Frowning, I look from the nearly full wine cooler in her hand to the horizon, where the sun is not yet beginning to set. “I thought you wanted to watch—”
I stop talking when she gives me the look. The one all women do when they’re silently telling one of their friends to shut their mouth. I never thought I’d see the day when Millie Andover would use said look, much less on me, but that’s absolutely what she’s doing.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, dear. Have a good night, children.”
“Do you want to take your wine coolers back with you?” I call to her retreating back.
“Oh, no, you go ahead and drink them. Chief, try a fuzzy navel cooler,” she calls over her shoulder. “They’re delicious.”
Our yards aren’t huge, so she’s crossed onto her property in less than thirty seconds. Arriving at her rear slider, she steps inside and closes the door after her. Leaving me alone. In my yard. At sundown. With my boss. Who just happens to be the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
CHAPTER SIX
____________________________________
TYLER
I SPENT THE morning looking through the department handbook to see the policy on co-workers dating. At first, I was surprised, because I couldn’t find a policy at all. After a lot of searching and a fuckload of head scratching, a light bulb finally went on over my head. Flipping back to the first page where the title and the date of creation were, I confirmed what I’d already guessed. The handbook was put together in 1979, back when all the cops were male.
The woman who was in charge of the office, Felicity Falls, would’ve already been married and in her thirties at the time. It makes sense that Chief Perry hadn’t even considered setting some parameters. I won’t lie—I’m not unhappy that dating isn’t mentioned even once. Still, I’m well aware that I need to be cautious. I’m not a horny teenager with a crush. I’m the chief of the Charlotte’s Cove Police Department, and I want to keep it that way. I can’t put our work environment in jeopardy purely based on physical attraction. I know I want her, but I can’t go off half-cocked. I need to look deeper. Fuck knows I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. Hell, I’m still learning it.
If I’d known what she looked like going in… well, I’m not sure. Before I met Ashley in person this morning, I only knew the basics from her resume. She’s twenty-five and has an Associate’s Degree in Business Administration from a junior college in Los Angeles. For the last year, she was an administrative assistant to a lifestyle influencer—whatever the hell that is.
I felt I knew all I needed to make the decision to hire her. Plus, Felicity and Millie essentially tag-teamed me about how perfect she was for the job. They were right; she is. It’s funny that neither of them ever saw fit to mention she’s gorgeous, though. And when I say funny, I don’t mean it like ha-ha. I mean it like, I think they purposely neglected to mention it.
Maybe that was smart on their parts. I mean, I hired her sight unseen based on her resume, skill set, and their recommendation. Would I have hesitated if they’d clued me into the fact that she looks like she could be a model if she were so inclined? Probably. There’s a better-than-good chance I’d have pushed her resume to the side. I know that’s shitty, but it’s honest. I’ve got enough trouble without adding anything else to the list. And yet… here and now, looking at this beautiful woman cuddling with my suddenly serene pup, I’m glad I had no idea.
“I’m sure you have somewhere else to be,” Ashley says. “Don’t feel like you have to stay.”
To hell with that. I plan to get to know her better, which means leaving isn’t on the agenda unless she wants me to go. Dropping into the chair Millie vacated, I reach down and take one of the two remaining wine coolers from the four-pack carton between our seats.
“I’d love to stay and watch the sunset with you, unless you’re trying to hoard these bad boys for yourself,” I tease as I hold up the wine cooler.
The blush that spreads out over her cheeks is ridiculously hot. I’ve seen women blush before, but it’s never made my dick throb. I can’t even say I’m surprised by my reaction. Earlier today, when she licked her finger to turn the page on notes Felicity left her, I had to retreat to my office so she wouldn’t see I’d started to get hard. I had to visualize the Queen of England naked to get myself under control. I’ll probably have nightmares tonight, but at least it worked.
“I’m not trying to hoard the wine coolers,” she answers. Her soft, almost musical chuckle is something to be added to the list of things I find sexy about her.