Chapter One

A l ex ground his teeth as he watched three guys and a girl get out of a silver Lexus by the pumps then toss their trash onto the ground. He'd just finished cleaning up the parking lot not twenty minutes prior, putting in hard work to make sure Bigman Gas Station looked presentable. But now there was trash scattered around, as if he hadn't done any work at all.

The driver shoved the nozzle into the tank, joined by the girl a moment later. Leaning into each other at the rear of the car, the couple started making out like the parking lot was their private bedroom.

The other two were heading toward the store, laughing and playfully bumping into each other, looking like rowdy teenagers. Alex watched them warily, hoping they wouldn't cause any problems.

There wasn't a lot of traffic at two in the morning. The last customer was half an hour ago. Alex didn't particularly enjoy working third shift. In the dead of night, it always made him feel like the gas station was on a desolate road in the middle of nowhere, the nearest hint of civilization a hundred miles away.

The automatic sliding glass doors swished open as the pair walked in, their voices drowning out the music playing from the speakers in the ceiling.

One headed toward the cooler, while the other browsed through one of the snack aisles. Alex tried to appear disinterested but secretly kept an eye on both of them.

The blond at the cooler, who looked like he could have been prom king, had one hand braced against the next fridge over, the other holding on to the handle as the cold air escaped.

Alex had encountered their type before. They lived on the upscale side of Midnight Falls and were privileged, treating hardworking people like himself as if they were beneath them.

The blond sauntered confidently toward Alex then dropped a twenty-four pack of canned beer onto the counter. With a flick of his wrist, he said, "Give me a pack of spearmint gum. It doesn't matter what brand."

Somebody hasn't heard of the word please. Retrieving the gum, Alex set it on the counter. "I need to see some ID."

It would be shocking if Mr. Prom King was old enough to buy alcohol, let alone vote. The guy would probably whip out a fake ID, which Alex was pretty good at spotting.

"Hey, Chase. He wants some ID," the blond called out to his friend, his arm hanging over the case of beer as if to protect it from Alex.

Chase didn't even look up from browsing before responding nonchalantly, "Hold on, Mike. I'm still deciding."

Alex remembered his boss, Gary, warning him about the previous employee getting arrested for selling alcohol to minors. This guy was definitely not worth losing his job or facing legal consequences. "I'll still need to see both of your IDs since you're together," he stated firmly.

Mike's lip curled. "Are you serious? As long as someone shows you an ID, it doesn't matter who it is."

This prick was not worth Alex's job or getting arrested. "If he buys it, he's furnishing a minor with alcohol. And since I'm ringing up the sale, I could get in trouble too."

"'I'm not a fucking minor," Mike argued indignantly. "I just forgot my ID at home."

Alex wanted to cuss out the arrogant prick, but since there were two of them, and he couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag, he gritted his teeth and kept his choice words to himself.

The doors swished open, and the guy who'd been pumping gas walked in, his girlfriend now sitting in the front seat of the car. He stopped just inside the door and asked, "Dudes, what's taking so long?"

It was still uncertain whether or not they were underaged. Chase could have easily presented a fake ID. However, the newcomer appeared to be in his early twenties, not much older than that but definitely older than the other two.

"Because this prick won't sell us the beer without seeing my ID," Mike complained, jerking his head toward Alex.

And you're acting like a tantrum-throwing toddler. He'd been right. Privileged and condescending. Mike had probably never been denied anything in his spoon-fed life.

The third guy let out an exasperated groan and pulled out his own wallet. "I'll just show him mine."

"He says he can't do that." Then Mike used a high-pitched falsetto to explain why, clearly trying to imitate Alex's voice but doing a piss-poor job of it.

"Damn it, Mike. They're counting on us to bring more beer." The guy was clearly irritated. "Why in the hell did you leave your driver's license at home?"

"I was rushing out before my dad got back," Mike defended heatedly. "If he'd seen me leaving, he would have crawled all in my ass. Fix this shit, Chadwick."

