Page 5 of Hot Lovin'

I lean against the counter, casual-like, even though there’s nothing casual about the way my pulse is kicking up a fuss in my chest and my groin. “You mentioned needing my help on a case?” I remind her, my curiosity not entirely unprofessional. Stalling her might be a side effect, but part of my job is knowing what’s happening in my town.

Her forehead creases with concern, and a serious expression replaces her smile. I miss it already. “A tough one, actually. It involves a child, a little boy. My boss received a call from the hospital. Apparently, you were involved in removing him from his parents?”

Recognition hits me like a gut punch. Aiden. The little boy we had to take from the hospital last night. I spoke to Jan about the case the night before.

“Yeah, I know the case.” My words are heavy, laced with the weight of a responsibility that never leaves my shoulders. “My office took the call.”

“Then you understand why I need to hurry,” Lottie says, a determination in her eyes that tells me she’s in this job for all the right reasons. She bites her lip and glances around her. “I don’t discuss my clients with just anyone, you know? Well, I guess I can with you, but, um, this isn’t the place to talk about it.”

She’s right. This isn’t the place to talk about her cases at all. Lottie is relatively new in town, although “new” around here means not from Sunrise Bay, which translates into “fodder for gossip.” I can already hear the old timers speculating over their checkerboards. Although, I don’t hear any murmuring behind me, so that probably means they’re watching every move we make.

I nod, appreciating her professionalism and confidentiality. “Of course. I’m snowed under today, but how about I swing by your office tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. And it will give me a chance to visit Aiden.” She smiles again, and I fight the urge to grin like some lovestruck idiot on the receiving end of his first smile from a woman.

“Take care, Lottie.” I watch her push open the door, stepping into the crisp morning light, leaving me with the echo of that smile and a warmth that no amount of spilled coffee can dampen.

“Lottie,” I call after her.

She stops and turns, a question in her gaze.

“I’m a bit late, but welcome to Sunrise Bay.”

Lottie blushes. “Thank you.”

She exits, leaving me with a stained uniform, an inappropriate boner, and an unexpected flicker of warmth in a chest I thought had turned to stone long ago.

“Quinn Jordan, you old dog,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as I head back to the counter to finally grab the bag of food and coffee in a tray.

“Something different about you today, Sheriff?” Sally teases from behind the register.

“Nothing a fresh cup of coffee won’t fix,” I bluff, but we both know I’m lying. Something has shifted, and as much as I want to deny it, Lottie’s crash introduction this morning feels like the first ray of sunlight piercing an endless overcast sky.

With a renewed sense of... something, I step out of the cafe, ready to face whatever Sunrise Bay throws my way today.

Chapter 3

Lottie

I startle as someone knocks on my office door and look up from my computer with a frown. Someone knocking means something I have to deal with, and I already have a lot on my plate with Aiden’s case.

After a restless night, I drove to the temporary foster home this morning to meet the quiet, timid little boy, who immediately stole my heart with his worried frowns and his need to be loved. I sensed it in him, his burning desire to be loved by someone, anyone. I’ll give him all I can, even if that means I do it from my office desk.

“Come in!”

Sheriff Quinn Jordan stands in the doorway. “Afternoon, Lottie.”

His deep voice could soothe wild horses. Or, more fittingly, cause a certain social worker with little-to-no experience with men to melt into a puddle of goo behind her desk.

The man is gorgeous. Big. Broad. Brawny. Strong brow, defined nose, sharp jaw. If I had to guess, I’d put him in his early thirties. An air of loneliness clings to him, along with a hard-bitten worldliness like he’s seen enough of the dark side of life to cease being shocked by anything. He seems like a man who takes everything—including himself—too seriously.

He moves into the room, making the already small space seem even smaller. He’s all wide shoulders and solid frame, making me feel small and delicate in a way I’ve never experienced before. My pulse thrums a little faster as his gaze takes me in, consuming every detail.

My lips stretch into an inviting smile that I quickly dial down a notch or two. I know my eternal optimism grates on some people, but it’s a shield for the excruciating shyness that’s plagued me all my life.

I made a complete fool of myself when I stumbled into him earlier, upending his coffee all over him. My cheeks warm at the mortifying memory of this morning. Me, barreling into the café and plowing into him, sending hot coffee down his uniform shirt. He’s obviously changed as an espresso-free shirt now stretches taut over his broad chest.

“Good afternoon, Sher...uh, Quinn,” I amend my greeting. “Have you come to arrest me for assault with a deadly beverage?”

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