Mrs. L, Ford’s grandmother who lived with us on the Ledger property, asked me to pick up a dozen eggs for her, so she could make a birthday cake. She was always making baked goods for everyone in town, and I was happy to volunteer to collect them, but now she’d have to wait. No way was I leaving my woman while she handled a traffic stop. I’d let her do her thing, but I pulled my gun from the console just in case.
The guy wasn’t wearing an IED strapped to his chest, but still. I protected what was mine.
Megan being a law enforcement officer made my dick hard. Yeah, everything about her did that, but the idea that she believed in justice and wanted to enforce it was plain hot. It didn’t hurt that I knew what those curves felt like, the ones not well hidden beneath her brown uniform.
Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun low on her neck, but she still looked fucking amazing. After being in New York and Vegas for the bodyguard/babysitting job, laying eyes on her again only made me want her even more. I knew what her body felt like, what she sounded like when she came.
I pushed that aside though because her job involved bad shit. I’d only dealt with military-grade bad stuff, but growing up on the rough city streets, I knew what went down. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that Sparks was immune to wife beaters or drug problems, but that didn’t mean I wanted my woman handling them.
Yeah, I had a problem. I loved that she was a ball buster with a pistol on her hip. But I also wanted to climb out of my truck, get between her and the perp they were chatting up and keep her safe. I was the SEAL. The one trained to deal with all kinds of danger. I volunteered for the Navy knowing full well my life would be at risk. Becoming a SEAL had upped the chances of my early death. I’d taken on that risk and come out alive, unlike Indi’s brother, Buck.
I tensed as I heard the perp’s voice raise through my open window. He was getting belligerent with Megan and her partner. It took everything in me not to draw my weapon and step forward. They had to follow procedure, but I sure as hell didn’t.
Megan kept her tone even–I couldn’t hear what she said, but I was sure she was laying down the law. Literally.
The perp took a wild swing at her. I reached for the door handle but stopped, transfixed by Megan’s quick response. She smoothly ducked beneath the haymaker, then grabbed the guy’s arm, pressing it into his torso before rolling his wrist into a lock and circling it behind his back. She lifted high, pushing his shoulder almost out of joint before he went along with her efforts and spun around, his face slamming into the hood of the car.
Fuck me, that was impressive. And it pissed me off. My protective instincts roared to life, and I had my fingers around the door handle to go take care of the fucker myself for attacking my woman, but her partner stepped in.
He was a burly guy in his thirties named Dan who was married and had kids, per Ford’s grandma. He pulled his cuffs off his utility belt and slapped them on the fucker. Once secured, Megan stepped away and spoke into her walkie-talkie clipped to her shoulder, I assumed requesting backup.
I watched her chest rise and fall. From a distance, I could tell her adrenaline was pumping, but she was in control. Her gaze scanned her surroundings, and I knew the second she saw me in the distance. Her body stiffened–as if going on high alert–before her shoulders dropped. I didn’t get so much as a chin tilt before she turned her back on me. Dan kicked the man’s feet wide, and he frisked the guy, keeping one hand on the back of his head.
Five minutes later, a second patrol car–backup–arrived with lights and siren. The guy was loaded into the back and driven off just as a tow truck pulled over. I recognized the name on the side–Lander’s Auto Shop–from the place in town. Ford knew the guy. Hell, he knew everyone in town since he’d been raised here.
As Lee Landers and Dan worked on getting the car hooked up, Megan strode my way. Her stride was long, and her gaze focused on me. My dick hardened at the way she stared at me. Pissed and intent. I had to shift in my seat to get comfortable because I was having visions of her telling me I’d been bad and needed to be frisked, cuffed, and thoroughly interrogated.
I set my forearm on the open window as she stepped close and leaned down.