot. No reason for you to pull out your cuffs or anything at all." Why was I still talking?

Officer Hotness laughed. "You do have a fascination with handcuffs, don't you?"

I blushed.

I sat down in the patrol car to wait for someone to give me a ride home. Was I even in the right car?

He leaned inside the vehicle, one hand resting on top of the car. "On second thought, I'll drive you home. Buckle up." He backed away, rubbing the scruff on his jaw as he talked to the other police officer again out of my earshot.

I watched Colton get put in the back of a police cruiser parked right next to me. I know he saw me, but he avoided eye contact. Figures.

The car rocked as Officer Hotness climbed into the driver's seat. He glanced at me over his shoulder. "You don't have to ride in the back, you know. Why don't you come up here and sit next to me?"

That tingle again.

I unbuckled and maneuvered my way to the front seat. As I was buckling up again, I reminded myself to show my manners. After all, nearly being arrested was no reason to be rude.

"Thanks, Officer Hotness, for giving me a ride home." I smiled and adjusted the strap. There. Very police and in control.

"Officer Hotness?" He laughed aloud as he cranked the engine.

Mortified, I realized what I had said, and waves of heat traversed my body.

"You can call me Officer Hotness if you want, but most people just call me Grayson. I'm Grayson Jackson." He was still grinning as he watched me try to recover.

He held his hand out for me to shake. I offered him mine, and he grasped my hand in his big, warm grip. I was reluctant to let go. His hand felt good on mine.

"Thanks, Officer Jackson, for giving me a ride." I blushed again as I realized that didn't sound much better.

He laughed even more and put the car in drive. "Grayson. Just call me Grayson."

I didn't want to call him anything. My blushes were starting to actually hurt. I wanted to fan my hot cheeks, but I couldn’t give Officer Hotness the satisfaction.

"Thank you, Grayson." Please just take me home in silence. I need this night to be over already.

"So, Lucy. Can I call you Lucy?" He cut his stunning eyes my direction.

"Sure. Lucy is okay." I tried to focus on looking out the windshield, and not at him. I could think more clearly when I wasn't looking directly at him.

"So, Lucy, tell me about your date with Colton Wortham." His tone was firm but nonjudgmental.

"Well, he was a fix-up by a mutual friend of ours. Karen said he was successful with a steady job, and a dependable guy. So I thought, why not?" I watched the chaotic crime scene as we pulled away, still determined not to look at Officer Hotness. Er, Grayson.

"He's a dependable scumbag, is what he is. I've arrested him twice for minor drug possession. Always suspected him of dealing, but never could catch him. And yesterday a bank was robbed over in Tutwiler. Guess whose car was caught on camera leaving the scene?" He raised his eyebrows at me, waiting for my answer.

"No! He robbed a bank?" A series of flashbacks assailed me. Colton, saying he didn't do drugs. Colton, talking about paying off his home early. Me, saying Colton was driving like he had robbed a bank.

"That's crazy! But he did so well on the Manlist. What a disappointment." I sighed and shifted in my seat, aware of a sudden exhaustion. I pressed my palms to my forehead, trying to process what he had told me.

"Manlist?" Grayson drove with care and precision. I couldn't help but contrast his skillful driving with the wild ride I had been on with Colton earlier.

I blushed once more when I realized I had spoken aloud again. What was wrong with me? It must be the shock.

"Um, yeah. My Manlist. It's kind of a thing." I mumbled my reply, hoping he would let it go.

Of course, he didn't. Nothing was going my way this evening.

"What kind of a thing?" His lips were doing that twitching thing again. His soft, kissable lips.

Focus, Lucy.

"It's just this list of qualities I look for in a man. My idea is if a man scores well on my Manlist, he's good marriage material." I was so uncomfortable talking about this with Grayson.

He laughed. "So you are looking for someone to marry? And these dates are what, interviews?" He laughed yet again.

"Yes, I'm looking for marriage. Why else would I waste my time on a Saturday night wearing uncomfortable shoes?" I waved a hand at my too-tall heels. "And yes, you can call it an interview if you want. I need data before I can continue dating a guy. It's smart. It's scientific."

"Why marriage? Why not just have a good time, have some satisfying sex, and move on?" That irritating smirk. I wanted to kiss it off his face. Slap it off his face. That's what I meant.

I didn't answer.

"Oh, that's right. You've only had sex twice. And it wasn't good either time, despite your extensive research." He chuckled. "There were no handcuffs involved."

I covered my hot face with both hands. "Life isn't all about sex. It's about forming a partnership with someone you care about and are compatible with, to build a family."

"No, sweetness. Life is about forming a partnership with someone for one night to have some satisfying sex. And I wrap it up to prevent any lasting consequences." He winked at me.

I crossed and uncrossed my legs. "Some people want more than one night. That's all."

"So you want kids? Already?" He shook his head at me, frowning.

"No, not right now. But at some point. And I need to know that the man I marry is good father material." Frustrated, I leaned away from him.

"How did Colton score on this Manlist of yours?" Grayson was still amused.

I crossed my arms and stared out the window.

He didn't let it go. "Let me guess. He scored well on your little interview. Am I right?" Grayson clicked on the turn signal.

"Yes. Okay? He scored well. Are you happy?" I massaged my temples.

"Doesn't that tell you something? That he scored well but then got arrested a few minutes later for robbing a bank?" Grayson laughed again.

I stayed mute. I was not buying into this discussion, and I wished he would stop laughing at everything I said.

"It means your approach isn't scientific at all." He smiled in my direction.

I could see his smug grin from the corner of my eye.

I turned and narrowed my eyes at him. "It is scientific. Colton is an extreme example of a bad date, that's all." I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed. The movement caused his eyes to drop to my boobs. "And keep your eyes on the road!"

That earned me another laugh. "Sweetness, mutual attraction or partnership or whatever you want to call it isn't determined by a list of interview questions." He made another smooth turn, getting closer to campus.

Did I give him my address, or did he remember where I lived from his one glance at my driver's license?

"There are things I need to evaluate in a man I'm dating." Why wouldn’t he drop this conversation? My dating life couldn’t be that interesting.

"You sound like a prim, old schoolmarm. Why not just let things evolve naturally?" He pulled to a stop at a red light and turned my direction. Tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, he waited for my answer.

‘It's easier to ask a few questions on the front end." My cold tone did not invite more questions.

I wasn't giving my Manlist up because of one bad date.

"What kind of questions are you asking?" He was undeterred by my growing hostility. "Let me guess. You asked Colton if he did drugs."

My silence was his answer.

More laughter. The light changed, and Grayson pulled up in front of my dorm. I grabbed the door handle. In a flash, Grayson was out of his seatbelt, and he lunged across the seat, his hand covering mine.

Grayson's body pressed against me as he kept me from opening the door. His lips were inches from my lips. The warmth of his body washed over mine, and I stopped breathing.

His eyes dropped to my lips, and they darkened. Just when I thought he was going to kiss me, he opened my car door.

"Don't forget to come into the police station on Monday, sweetness. I have an interview of my own to conduct." His voice was low and husky.

Right before I could slam the door and make my escape, he whispered, "If you're lucky, I'll break out my cuffs." He laughed again and leaned back.

Damn him.