1
Anthony
Everyoneon the force looks forward to the Burly Creek Police Department’s annual picnic, and no one more than me. It’s a chance for us to let our guard down and play as hard as we work. This year however, I can’t seem to relax. Maybe it’s because I’m in line for a detective position, or because I worked the midnight shift last night. Who am I kidding? It’s neither of those things. The fact that my buddy’s sister, Phoebe, is here—tall and curvy with the most stunning hazel eyes I’ve ever seen—is what’s got my stomach in knots.
She brushes a long strand of her white blonde hair over her shoulder. The sunlight catches the sparkle in her eye. When she smiles, it feels like time stands still. As if on cue, she turns her head in my direction and wags her fingers. This is my chance. I haven’t had a moment with her all afternoon, and the picnic’s almost over.
I grab two cans of beer from the icy cooler, shaking off the excess water as I make my way over to her. With my heart in my throat, I think about what to say. I’ve always believed actions speak louder than words but with Phoebe, it’s like I’m paralyzed by her. She draws something out in me I haven’t felt since I was that fat kid in gym class, the fear of rejection strong and thick.
Still, I can’t waste an opportunity to connect with her. You don’t let the woman of your dreams slip through your fingers because you’ve got baggage.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Anthony Hunter.” Her rosebud lips spread into a smile and it’s like the angels are smiling down on me.
“Ms. Strong.” Her eyes widen when I offer her a beer.
“What, are you psychic? I was just heading over to grab myself one of these.” Her fingers brush mine when she takes the beer. A wave of desire pools through me. The woman is made of pure magic. “And Phoebe works just fine.”
My gaze falls to the grass to hide my smile. “I’m not psychic, Phoebe, but I am a cop.” I tap my can against hers. “Intuition is part of the job.”
She cracks the can and licks her lips before lifting her chin to the sky and taking a long, smooth drink. It’s impossible for me to ignore the gentle curve of her neck, how soft it would feel against my lips. I tear my eyes away and crack my own beer open, wondering how on earth I could ever truly express to this goddess how I feel about her without sounding like a helpless romantic.
Phoebe runs the back of her hand along her lips. “How’s life?”
“No complaints.” Other than the fact that I’m standing in front of a woman I’m head over heels for and can’t spit out the words. If only I could find the nerve to just tell her how I feel. A short silence between us passes before Phoebe presses her fingers to her lips to suppress a giggle. My head snaps in her direction. “What?”
“I’ve never met anyone as comfortable with silence as you, Anthony.”
Comfortable? I’m in misery here. “I guess everyone has their strengths.” My heart starts racing. “You’re lucky, you’re an extrovert. You could draw up a constructive conversation with anyone here.” I draw a line through the air at everyone at the picnic.
“Everyone but you.” She pokes her finger into my chest. “I mean, we could talk about the weather or what’s happening around town, but…” she leans in, and I draw in her lilac perfume. “I won’t hold it against you.”
I lean back and gaze into her mischievous hazel eyes. “You shouldn’t.”
Phoebe playfully rolls her eyes and presses her beer can against mine once more before taking one more sip and setting it down on the picnic table. “I’ve got to get going. Babysitting duty calls.” She hoists her purse over her sun-kissed shoulder. “It’s not a good look to show up tipsy, even if it is just my brother. One beer,” She licks her lips and meets my eyes. “And I had it with you.”
“I like your dress.” It comes out before I can stop it. My lack of finesse causes a rush of heat to flush my cheeks. Phoebe runs her hand down the side of her pale yellow sundress.
“Thank you, Anthony.” She sings. “It’s new, and you’re the only person who noticed.” Jesus, how could I not? The simple cotton number hugs her like it was custom made, showing off her perfect curves with just enough cleavage to leave a man wanting more.
“I do what I can.”
“Well,” she says, and the awkward silence passes between us again. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Count on it.” I narrow my eyes at her. Phoebe heads to her brother, Weston, who is with his wife, Devon. She gives his arm a squeeze, and before she leaves shoots me a look over her shoulder.
My body doesn’t know what to do. Overwhelmed by desire and the feeling of helplessness, of not being able to get the words out to tell this woman how I feel, there’s only one thing for me to do. I head over to Weston and give him a bro hug.
“Are you out of here?” He asks, and I nod.
Devon smiles up at me, plump, pregnant and practically glowing. “Where ya headed?” The gleam in her eye makes me think she’s hiding something.
“Do you have to ask?” Weston teases. “Do a few reps for me, man.” He slaps my shoulder and I head to my truck. Tension knots my shoulders as I leave the picnic. It isn’t until I’ve changed into my gym clothes and am standing in front of the weights with my headphones blaring that I even start to feel better, but I can’t get the nagging thoughts out of my head.
With every rep I think of Phoebe. I know she’s the woman for me. I’ve spent my life improving myself, being the man who protects people from the bullies. Phoebe is the most beautiful, caring woman I’ve ever met, and I know that we’re meant to be together. I just have to find a way to get over my own shit and make her mine forever.
2
Phoebe