Stealing Her Heart

“You have to let him out,” I practically scream.

“Let who out, ma’am?”

Ma’am? Ouch. He certainly looks like a rookie on the force, but I can’t have more than five or six years on him. Certainly not enough to warrant such a title as Ma’am.

“The guy you arrested. I was wrong. I didn’t read the rest of the note.” I hand it over to the officer. He holds it up and reads it out loud: “Hand over your phone number and nobody gets hurt?”

“I only read the first line when I pressed the emergency button. I thought he was demanding all my money, but he was just trying to pick me up. God, I’m so stupid.”

But if I’m expecting the officer to agree with me, to escort me outside where we can release the innocent man, and I can fall at his feet, begging forgiveness, I’m terribly mistaken for the second time today.

“We can talk about this at the station,” he says, handing the note back to me.

“What do you mean ‘at the station’? He’s innocent! We have to let him out now.”

“Ma’am,” he says again, but his voice is lower, more conspiratorial now. “You’re familiar with Shane, right? I’ve heard him say that you two went to school together. Well, he’s like a fox in the middle of the largest hencoop west of the Mississippi right now. If I tell him that the fun’s over, he’ll make my life hell until he gets over it. And he’s like a bulldog, ma’am. He doesn’t forget things real easy.”

That sounds like Shane, but regardless, I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “So we just drag this thing out? What about the poor guy who was never planning to rob the bank?” I keep calling him a guy, because I don’t know his name. I need to at least know that basic information.

“Like I said,” the officer continues. “We’ll have to sort that out at the station.”

I look around the lobby at the other three officers lounging around. I could repeat my story again and again, but I’d probably get the exact same results. Still, there’s one person who will believe my story, even if there’s nothing he can do about it.

I rush out the double doors and scan the collection of police cruisers parked haphazardly in our parking lot. The one up front has a silhouette in the backseat. I cup my hands at the sides of my face and look inside. The hottie who was only interested in me, not my cash, is sitting in there, his head slumped. When I bang on the window, he looks up with a start.

Those gorgeous blue eyes are staring up at me through the tinted glass. I’m sure the reason it takes him a second to recognize me is due to the fact that his brain is going crazy trying to figure out how he got here. But then his eyes go wide and he lunges across the distance separating us.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“It’s my fault,” I say and hold up the note. “I thought you were robbing me.”

“How is asking for your number even remotely close to robbing you?” Even through the tinted glass, I can see how he struggles against the handcuffs holding his arms behind his back.

“I’m going to get you out of this,” I promise him though I’m not sure how to go about fulfilling this oath. Shane isn’t about to give up his most interesting catch. Nor do I wish to give up my cushy job at the bank, which is surely what will happen once my bosses figure out that this whole fiasco was my fault.

What am I supposed to do?

The right thing, that’s what.

So without thinking about how this will look—or of the consequences it may rain down on me when the rumor mill gets hold of it—I open the backdoor of the police cruiser. But before the not-a-robber can begin even thinking I’m breaking him out of his unlawful imprisonment, I slide into the seat beside him and close the door. With no handles on the inside, I’m now stuck with my decision. More importantly, I’m stuck with the guy who has already changed my little world before we’ve even been introduced.

I hold out my hand before remembering that he won’t be reciprocating any handshakes in his current predicament. I then place my hands on my lap and pull at the hem of my skirt.

“I’m Hailey, and I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

Chapter 4

Robert

After allowing the desire to tear into this girl like I would one of my incompetent employees, I let a sigh fall from my lips.

“Robert McAvery.”

“McAvery?” She repeats with a questioning tone. The way she looks up at the roof of the car while trying to place the name is both endearing and cute. It reveals her lovely neckline, which despite this mess I still haven’t given up on kissing by the end of the day. “Isn’t there some kind of investing firm with that name?”

I shrug as though I’ve never heard of the company my grandfather founded. The same one my father took over a year ago. It’s the entire reason I’m in this wretched backwater town. And the moment I’m able to talk to someone at the police station with an education higher than middle school, I’m sure my name will earn me more apologies than are necessary. But for now, I’m stuck in the back of this cruiser like some common criminal.

Still. At least the company is good.