Page 4 of Hot Lovin'

The door behind me jingles again. I don’t bother looking up until a flurry of movement catches my peripheral vision, followed by a searing wet heat splashing across my chest as someone stumbles into me.

“Shoot! Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry!” A voice, bright and flustered, breaks through the usual murmur of the coffee shop.

My eyes snap to the source, a woman, probably fresh from college, with a cascade of hair that shimmers like honey in the morning light and a body that would bring a grown man to his knees. Her white linen shirt clings to her large breasts, and her stretchy black leggings mold to her wide hips and chunky thighs. She’s deliciously plump with extra inches a man could dig his fingers into as he fucks her hard with zero fear of breaking her.

My cock twitches behind my zipper, and I clear my throat at the unexpected direction of my thoughts. Been a long damn time since a woman has affected me this way. Hell, I’m not sure it’s ever happened in my limited experience.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, looking mortified as she grips an armful of papers and files.

“Don’t worry about it,” I grumble, though the sticky liquid is already soaking into my uniform, setting a day’s worth of grime into the fabric.

“I’m so clumsy sometimes. Here, let me help,” she babbles, reaching out with napkins that stand no chance against the dark stain spreading across the tan material of my shirt. “Let me try to?—”

“Really, it’s fine.” My voice comes out sharper than I intended.

She retreats a step, cheeks flushed.

I frown. “New in town?”

I know every face in Sunrise Bay, and I would remember hers because, well, she's striking. Light brown eyes, full lips, a small nose, and a softly rounded chin all set in a heart-shaped face. She has a fresh-faced beauty that washes over me like the ocean breeze, invigorating my senses and filling my mind with endless possibilities. Her face is unfamiliar, yet I feel as if I’ve seen her before, like a part of me knows her from a different life and has been waiting for her.

What the fuck?I shake my head to clear the spell she’s woven effortlessly around me.

“Um, no, I’ve been here for a few months. I’m Lottie. I work at the social services office with Elizabeth. I would shake your hand, but they're a little full right now,” she says, tipping her chin toward the armful of files.

A breeze blows through the cafe, and a stray lock of hair floats in front of her face. She goes cross-eyed and attempts to blow it out of the way without success.

Fuck, she's cute.

I reach out instinctively to tuck it behind her ear, and her breath catches as my fingers graze her smooth cheek. I tell myself it’s static that makes the contact linger longer than necessary. Jesus, her skin is soft. Is she that soft all over? Suddenly, it's all I can think about.

“Social worker, huh?” I say more to myself than her.

I know Jan’s been asking the county for help with her workload for months, but this is the first time I've met her new staff member. The town could use someone with a fresh perspective, especially someone dedicated to protecting kids.

Sally slides a new coffee and my order across the counter with apologetic eyes. “On the house today, Sheriff.”

“Thanks.” I nod, taking a sip. Perfect, as always. But the taste is secondary to my unexpected encounter with what can only be described as a ray of sunshine in human form. I find myself stealing another glance at Lottie, wanting to bask in her warmth.

“Oh, you’re the sheriff!” Lottie states as if she’s only now registering the uniform and badge. “Crap. Way to go making a good first impression, Lottie,” she mutters under her breath as if I'm not there. She shakes her head and crumples the soiled napkins in her hand before her eyes lift to mine. “Jan suggested I speak to you about the case that came in last night, but I can see this isn't a good time or place, especially since I've doused you in hot coffee. Again, I’m sorry about that,” she finally finishes, snapping her mouth closed.

“Accidents happen. No real harm done,” I say, softer this time. I want to tell her not to worry, that it’ll wash out, but the words feel clunky on my tongue.

“Thanks, Sheriff...?” She pauses, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips.

My blood rushes south as I stare at those shiny lips for several long seconds before I remember she’s waiting for me to answer her.

“Jordan. Sheriff Jordan.”

“Thank you, Sheriff Jordan.” Lottie’s caramel eyes hold a trace of lingering embarrassment as she gifts me with a smile that makes my heart stutter and stirs something in me that’s been dormant for too long. A smile like that should be accompanied by a chorus of angels.

“Quinn is fine,” I correct.

Her smile grows a little, becomes more genuine, and damn if it doesn’t light up the cafe.

“Quinn,” she repeats, testing it out.

I like the way my name sounds on her lips too much.

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