After class on Monday morning, I headed straight for Dr. Somerville's office. My faculty advisor spent most of his day in this small, cluttered space that always held a faint whiff of cigar smoke, despite the university's strict no smoking policy. I had never caught him smoking, but the smell remained. Every time I came in here, I pictured him after hours, with his feet propped up on his desk, and a cigar in his mouth.

"Lucy. Come on in." Somerville closed a manila folder he had been studying and took off his reading glasses. "Have a seat."

I sat down, a little out of breath after my hike across campus, and let my backpack slide to the floor with a solid thump.

"Thanks. I'm guessing you got a chance to look at my thesis proposal?" I pulled a notebook out of my backpack, and uncapped a pen with my mouth, ready to take notes.

"Yes. I thought your proposal looked great. It's definitely detailed and very well thought out." He cleared his throat and smiled at me. "I think you have a great plan and have every chance of being successful."

Despite his glowing words of praise, something else seemed to be on his mind. "But?" I raised my eyebrows at him. We knew each other well enough after four years of undergraduate work, and now a year of graduate school, that I trusted he would be straight with me.

"An opportunity has come our way, and when I saw it, I immediately thought of you." He clapped his hands together one time for emphasis and then reached for a single sheet of paper sitting off to the side.

"What kind of opportunity?" Wrinkling my forehead, I surveyed him with my head tilted, pen still clutched in my hand. I had worked hard on my thesis proposal, and I had the impression he was about to make some significant changes to it.

I wasn’t cool with that.

"The Peacock Police Department contacted me last week. They sent a representative to an FBI seminar about public relations and law enforcement. Apparently, they picked up some good ideas for improving community relations, and they wanted my help with one idea in particular." He paused to slip his reading glasses back on his face, and then glanced over the paper he held. "They want a journalism major to do some ride alongs with their police officers, and film documentary shorts to be featured on the local news."

"Hmm. So like an episode of Cops on television?" I leaned forward, interested despite my exasperation about my thesis proposal.

"Yes. Something like that. Tell the public what it's like to be a police officer, how they help the community, and so on. You aren't obligated to make it a public relations piece, of course. But that's what they are hoping for, some positive press for their department, and I don't think it would be surprising if your finished product cast them in a good light." He took his glasses back off and waited for my reaction.

My mind raced with ideas, seeing the long-term implications of such a project.

"If done right, this could even be picked up by a larger market." I tapped my pen against my notebook.

"Absolutely. And it could be great for the university as well. I could see other journalism students getting an opportunity to do similar projects with the police department in the future, and maybe with other government agencies, too." He handed the sheet of paper to me.

I glanced at it. It was a printed copy of an email from the local police chief to my professor, detailing his request.

"I'm just asking that you think about it, Lucy. I could give this project to a number of different students, but you've earned the right of first refusal. If you like the idea, email me your initial plans, and contact the police chief to get it started." He leaned back in his seat and put his hands behind his head. "If you would rather stick with your existing proposal, well, I understand that, too. You've already put a lot of work into that plan, and it’s a good one. Take a day or two, and then let me know."

"Okay. Thanks for thinking of me when this idea came your way, Professor." I smiled at him. I had already determined I would be crazy not to jump on his offer.

He stood up, signaling that our appointment was over. I stood with him and gathered my things.

It was time to create another kickass plan.

***

I SPENT THE NEXT COUPLE of hours working on a rough plan for the law enforcement ride alongs, and then I headed for the Peacock Police headquarters. I needed to meet with Officer Hotness about Colton, and I figured I would try to get on the police chief's calendar while I was there.

Strolling in the front door, I was greeted by a reception desk manned by a harried-looking officer. There was a line of people waiting to speak to the officer sitting at the desk, so I took my place in line. I occupied myself by looking around the room while I waited my turn.

It was a large room filled with several desks. The walls were lined with small cubicles holding additional workspaces. One whole wall was glass, and professional lettering identified the area behind the glass as belonging to 911 services. I remembered making my frantic call Saturday night, and I wondered if one of the headset-wearing operators I was looking at now answered my call.

"Lucy Bennett." A deep voice called my name.

Surprised, I jerked my head in the direction of the voice and saw Officer Hotness striding my way. He was even more attractive in the light of day, filling out his uniform to perfection. He had been in casual clothes on Saturday night.

He smiled at me, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Officer Jackson. It's good to see you." I focused on keeping my tone calm and even. I didn't want to sound like a fan girl at her first boy band concert, but that's how I felt.

