Anyone that stumbles on the quaint coastal town of Shelter Bay might call it sleepy. They may even mistake it for a place where nothing much happens.
Perhaps that's because it's a tight-knit community full of happy families and local businesses go...
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I woke up way too early with my sheets soaked with sweat and my heart in my throat. There's no need for an alarm clock with nightmares like mine. Flashes of the past come back to haunt me when no one's looking. When my defenses are down and I'm asleep.
Only it wasn't a nightmare that got my heart pumping hard enough to wrench me awake. It was a sexy dream.
It was an utterly unexpected and sinfully steamy encounter all wrapped up in one explosive fantasy. The images burned in my memory, melting into my flesh to mark me like a brand.
The cool morning air pinched my nipples against my damp cotton sports bra. My balmy workout clothes had me shivering like a leaf in a storm.
I slid out of bed and unlaced the running shoes I slept in so I could ditch my sweat-drenched sports gear and panties for a dry set.
A crisp snap of chilly ocean air was just what I needed to clear my head. I ran two or three miles every day, depending on the weather.
Mrs. Wallace lived in a fashionable gated community built right into the hills overlooking the tranquil waters of Shelter Bay. Though the scenic oceanfront properties were technically on lease from Swinomish Tribe, most of the folks in the neighborhood had lived there for decades.
I didn't quite understand how it all worked, except that it rarely worked for anyone (on either side of the agreement).
Local real estate tensions aside, I loved jogging through the foggy marine layer that clung to the grassy lawns and sidewalks of the well-kept homes. It reminded me of my childhood in San Francisco.
My breath came in shallow pants that hung in the frigid air and matched the drum of my pulse.
Rock music blasted in my ears to help me keep pace, but it couldn't keep my mind from drifting back to my scandalous dream.
Probably because of who was in it.
I'd just finished my first day of training at The Brick with Monica when I noticed him.
When I looked up to check the time and my day ground to a complete halt. When the butterflies I thought died out years ago awoke at the worst possible moment. When Sergeant Noah Taylor's sooty gaze and commanding build warmed my cheeks and tickled my chest from within.
Only, I knew it was a dream because, unlike real life, he noticed me.
Our eyes collided from across the crowded bistro-style bar and grill to still the gasp on my lips.
The lively chatter of the restaurant's guests and the low twang from the ancient jukebox faded out until all I could hear was the slam of my heart in my ears.
The Sergeant unfolded his puissant physique from Chief Stephens's usual booth to arrest my mind on the spot.
His well-kept beard was darker than his sandy locks, but it looked oh so soft and strokable. Like it might tickle when it touched my bare skin in sensitive places. That made me blush so hard I felt it burn on my inner thighs.
