Commanding the Curvy Girl (Spoon Heroes)

Chapter Two

Easton

O ne Month Later

"I need a favor."

I stare levelly at the sheriff, trying to decide if I want to shoot him in the knee or entertain whatever bullshit he's about to hit me with. Dillon Armstrong is a good man. He's also a fucking liar. When he hired me, he told me this job was easy.

I was dumb enough to believe him. Silver Spoon Falls is a small town. How hard could the job possibly be?

Ha. Working homicide in Dallas caused me less stress than the motherfuckers here. And I left Dallas after getting shot. So, yeah.

Every damn week, some new bullshit crosses my desk. And nine times out of ten, it comes complete with a motherfucker madly in love, willing to break eighty different laws just to protect his girl. I'm never drinking the water in this town. It turns everyone into crazy people.

"I don't think I want to do you another favor," I mutter. "My goddamn leg still hurts from the last favor."

His lips twitch. "No one said you had to chase the damn goats down Broadway, motherfucker. That was all you. Molly just told you to find them."

Ah, Molly.

The beautiful, brilliant bane of my existence in this goddamn town. I don't know if she tortures everyone who wears a badge or if I'm a special case because I pissed her off, but she's given me every shit call since I started.

And she does it with this sugary-sweet tone that makes my cock throb. The little minx knows exactly what she's doing to me, too. I know she knows because I fucking tell her every chance I get. But she won't even give me the time of day.

The first time I stepped foot in dispatch and saw her, she knocked me flat on my ass. She looked so goddamn beautiful with her blonde hair up in a messy bun, a pen stuck behind her ear, her blue eyes alight, and her laugh still ringing through the room. Her curvy body was wrapped up in a Sheriff's Department jacket. I've never wanted to be a fucking jacket until that second.

And then she saw me standing there, blinked those pretty eyes, and asked if I wanted something.

Apparently, "yeah, you" was the wrong answer. She's been mad as hell ever since, like a prickly little lamb. Only, this prickly little lamb assigns my calls.

Taunting a cranky dispatcher was not my finest moment.

Which is precisely why I'm chasing fucking goats down Broadway at eight o'clock on a Monday morning while she listens in on the radio, probably laughing her pretty little ass off.

She's going to marry me.

She just doesn't know it yet.

And I just haven't figured out how to make it happen yet. I've endured four full weeks of her torture so far. She isn't bending. I may need to get creative, or I may never get her out from behind that console and into my arms.

"What's your favor?" I ask Dillon…only because I have nothing else going on.

"I need someone on patrol on nights this week. Jacobson is out. His wife just gave birth."

"Fuck," I groan, tipping my head back. "How'd I pull the short straw?"

"You didn't. I'm asking you to volunteer."

"What happens if I say no?" I ask, not believing that bullshit for a minute. Dillon is too goddamn good at this game. He knows exactly how to hit us where it hurts and walk away looking like roses. The clever bastard.

"For you? Not a damn thing." He shrugs like it doesn't matter to him. "I'll just voluntell Ashton to work it." He pauses. "Molly likes him better than she likes you anyway."

I freeze, not even breathing. "Molly is working nights?"

"Yep." Dillon stretches his arms over his head. "All week. What do you think? Will Ashton last the full week before he asks her out?"

"You shady motherfucker," I growl when his lips twitch. He knows damn well that Ashton Gannon isn't interested in Molly. He also knows I am. I haven't exactly made a secret of it. He was in dispatch when I made the comment that pissed her off originally. The dick is dangling the prospect of her and Ashton in front of me to get what he wants. And it's fucking working.

There's no way I'm going to risk that shit happening. Hell no.

"I'll work the damn shift." It's no wonder people in this town love Dillon. He can play dirty with the best of them. The fucker.

He throws his head back, a loud crack of laughter bursting from his lips. "Goddamn, you're easy, Easton."

I hoist my middle finger in the air, scowling at him.

He slaps me on the back, still laughing.

"Just FYI, when she agrees to marry me, you aren't invited to the wedding."

An amused grin flashes across his face. "If she agrees to marry you, I'll pay for the goddamn wedding, motherfucker."

Well, shit. Looks like I need to get my ass in gear then. Dillon Armstrong has him a wedding to pay for. And I plan to invite every motherfucker in this town. Except Ashton.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, typing out a text.

Me: You aren't allowed to work nights.

Not even five seconds later, three little dots come up as Ashton types his response.

Ashton: LOL. She hates you, bro.

I scowl at the text. He's probably right. But I'm living in the land of delusion, so fuck him.

I send him back the middle finger emoji. Simple. Efficient. And it makes me feel better. Win-win.

An hour later, I step through the doors to dispatch, grinning.

Molly glances up from her console, sees me, and her blue eyes immediately narrow. "Aren't you off duty, Easton?"