Like I wanted to start screaming his name, and maybe flash my boobs at him.

"I'm glad you came in. Follow me, and we will get started." He led the way to a cubicle in the back, and I tried not to stare at his sculpted ass as I trailed after him. He indicated I should have a seat across from his desk, and I sank into an uncomfortable wooden chair. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thanks. I really would like to get this over with, and get out of here as fast as possible." I smiled to soften my words.

"You that adverse to spending time with me?" That damn smirk was back in full force. When he smirked, he got the cutest little dimple.

"No, of course not. It's just I would really like to forget Colton and all that happened Saturday night." I leaned back and focused on appearing at ease.

I wasn't at ease at all. I had hoped that my attraction to Grayson Saturday night had been a result of my adrenaline rush from the Colton fiasco. But sitting here, in the light of day, he was looking sexier than ever. I wasn't accustomed to such strong feelings of desire, especially to someone I barely knew.

"Okay, Lucy. First, I need your driver's license so I can get your basic identifying information for my report." Grayson’s authoritative tone was back in full force.

I pulled out my ID and handed it over to him. He examined it for a moment and then started laughing.

I looked away. I knew what he was about to say.

"So tell me again about your tips for the perfect driver's license photo? Because this picture is awful." He rested both elbows on his desk and examined my picture in detail.

I rolled my eyes and stayed mute, but Grayson refused to let me get away with that.

"Did you really Google tips for getting a good driver's license picture?" His chair squeaked as he shifted position.

"Of course. And I never said you would get a perfect photo. But there are some good ideas out there for improving the quality of your photo." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Like?" Grayson was incredulous.

"I made a list of the suggestions, actually." I got out my phone and pulled up the notes section to find my list.

"Of course you did." His kept his face deadpan, but there was a definite twinkle in those gorgeous eyes of his.

I read the list straight from my phone, running my words together in my irritation. "1. Have a positive attitude. 2. Elongate your neck. 3. Be friendly to the photographer. 4. Find your best angle. 5. Keep hair and makeup simple. 6. Find the light. 7. Smile." I put my phone down on my lap and tried to stare him down.

He cracked up. "So what went wrong again? Because this picture doesn't reflect any of those suggestions."

"I told you. The lady taking the picture snapped my photo with no warning. I was talking, so that's why my mouth is hanging open." My voice betrayed my irritation.

Relax, Lucy.

"What exactly were you saying to her?" He leaned toward me, narrowing his eyes in interest.

Why was this topic so fascinating to him?

"I don't remember. I was following tip three. ‘Be friendly to the photographer.'" I couldn't keep eye contact with him. "I don't see what the big deal is, Officer Jackson."

His smile softened. "Grayson. Just call me Grayson."

Despite myself, I smiled back.

"Well, give me a second to type in some basic details." He opened a laptop and started typing, mumbling a little under his breath.

"Name. Lucy Abagail Bennett." He typed for a moment.  "That's a pretty name."

"Thanks. I'm not the reigning Lucy yet, but I will be one day." I crossed my legs, trying to get comfortable.

That stopped him. "The reigning Lucy? What does that mean?"

"Every generation in my family on my dad's side has a Lucy. My grandmother's name is Lucy, too. She's the oldest Lucy, so we call her the reigning Lucy. She didn't have any daughters, so when I was born, my dad named me Lucy. One day, I will be the oldest living Lucy, and at that time I will be the reigning Lucy." I shifted in my seat, uneasy at the thought of not having my grandmother. "I'm not in any hurry to be the reigning Lucy. My grandmother raised me, so she's very important to me."

His gray eyes shone with something I didn't recognize, and then he turned back to his laptop.

"Case number...date and time...badge number..." He looked up at me. "Sorry, there are a lot of details I have to enter here."

"No problem." There wasn't a problem. While he was busy typing and not focused on me, I was free to stare at him without worrying about him catching me looking.

God, he was so sexy. His rugged good looks did something for me. A lot of men these days were pretty. They waxed and plucked and used copious amount of hair product. Metrosexual, I think they called it. Not Grayson. Not that he looked like a wilderness man or anything. But he had that scruff again today that made me wonder if he always had a little shadow on his jaw. His muscles were well-defined, but he didn't look like a gym rat. He just looked masculine and strong. Entirely in control of any situation he might face.

"Lucy?" Grayson’s voice interrupted my musings.

