Page 14 of No Cap

A commotion at the police line had me looking that way.

I saw her walk up—no, run—and hoped this wasn’t the one I was waiting for.

This woman walking toward me? She was in a pair of thin as fuck black shorts—likely sleep shorts—a black tank top, and those rubber boots that people wore in the mud.

And my God, did she fill out the little clothing she was wearing.

Hips.

Ass.

Tits.

Thighs.

There wasn’t a single thing about her thick body that I didn’t want to put my mouth on.

If I could’ve dreamed up a perfect woman for me, it would’ve been her.

Garrett, my brother, shifted at my side.

He’d gotten there sometime after I had and had been outside doing crowd control. But when I’d come down, we’d had a small chat about the stuff going on upstairs, and I’d told him I was waiting for a woman to arrive that the mom asked me to talk to for her.

And there she was.

“Whoa,” my brother, Garrett, said. “She’s exactly your type.”

Even my brothers knew my type.

Dark hair. Curves.

She had it all.

“Please don’t be her,” I muttered under my breath.

But my luck wasn’t that great.

Of course it would be her.

She all but ran up to me, her eyes huge in her face—eyes that were the color of Tennessee Whiskey—and frantically asked, “Are you Officer Carter?”

Well, fuck.

“Yes,” I answered. “Detective Carter with the Dallas Police Department.”

She moved into the light of the building, and I recognized her from earlier.

The woman with the Corolla.

I’d had the same visceral reaction to her then, having seen and tried to convince her to move her car for all of three minutes. But she’d been holding down a two-year-old with two broken wrists, and I’d let her be.

It was either that, or get mad she wasn’t acknowledging me, and I’d been too damn tired for that. I’d been running on four hours of sleep, a hope, and a prayer.

Earlier she’d been in scrubs with her hair up, and partially blocked by the table she’d been holding that kid down on. She’d been wearing a thick vest that was supposed to help with the radiation, and a lethal scowl that let me know she didn’t want to deal with any of my shit.

Now, her hair was cascading down her back and looked like it’d been artfully styled instead of her just rolling out of bed like I knew she did.

I was going to fucking hell.