Chadwick walked over to the counter, lightly shoving Mike out of the way. He rested his arms on top of the case of beer and smiled.

From the corner of his eye, Alex saw Chase heading their way, a gummy worm dangling from his mouth, the open bag in his hand.

All three men now stood in front of the counter. Alex breathed out slowly, trying to calm his racing heart.

Mike stood there glaring daggers at Alex, while Chase appeared bored as he yanked the gummy worm out of his mouth and chewed.

Chase calmly stared at him as he yanked the gummy worm out of his mouth and chewed.

Chadwick smoothed his hand over the top of the case, his smile just as phony as his charm. "You seem like a reasonable guy…" He glanced at the nametag on Alex's red work shirt. "Alex. How about I slip you a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill and you turn a blind eye? An eighty-dollar tip isn't bad for forgetting we were even here."

Digging the money from his wallet, Chadwick held the bill up between two fingers with a look that said, "You know you need the money. Go ahead, you working class bum. I won't tell a soul."

Raising his index finger, Alex silently pointed to the security cameras positioned above the counter.

Mike's icy-blue glare intensified. If looks could put someone in a full body cast, Alex would already be sipping through a straw.

"Let's just go." Chase, on the other hand, seemed nonchalant about the situation as he dangled another gummy worm between his lips.

Storming over to the counter, Mike pushed Chadwick aside, pocketed the money,, then grabbed the beer. "Screw your tip."

"What're you doing?" Chase asked in a curious, yet calm tone.

"We don't have time for this," Mike snapped. "Since Alex wants to be a dick, he can pay out of pocket for the beer himself."

"You can't do that!" Alex stopped himself from running around the counter and confronting three lean, ripped jackasses who would probably give him a beatdown.

Mike would definitely jump on the opportunity.

"Just put it back and let him keep the money." Chase rolled his eyes. He dug into his front pocket then put a ten-dollar bill on the counter. "For my worms," he said to Alex. "Keep the change."

Alex just wanted them to leave, especially Mike, who was nothing more than a spoiled, thieving brat.

And possibly dangerous.

He headed for the door with the case of beer gripped in his hand. Chase and Chadwick took a step to follow, but all three stopped when two burly deputies walked inside, their sudden presence filling the store and adding to the tension.

They were chatting between themselves, unaware of the situation they'd just walked into. The entire incident should be the only thing Alex was focused on. Mike hadn't held him at gunpoint and robbed the store, but that didn't make things any less scary.

Yet, the only thing Alex could focus was the enormous deputy with dark brown hair.

Only one word came to mind. Dreamboat.

"Shit," Chase muttered under his breath.

Dreamboat paused midsentence and looked directly at the three, as if he'd somehow heard Chase's muttered curse.

But that couldn't be possible, considering Alex had barely heard it, and Chase was standing closer to the counter than to the door. There were other noises as well, like the faint music still playing from the overhead speakers and the whir of the slushy machine. It was strange how, despite everyone falling silent, the store suddenly seemed unusually loud.

"Evening, gentlemen," Dreamboat said in a velvety smooth voice that made Alex's heart skip a beat. He might not know the guy's real name, but he couldn't deny the attractive pull of his muscled body and chiseled jawline framed by a subtle stubble.

Alex wanted to shout that Mike and his buddies had just swiped the beer without paying or showing ID, but he remained silent. They knew where to find him. Working night shift made Alex an easy target, and he didn't want to risk any of them coming back later for a "visit."

"Mind showing some ID for the beer?" the other deputy with the tattoo sleeves asked, his tone just as polite as his partner's, yet the tension in the store grew thicker with each passing second.

"We just showed the clerk." Mike stated with a hint of arrogance. This was the worst possible time for his entitlement to surface.

Dumbass.

Dreamboat focused his bluish-green gaze on Alex. It felt like an intense moment passed between them, as if he were silently asking if Mike's claim was true. When Alex didn't confirm or deny, the deputy turned his attention back to the three.

Alex wasn't sure if the quick beat of his heart was from the situation or from the cop's attention on him.

