Sweet Hill Homecoming (Sweet Hill 1)

She closed her eyes briefly. Shit. Tate was the brainy second string kicker whose football games she cheered. The same math genius that she tossed a few smiles so he’d do her homework. And now he was set to make her pay. She was sure of it.

“Look, I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I know I was not the sweetest person in high school but I’m not that girl anymore.” She lifted the ticket. “I just really can’t have this ticket right now. Okay? So is there something you can do? Can we just move on?”

“You can go to court to contest it,” he said and Mia’s whole body was on the verge of a spaz attack.

She was ready to yell, to plead her case and call him several unflattering things. But when he looped his thumbs in the front clasp of his belt, Tatum West looked every bit the strong sexy Deputy and nothing like the skinny teenager from ten years ago. He gave her a smirk, daring her to take this one step further. But it was that smirk that did her in and made her un-bite her tongue.

“Something you care to say, Miss Blake?”

Her night had definitely gone from bad to worse. Between the ticket and her lower back killing her from the bumpy slide through the sunroof, she was officially tapped out. Out of money, patience and the ability to deal with this. And now she had to contend to her stupid neglected body that decided just then to turn on.

~

When the call came in that Mrs. Moberly saw a prowler stalking around the street, Tate figured it was just another shadow she was spooked about. The sixty-five-year-old busy body called every week about something. Tonight it was from her jam shop across the street. But Tate never thought he’d pull up on the back end of Mia Blake. And if he were honest, the most perfect ass he’d ever seen, hanging from a window.

One of his better calls for sure.

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” she said and raised her chin. Tate couldn’t help but be a little amused.

The woman was maybe five-four, nearly a foot shorter than him and she squared her shoulders as if ready to take him on. Even in an apron and what looked to be a pound of flour covering her, she was breathtaking. Not to mention the curviest body that defied the laws of physics he’d ever seen. Full breasts and a small waist that flared to wide hips and shapely backside and thighs. She was sinful, stacked, and a spit fire.

She was also just a person.

And despite the war he had going with his eyes, demanding to take a long leisurely look at her, he kept his stare on her face and his tone even. He was on duty and she was, as of right now, a disgruntled ticket holder.

She squinted and pushed her chest out a little, as if reading his mind that he was battling not to check her out. Challenge accepted. He was, if nothing else, professional.

His eyes stayed locked on hers and he raised a brow, waiting.

“Who do you think you are?” she said.

“Deputy,” he said and tapped the badge on his chest. “West.”

She clearly didn’t appreciate the mockery but she looked kind of cute when she was pissed.

“Obviously, but I don’t see why you’re intent on treating me this way.”

“And what way is that?”

She huffed and Tate could guess what “way” she was referring to. He wasn’t at her feet panting and drooling. Even in high school she was beyond gorgeous, and Tate may have taken a number for her attention back then, but he wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore and she wasn’t the wild cheerleader. Well, she wasn’t a cheerleader. Tate had no idea about the wild part but judging by the looks of her, Mia Blake still had a flare of a temper.

Last he’d heard, she’d moved to Seattle before he got back from the Academy. Whatever the reason she was back, she didn’t seem to be too pleased about it.

“I thought we were friends,” she said with just a hint of a pout. But when she cupped her lower back, effectively sticking her chest out again, he knew the game she was playing.

Tate laughed at that. “The ticket stands, Miss Blake.”

She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and when the lights hit her, he saw the slightest blush tint her creamy skin. Something he’d never accomplished before. Though he couldn’t tell at the moment, memory said that her eyes were a dark turquois. A color like that was unforgettable.

“I didn’t see the paint,” she pointed to the curb. “It’s all chipped and faded. It was dark when I showed up this morning.”

He frowned. This morning? Annie’s Café opened early and if she was here, that meant she easily pulled over a twelve hour shift. Which was unlikely.

Annie was engaged to Tate’s best friend Luke. Since Annie sent her grandmother on a cruise in Florida, she was looking for someone to take her shift. Tate knew Annie well and she wasn’t the kind to run her employees ragged. This was just another way to try to get out of a parking violation. He’d heard several women attempt to get out of tickets before and this sounded like just another line.

One he was familiar with.

“Sorry. Rules are rules,” he said.