"Yep." I smirk, striding toward her desk. "Came to see you, princess."

"You saw me. You can go now." She bats her lashes at me, a bite to her smile that makes me want to yank her out of that seat and kiss the fire from her lips.

"So eager to get rid of me," I tease.

"So, you can take hints." She eyes me levelly. "Imagine that."

Goddamn, she's perfect.

I chuckle, propping my hip against the side of her desk. I glance down, peeking at the paperwork spread across her console. "Break-in reports?"

She mumbles something under her breath.

"I didn't hear you, princess."

"I said I'm looking at something."

"What?" I ask, genuinely curious what she's noticed. Molly is smart as hell. There isn't much she doesn't see or piece together with ease. I don't know how she landed in dispatch, but she's damn good at the job. I'm fucking dying to know every little thing about her. What I've learned so far fascinates the hell out of me.

She pretends she's prickly as hell, but beneath it, she's so goddamn sweet it's unreal. The way she's able to relate to everyone and calm even the most hysterical callers is a skill most don't possess. There's just something…soothing about her. I don't just come in here because I want to fuck her—which I do. I come here because, even though it's fucking chaos in here some days, she makes me feel peaceful.

I haven't had much of that since I was shot. The nightmares have been a bitch. The days I come in here and see her, they're not nearly as bad. It's like I feel her presence long after I leave or something. I don't know. It doesn't make any goddamn sense. I just know that the days I see her, I sleep better.

She holds my gaze for a long moment and then huffs and hands me a stack of break-in reports. "These have all happened in the last two months," she says. "All over Silver Spoon Falls. Different neighborhoods, all hours of the night. Even during the day occasionally. But…" She stretches, grabbing a flyer to hold out toward me. "In every case, they happened within two or three days of an open house being held next door."

I glance at the flyer, noting the address for the house beside the break-in we worked a few days ago. She's right on all accounts.

"Impressive," I murmur, not really surprised she put it together. She should be wearing a badge herself. I haven't quite worked out yet why she isn't. From what I've learned about her, she graduated with a degree in criminal justice. "How'd you get the flyer?"

"House shopping," she mutters.

"You're house shopping?"

"Can you focus, Easton?" She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm not talking to you about my future house."

"So, what I'm hearing is that you don't want me to tell you not to bother looking because you'll be living with me soon?"

Her eyes go wide, her mouth popping open. She's so goddamn cute when she's surprised. It doesn't last long. Within half a second, she's shaking it off, narrowing her eyes at me. "Will you stop doing that?" she growls.

"What?"

"Flirting with me. Saying ridiculous stuff. I'm not one of your badge bunnies."

I throw my head back, laughing loudly.

"What's so funny?"

"The fact that you think I have badge bunnies." I touch her cheek, shaking my head. "You've got the wrong motherfucker, Molly. One day, you'll actually hear me when I tell you that I am not that guy."

I've thought about telling her that I'm still a goddam virgin, but she's determined to believe that I'm fucking everything that moves. I have a feeling she won't believe the truth even if I spell it out for her. It is the truth, though. I never really fucking cared what people thought about it because it's always been my business, but I want her to know me—really know me.

"Right. And you're just in here, annoying me every day for the fun of it." She rolls her eyes again. "I've heard it before from guys just like you, Easton. My dad was one."

Well, shit. Her comment draws me up short. Is that what this is about? She won't give me the time of day because she grew up with a cop as a father? Fuck. That is not good news for me.

I'm well aware of the reputation a lot of cops have. For some of them—a lot of them—it's earned. Women throw themselves at a man with a badge, and too many don't say no. They sleep around like it's part of the job description. But I've never been that guy. I didn't get into law enforcement because I wanted to get laid or had an ego that needed stroking or any of that bullshit.

Like her dad, mine is a cop—a federal agent. It's in my blood. He takes his oath seriously. He's also been devoted to my mom since the day they met. That's the kind of future I want—one woman to go home to at the end of the day. One woman who makes all the bullshit worth it.

My mom has always been that woman for my dad. Molly already feels like that woman to me. I barely even know her, but I feel it in my bones. It's this sense of…rightness, of completion. When I look at her, I feel like I'm looking at fate. I just need her to give me a chance to prove to her that I'm not another asshole with a badge.

"I'm not your dad, princess. I'm not any of them," I murmur quietly. "One day soon, you're going to figure that out. Until then…" I brush my thumb along her bottom lip and smile at her before stepping away from her console. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"What? Tomorrow night?" she practically squeaks. "What do you mean you'll see me tomorrow night?"

"It's me and you tomorrow night, princess." I pause at the door, glancing over my shoulder at her. The look of horror on her face is absolutely fucking worth it. "Matter of fact, it's me and you all week. By the way, you're right about the break-ins. Good catch."

The tiny smile she gives me is even better than that look of horror.

Christ, I can't wait until she's mine.