I jumped. Damn it. He had caught me staring after all. I had zoned out and didn't even realize he had been speaking to me. "Yes?"

I flushed.

That smirk again. "I've entered all the little details. Now I just need your witness statement."

I cleared my throat. "I told you. It was a blind date. A fix-up. We met at Lombardi's in town and had dinner and conversation. Everything..."

He cut me off. "You mean you had dinner, and you interviewed him."

"Don't put that in your report! We had dinner and helpful, revealing conversation. Everything was going great. Colton didn't start acting funny until the end of the meal." I thought for a moment. "He acted like he saw somebody or something in the restaurant that made him uncomfortable."

"He did. He saw me. I was in Lombardi's that night, remember? You bumped into me at the door. And I told you I've arrested him before." He raised one eyebrow at me. "I saw the two of you sitting at your cozy little table in the corner." Now it was Grayson's turn to look irritated.

What was that about?

"Why are you scowling at me? I was on a date. We weren't doing anything wrong." I crossed my arms back over my chest. What was it about this man that kept me on the defensive at all times?

"I'm scowling at you because he is a dumbass and a loser. He had no business being out with such a beautiful woman. You said yourself he was passing your interview." He almost growled at me.

I sat back, ramrod straight. "Are you...jealous? That doesn't even make sense. You didn't know me. You still don't know me."

"I'm starting to know you. I want to know more. But I already knew enough that night to know he didn't deserve you." He held my gaze, and I blushed.

I had to look down. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans and tried to sort out his words. Was he telling me he was attracted to me? Had he been attracted to me in the restaurant that night?

"I think your date left the restaurant in a hurry on Saturday because he saw me. I didn't know at that moment that his car had been identified as leaving the scene of the bank robbery. I just figured he was up to no good." He stopped speaking and tapped his fingers on his laptop. "I followed ya'll out of the restaurant, and he blew straight through a stop sign. That gave me an excuse to pull him over."

"But he wouldn't stop." I looked him in the eyes again, remembering that crazy night.

"Right. So I called in his tag and asked for backup. That's when I learned from dispatch that his car had just been identified from the robbery. And the chase was on. Things got more complicated when dispatch told me you were calling 911. I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I was afraid the police would think I was involved somehow, and that I might get body slammed or something." I laughed at the memory. I had been really scared of that happening, among other things.

"I would like to body slam you." He didn't even flinch when he said those shocking words, his voice deepening.

I gasped. I needed to get this conversation back on track. “I even tried throwing his key fob out of the window to stop the car. It didn’t work.”

“I know.” Grayson smiled. “He told us you did that. That wasn’t a bad plan, even if it didn’t work.”

I smiled back, glad the conversation was back on comfortable ground. “I’ll remember that the next time I’m in a car chase.”

Grayson laughed. "When this is report is finished, I would like to take you to lunch." He was smirking again.

So much for comfortable ground.

"Why?" I couldn't help but challenge him. I frowned and tightened my arms across my chest even more.

"Because I like you, and because I want to get to know you better." His eyes were mesmerizing, especially when he twinkled them at me like he was doing now. "What do you say?"

"No. I say no. I don't date cops." My voice was flat. This was a nonnegotiable topic of conversation.

Surprised, he sat back and surveyed me with raised eyebrows. "Why not?"

"I don't know why you are looking so surprised. Do women never tell you no?" Probably not.

"I'm surprised because I know you have to be feeling this spark between us. This is not one-sided." He leaned forward again, his face serious. "I don't ever ask women out on the job. But there is something about you that says I will regret it if I let this chance slip away from me."

"I don't date cops." I frowned. He wasn't going to let it go. He never let things go. "My dad was a cop. He was killed in the line of duty. I don't want to live that life."

He closed his laptop with a firm click and regarded me with a solemn expression for a very long moment. I squirmed. For the first time, he didn't have a witty comeback, but I didn’t think for a minute I had the upper hand with him.

"Now you have to go to lunch with me. I can finish the rest of this report on my own later." He stood up and grabbed his keys.

"Did you not hear what I just said?" I was exasperated. Was he going to ignore me?

"I heard you. And I think this is worth a discussion, don't you? I'm not going to flirt and act casual about something as important as your dad's death. Let's talk like grownups."

"Why does it have to be over a meal?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He looked stumped for a split second, and then my stomach growled. He smiled.

"Okay, okay. We can have lunch." And with that, I followed him out of the police station.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend more time with Grayson Jackson.