Chapter 3

"Enjoy the concert," I say with a huge smile. There's no money for a weed truck quite like money from heavy metal concertgoers. "Thanks for your business. Take a business card."

The man with more piercings on his face than I can count grunts and clutches the paper bag of banana bread against his chest. Huh, I would have thought him a brownie guy, but maybe a nice slice of banana bread reminds him of his mother. Who am I to judge?

The line to my truck snakes around in a winding circle near the gate. Buddy Wilkens, already having eaten his free brownie, waves at me from the metal detectors at the concert entrance. His eyes droop, and he looks out of place at a metal concert in his usual overalls and short-sleeved shirt. It still amazes me that he's so amenable to having me here.

I wait on customers for twenty more minutes, then let Kailee take over when she comes into the truck, already sweating and looking tired from her sub job at the local high school. She puts her gloves and apron on, and I head back to the truck and put another pan of cookies into the oven. We're almost out. I should have known better with the type of concert.

Kailee and I have a flow down, and we work in tandem over the next half hour. The concert will start soon, and it'll be time to pack up. Until then, I flit around her, restocking the cases and setting the mixer for one more quick batch of cookies. I dump the green-colored butter into the batter and set the mixer to spin, the smell of the dough making my heart thump and my mouth water.

"Uh, Lorelei," Kailee mumbles. I turn to her and immediately freeze. Her brow is furrowed, and her usual smile is gone. She looks pale, and I instantly swipe the moneybox behind the oven. Kailee doesn't rattle easily, so something must be wrong.

"Just give him whatever he wants," I whisper, certain we're being robbed.

"Opposite problem. Officer McHottie is back." She jerks her head toward the window.

"McHottie?" a masculine voice scoffs at the front of the truck. "I'm here to talk to her. Tell her to step out of the truck."

I walk to the window, taking my apron off as I go. "Hi, Officer…I forgot your name." I didn't forget Officer Lane's name. I just don't want him to think that it's been on my mind since he snarled at me last week. I won't give him the satisfaction. He's here to make me feel small, and I'm going to beat him to it.

"Lane. Officer Lane," he says, flipping his badge out like I haven't seen it before. "Step out of the truck."

"I will when you tell me what this is about."

"Your permit is out of compliance."

I snort a little and cover my nose. "Officer Lane, my permit is six months old. It doesn't expire for another six months, and I assure you that it'll be renewed before the expiration date."

"No, Ms. Rogers." He smiles an evil grin.

"You found out my name. You must be a good detective," I say, leaning onto my elbows and propping my chin on my hands. I bat my eyes on purpose this time. "Amazing. Should I slow clap?"

"It's on your website. But your transportation permit should be within a foot of the window where customers can see it," he says, pointing.

I look at the permit in question. It sits at my right near the Square reader, the same position it was in the last time he was here. I silently point to it.

He opens a tape measure and puts the metal end of it against the window frame, stretching the tape measure to the framed permit as Kailee and I watch open-mouthed. "See, Ms. Rogers? One foot and a quarter inch. Clearly out of compliance. I need you to step out of the truck so I can write your ticket and give you the fine payment instruction," he says, releasing the tape measure with a clicking sound and a smirk.

Customers groan behind him and grumble something about donuts along with unflattering words about cops. Officer Lane ignores them. "You can't be serious," I deadpan.

"We can just move the permit closer," Kailee chimes in. "Here." She moves it a little to the right. "Measure again."

"I won't do that," he says, shaking his head.

"Why not?" I ask.

"I don't have to. You were out of compliance, and I'm fining you. One more fine, and I can take you to the station to process a bigger fine and make you appear in front of a judge to answer for why you're out of compliance. I can take you to the station now if you won't accept the fine."

I huff and grumble directions to Kailee. As soon as I head to the back of the truck, she's back to helping the customers like nothing's wrong. Fuck, I love her and her ability to sack up and keep going.

I open the back door to the truck like I'm ready to kick the door off the hinges. My nostrils flare as I jump down, but I immediately lament not dressing up for work today. Officer Lane strolls around, and my mouth opens without saying anything. I should have worn a sequined dress he couldn't take his eyes off of. Instead, I'm in faded jeans with holes at the knees, scuffed cowboy boots, and a simple off-the-shoulder t-shirt the same pink color as my truck. A hint of my white bra shows, and he squints at it.

