Break for Me

By: Shiloh Walker


Thanks to all of my readers. You all make this so worthwhile. Thanks to my editor Monique, for taking a chance on me. Thanks to Aemelia for the early feedback for the series. And thank you so much to my family, for the love and support. You’re my world. I thank God for you.

Chapter One

Sexy, arrogant son of a bitch.

Running her tongue across her teeth, she watched as Dean West entered the room. Of course, Dean just didn’t simply enter a room. He had a way of strolling in, lazy movements and lazy looks, a lazy smile like he was just in to stop and chat.

The first time she’d met him, that lazy demeanor, that slow, lazy voice, and those slow, lazy smiles had caught her off guard. He’d taken over for the previous DA and nobody had been exactly prepared for him. Brent Cummings, a pricey defense attorney who had been brought in after Maria Bingham’s third DUI had landed her snotty ass in jail, had looked right through him, even after Dean had settled into the seat across from him and Maria.

That little meeting had ended with Maria all but sobbing against Brent’s shoulder and her parents bellowing about a misuse of power.

Maria was into her second year in jail. Her parents still cussed Dean out any time his name was brought up. Personally, Jensen didn’t know why they were pissed off at him—Indiana’s laws were a minimum of one year in jail after the third DUI. She was lucky she wasn’t doing the full ten. The judge could have ordered that, especially after she’d plowed her parents’ pricey Benz into a playground. If it had been any earlier in the day…?

Dean’s gaze cut her way and she had to fight not to clench her jaw. Normally, she didn’t mind seeing him around here. Well, that wasn’t entirely honest. She minded. Quite a bit. He made her itchy, in all sorts of ways, but on a professional level, Dean did a kick-ass job.

But today? Yeah. She wasn’t thrilled.

Lou Pruitt, scum of a special sort, was sitting in a cage and he’d claimed he wanted to make a deal, could give up all sorts of names. But he’d only give up those names if he could speak with the attorney who could make him a deal.

That had been hours ago.

Now Dean was back. Dean, with his slick suits, his beautiful smile, and that too-canny brain. Today the suit he wore was black, all black and the suit flowed against a body that was practically imprinted on her brain. Not for the reasons she’d like—the man kept showing up on the same path where she liked to run, dreads tied at the nape of his neck, sweat gleaming along smooth, brown skin. Every damn time she saw him, it was enough to jerk her normally passive libido out of hibernation and make her want to jump him.

Right now, though, if her instincts served her right, she wasn’t going to like what was getting ready to happen.

He came to a stop in front of them and nodded.

No smiles today, huh? Frustration chewed at her as his sober eyes met hers.

“I’m here to speak with Mr. Pruitt,” he said.


* * *

You already know.

Dean’s mother hadn’t raised an idiot and he wisely kept those words behind his teeth. He had a feeling Jensen was already fantasizing about relieving him of a few of those teeth—not that she would. She was a straight cop, clean as they came and while she might fantasize about punching him, she’d vent her fury on the punching bag they kept in the break room/locker room.

She might pin his picture to it, though.

Just then, he didn’t blame her.

This entire thing left him ready to chew nails.

But he was going to concentrate on the end goal.

That was what had to matter.

And no matter what Lou thought, he wasn’t getting out of here with just a smack on the wrist.

Jensen was too good at her job and she’d wrapped him up tight, all but signed, sealed, and delivered.

It would have been a pleasure to put that son of a bitch through a trial, though.

Dean had to focus on the bigger picture, which really sucked, and not the immediate pleasure of walking in there, telling Pruitt to kiss his ass, and then walking away.

In the end, this saved the taxpayers the cost of the trial, Lou would do time, maybe get his act together and they could all focus on some of the bigger problems.

Lou was like a greasy hot dog grabbed from a gas station.

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