12

She wasn't sure if it was those startling dark eyes of his. Or it could’ve been those incredibly wide shoulders that would make any woman feel petite, or that broad chest and those…

“What am I doing?” She smacked her forehead with her palm, pushing those thoughts aside.

Going to him for help had nothing to do with envisioning him in boxers or showing off hard, naked abs. And the last thing she needed to be doing right now was mentally molesting the man. It was highly unlikely that he’d be happy to hear from her, but it was his job. Unable to find the number, she scooped up the letter she'd received, placed it back into the package it'd come in and shoved it into her bag.

Fuck finding his number, she thought. She'd go straight to the station and find him there. She left her house, in search of a very different type of asshole.

—--------

Detective Alaric Harper's phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans for the second time in the last hour. He needed to continue ignoring it. He should
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