He's taller than I thought. Maybe six and a half feet. His shoulders look wider when I'm below him. Not that I'm below him. Only looking up at him. But damn, I'd love to be below him and writhing in pleasure with my legs over those shoulders and biceps. I bet he's warm. Like a weighted blanket.

Even more surprising, his eyes are brown when he takes the aviators off. I make a "huh" sound and instantly bite my lip at his confused expression. I can't help but run my eyes the length of him. Strong legs. Strong arms. A perfect waist that probably has those gutter-like muscles on his sides above his groin. I can never remember what those are called, but they're the sexiest part of a man's body. I bet he'd moan my name if I licked him there.

Wait. What?

I clear my throat and blow out a breath. He puts his aviators back on, and I get the distinct feeling he does it only to check me out the way I'm checking him out. I should have grabbed my sunglasses before I left the truck so I could check him out and hide behind them.

He pulls out a ticket pad. "It's a fifty-dollar fine for the first offense. The second offense is a hundred dollars, but that's processed at the station. I'll take you in next time." He writes a few words on that pad, and I squint, standing on my tiptoes to see the ticket.

"Did you have this mostly filled out, Officer Lane?"

He pulls the pad up so I can't see it. "That's not your concern how I work."

"Because it looks like you already had my name and address filled in," I point to the top of the paper. "You just had to write in the offense. Is this entrapment? Did you come here looking for something specific or just whatever you could find?"

"That's not the way law enforcement works."

"You brought a tape measure."

"To make sure you were in compliance."

"Do you just carry tape measures around in your pants, Officer Lane?" I realize how it sounds as soon as the words leave my mouth. He stares at me, and I kick my boot below me, stirring up dust between us. He waves it away. "I meant to catch permit infractions. I didn't mean that you measure something else with them. I'm sure some guys do that, but I wasn't saying…You know what? I'll just shut the fuck up."

His face reddens. Did I embarrass him? Is he thinking about me measuring him with the tape measure? Because I totally am now.

"It's my job to make sure your licenses and permits are placed where they should be," he says in a husky voice.

I shake myself a little and square my shoulders. I need to get my shit together instead of drooling over a dickhead that's not here to flirt. "It's just interesting that Missouri has a serious meth problem, and you're here on a special mission to fine me for a paper being out of compliance a quarter of an inch."

His face reddens, and he flexes his jaw. All it does is make my panties wet. Fuck, he's gorgeous when irritated. "Are you resisting a fine?"

Why does his face look like he really wants me to resist? His chest heaves like he's trying to control panting of his own, and his hand flicks to his back pocket where he probably keeps his cuffs. His knuckles around the fine pad are white. Too bad I don't know if he wants me to resist the fine or resist him. He shifts his stance, and I don't look down, even though I have the sneaking suspicion that the crotch of his pants suddenly feels tight at the idea of me resisting him. That kind of guy, huh?

I can play along.

I arch my back and stick my C-cup tits out. I angle my face and reach up to twist my hair, letting it fall over my shoulder. He licks his lips before pointedly looking away from me. "I would never resist a big, strong man educating me on something I've done wrong. Where would a silly girl like me be without a man's correction? A man's guidance? Well, I'd be lost for sure. I'd drown in the danger of the real world," I drawl in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice.

His face reddens, and he nervously clicks his pen before looking at it like it just appeared in his hand. I move a few inches closer to him until I can smell his soap. Fuck, he uses woodsy soap. That's my weakness, and I need to be careful here or I'll drop to my knees and offer other ways to pay the fine.

"Stop being sarcastic, Ms. Rogers." He tears off the paper and hands it to me, careful to back up a few inches. "Pay your fine. If it's not paid in ten days, I'll be back."

I put my hands on my hips. "Why do I have a feeling you'll be back anyway?"

He turns and walks away without another word, shoving the ticket pad in his back pocket. He doesn't look back.

I look at the fine. Great. Fifty bucks I don't have. My business is booming, but the startup costs were high, and I'm just now breaking even and paying myself more than I pay Kailee. At least there's one good thing about the fine. His name is on the ticket.

Liam Lane.

I whisper his name, trying the words out as they roll over my tongue. Even his name makes my nipples hard, and my thighs reflexively rub together. It sounds like a superhero name or like he could be a dancer in Magic Mike.

He's an asshole, and I'm out fifty bucks for knowing him, but I like to watch him walk away.