Page 1 of Her Only Hero

Chapter One

Police and Forensic Complex, Cedar Key, Ohio

When I offered to work overtime, my lab colleagues were more than willing to leave early on a Friday afternoon, and with no plans, and no life, I was more than willing to stay. I stood by the humming centrifuge, waiting for DNA samples to spin down. I slipped off a shoe and wriggled my toes. My mind wandered back to two years ago today, this last day of August.

I reached into my lab coat pocket and removed a folded, time-worn note and reread it for the umpteenth time. Emotions squeezed inside my chest, but no tears came. Beautiful promises had been reduced to just words. I ripped the sheet into two, four, eight pieces and let the bits flutter into the trash can like radioactive fallout.

The cavernous lab had become my safe place, work my focus. Unlike relationships, the lab was organized, controlled, and predictable. Though as of late, I wondered what it would be like to venture out to crime scenes and collect evidence myself.The centrifuge shut off with a click. One at a time, I removed test tubes and put them in a rack.

The main door swung open.

Officer Patrick Verbeek.

In his black uniform, he walked with smooth, deliberate strides and impeccable posture. Secretly, I found his presence, and the way he moved, highly attractive, though he had many other positive qualities as well. He held up a green plastic bottle of my favorite aloe beverage.

His ever-assessing gaze held me—an expression that had intimidated me when we first made our acquaintances well over two years ago. But now I knew a witty personality lurkedbeneath a stern exterior. Still, a “smart” crook wouldn’t dare lie to him.

I hobbled toward him as I slid my shoe back on and took a couple of bills from a drawer.

“Hey, Officer. You’re working late too?” I handed him the money for the bottle. “Thank you for this. I needed a boost.”

He glanced at his palm and then back at me. “Why won’t you allow me to buy you a drink?” he said softly. “It’s just aloe juice, not a cocktail.”

He was right. I hadn’t let him treat me to anything—not a donut, not a coffee, and certainly not a date—though he had tried, often. His dark brows furrowed over his sapphire eyes.

“Here,” he said and leaned close to me. Only my diaphragm moved as I inhaled a fresh scent of lime. He touched my hip as he slipped the money into my lab-coat pocket. I took a step back.

“Please, let me do this,” he said.

I stood transfixed, still feeling the tingle of his touch.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I hesitated before shaking my head. I didn’t add that the tough part was resisting his manliness. Was that a word? My pulse quickened, and my body became a radiator. Damned primitive biological response.

He looked around and leaned against the counter. “Did everyone bail on you again?” The corner of his mouth turned up—mischievous and mocking.

“I wouldn’t say that.” My voice sounded hoarse, and I cleared my throat. “Overtime is optional. I chose to stay.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and the cuffs of his short-sleeved shirt tightened around his biceps. My insides continued warming. I’d been single and alone for some time, and every subtle nuance of Patrick’s physique affected me, despite my efforts not to react.

“Don’t you have a radio? It’s too quiet in here.”

“Yes, there is a radio, and no, it’s not too quiet. I prefer the silence.” I put my drink on the counter. “So, Officer, are you working on any new exciting cases?”

“Just traffic detail today, if you want to call that exciting.”

“Haha. Definitely not.”

He pushed away from the bench top. “If you’re almost finished, I can give you a lift home.”

“Thanks, but no. I have a bus pass.”

“Your car finally gave up the ghost?”

I half-smiled and put some paperwork aside. For safety reasons, Patrick had tried to talk me into getting a four-by-four. “My hatchback is great. I’m just giving the old girl a rest.”

“So, seriously, how about a ride?”

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