A lot of time and effort goes into this town, and it shows. This is what I was missing in Los Angeles. Here in the Cove, the bright, blue sky is unimpeded, unlike the layer of smog so thick it was often impossible to tell where the mountains were in LA. The clean, crisp air combined with the feeling of community makes me feel better and better about my decision with every passing minute. Taking my lunch from the passenger seat, I make my way into the precinct.
The smell of wood cleaner and something citrusy greets me as I walk inside. The front counter has had an upgrade since the last time I was here back during the summer before my senior year of high school, when I got a ticket for speeding. Four miles over the limit, but Chief Perry was a stickler for the rules. When I came in to pay the fine, the counter had been a navy Formica. Now, it’s a tan granite with black veining. The other change that jumps out at me is the entire space is no longer painted crisp, stark white. Everything is a creamy khaki color now, except for the back wall, which is navy blue.
“Are you Ashley?”
Startled, I turn toward the speaker. Holy. Cow. This guy is gorgeous with a capital G. He’s at least six feet tall, so I tilt my head back to get a better look. His brown hair is on the lighter side of the spectrum and it’s styled in a way that says he’s not about products. That’s refreshing on the heels of L.A. men, many of whom spend more time on their appearance than most women. His eyes are a soft brown with a bit of hazel, and his lashes are to die for. It’s not fair. No man should have lashes so perfect.
His jawline is what one would call chiseled, but I’ll just cut to the chase and call it hot. He’s clean shaven, and his lips are stupidly kissable. Looking down at his body, I lick my lips. His arms are big and muscular, and the khaki cargo pants he has on do nothing to hide he’s got drool-worthy thighs. I can think of something else he’s got that has to be drool-worthy. I bet it’s—
Oh. Crap.
Wait a minute.
Khaki pants.
Black shirt.
My eyes dart to the left breast of the black polo shirt. Sure enough, the CCPD logo is on it. And beneath the logo, there’s a word that pulls me up short.
Chief.
Oh wow. Of course the hottest guy I’ve ever seen on the island—or anywhere else, for that matter—just has to be my boss.
I need to stop looking at him like he’s filet mignon and I’m on a no-meat diet.
“Yes, I’m Ashley,” I confirm. I hope my voice doesn’t sound all please kiss me like the heroes in the movies would kind of breathless, but that might be wishful thinking. I definitely don’t sound normal. Anxious to take the attention away from myself, I turn it on him. “You must be Chief Jameson.”
He clears his throat. “Guilty. Call me Tyler, though. I’m not big on formality.”
His voice is as sexy as the rest of him. Husky and rich with that perfect amount of hot on the back end. If male phone sex operators were in high demand, Tyler Jameson could have a whole new career.
Crap. I can’t think about my boss and phone sex—or any kind of sex—at the same time. Time to get it together if I don’t want my first day to be my last.
“Okay…, Tyler.”
Something flashes in his eyes that makes it feel like the air in the room has thickened. We stare at one another in silence for what feels like an inordinately long time. When the sound of the phone ringing cuts through the air, I nearly jump like a frightened cat.
“It’s not quite nine yet, and that isn’t the 911 line, which means it’s not an emergency,” Tyler says calmly. “Let that go to voicemail while I show you around.”
I force myself to focus on work and not how hot his ass looks in cargo pants as he walks me around the precinct. I appreciate that he’s thoughtful enough to start the tour in the kitchen area so I can put my lunch in the fridge. Hadley would’ve ignored my needs and not cared if I wound up with a horrible case of food poisoning from unrefrigerated food so long as I was at my desk the following day. Tyler is already heads and tails above my last boss, and it’s only the first few minutes of day one.
The precinct isn’t huge, so the tour only takes about ten minutes. To the right of the front desk, which is where I’ll be, is a hall that leads to an open space with sixteen large cubicles for the officers. To the left of the cubicles is a conference room, and to the right is Tyler’s office. We head to the lower level, where three holding cells, two desks, and a phone are located.