Page 2 of Blind Date With a Cop
With eyes locked on me, he weaves his way through the group of preening women. He’s so ridiculously attractive I can’t look away. I pick up my wine glass, draining it.
When he reaches the table, Nan is grinning from ear to ear. “Cassie, this is your blind date, Officer Blake Donovan. Blake, meet our Cassie.”
“Date?” I echo before I can stop myself.
“Date?” He echoes back. “I thought I was here because you spotted a prowler outside?”
“Oh, that,” Nan waves her hand, “Clara’s Ernie stopped out back to drop off the cookies she forgot at home. He was banging on the door so loud we thought for sure he was a prowler.”
His mouth twitches, “Is that so?”
“Cross my heart,” Nan draws her fingers across her chest.
I want to crawl under the table and die. “I’m sorry, officer. This is all a terrible misunderstanding.”
“I see that,” he nods.
“It won’t happen again. You have my word.”
“Alright, you ladies enjoy the rest of your evening.”
As soon as he leaves the lounge, Gran kicks me under the table. “What’s wrong with you?” she hisses. “That man is perfect for you. Nan went to a lot of trouble finding you the perfect blind date.”
“I don’t do blind dates. And I don’t date men old enough to be my father.” I hiss back.
I hear a cough and look up to see a dark blue uniform.
“My shift ends in an hour. I’ll be back to pick you up for our blind date,” Blake declares.
My jaw drops, but before I can protest, he’s already walking away.
“Gran,” I groan, gripping the edge of the table. “What just happened?”
She beams, “You just got claimed, sugar.”
Chapter Two
Blake
I stop at my cruiser, grip the door handle, and try to breathe some sense back into my brain. What in the hell was I thinking? Cassie definitely isn’t interested in a blind date—or me.
A man in his right mind would’ve turned around and walked away the minute he heardI don’t do blind dates. And I don’t date men old enough to be my father.
But I’m not in my right mind. Not anymore.
The moment I saw her wide green eyes, that tumble of long auburn hair, and creamy freckled skin, I knew—she’s the one.
The one woman with the power to bring me to my knees.
Not dating her, I scrub my hand across my face; it’s not even a choice.
She’s mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter Three
Cassie