"You heard my partner," he said, his hands resting on his utility belt.

Chase and Chadwick pulled out theirs. As they handed them over, Mike dropped the case and tried to make a run for it, but the sliding doors opened too slowly. Alex jumped and covered his mouth when Mike bounced off the glass with a loud thump and hit the floor.

Chadwick burst out laughing. "That was priceless! You bounced off of it like it was a springboard."

Chase was grinning, a gummy worm stuck between his perfect, white teeth, but didn't comment.

"Do you need medical attention?" Tattoo Sleeves asked as he knelt his hulking body next to Mike, who was rubbing his forehead.

"I want my fucking lawyer!" Mike pushed from the floor. When Tattoo Sleeves tried to help him up, Mike jerked his arm away. "Get your hands off me."

"I'm here to help you," the deputy stated calmly. "We can talk this out. Just tell me what would make things better for you."

Mike let out a bitter laugh as he shook his head slowly. "Go screw yourself."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," the deputy replied in a relaxed tone. "This situation isn't as serious as it may seem. It was a minor theft."

"We offered to pay for the fucking beer," Mike snarled. "Ask the prick behind the counter. We offered to pay an eighty-dollar tip for a better haircut." He spat on the floor.

Alex took offense to that snide remark considering his mom was a hairdresser at the salon and had been the only one to ever cut his hair. He'd let her color his hair a few times in the past, but at the moment, it was his natural sandy blond with touches of dark brown highlights. Plus, his mom had taught him how to style it.

Mike needed to take that eighty dollars and buy himself a better attitude.

The deputy turned Mike around and cuffed him. "This is for everyone's safety."

"You'll regret this," Mike said through gritted teeth.

"Are you making a threat against a police officer?" he asked.

"Dude, know when to keep your mouth shut," Chase advised, taking a bite of the worm.

Alex agreed. Though he wanted to see the footage from the security cameras to watch Mike hit the doors again.

Tattoo Sleeves carefully lowered Mike to the floor so he could sit. Then he talked softly to him, but it was clear Mike didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

The deputy stood then began talking with Chadwick and Chase, while Dreamboat headed Alex's way.

Turning around, Alex did a quick breath check, relieved it didn't smell like the beef jerky he'd eaten an hour ago.

"How're you doing?" he asked as he rounded the counter, crowding Alex's already cramped space.

Alex looked at the nametag on his shirt. "I'm doing okay, Deputy Kingsman."

He would still be Dreamboat to Alex.

"Can you fill me in on what happened?" The deputy's charming smile threatened to take Alex's breath away, especially under the weight of those piercing eyes and perfectly shaped lips.

Would Deputy Kingsman arrest him if he squeezed those impressive guns? And not the one in his holster…

"What if I tell you and they come back to harass me?" It was a legit concern. The other two were borderline, but Mike definitely seemed the vengeful type.

Seriously. Working the night shift with very little foot traffic left him vulnerable, especially to a hot-headed brat like Mike who might show up to "thank" him for cooperating with the police.

It might be Alex bouncing off the door next time.

Alex jerked his head back when he thought he heard a soft purr, but he brushed it off as stress getting to him.

"Does the owner keep a weapon under the counter?"

"A weapon? Like a gun" He'd heard many stores kept guns under their counters for protection, but luckily Gary didn't have one. Guns scared Alex. "No, I don't. And even if there was one under the counter, I would probably end up shooting myself rather than hitting a target."

Deputy Kingsman gave a firm nod. "I know this store is equipped with a panic alarm. You can press that if he comes back, and we'll be here in no time."

Crap. Alex had been so busy panicking that he'd forgotten about the panic alarm. But to be fair to himself, Gary had only mentioned it once, and with so many other things to remember, it had slipped his mind.

Deep inhale. Deep exhale.

"The guy you handcuffed, Mike—"

"Do you know him?" Deputy Kingsman furrowed his brows.

"No. I overheard his friend say his name." Even if they were on the same social level, Alex would never associate with a tantrum-throwing bully.

"Okay, go on," the deputy said encouragingly.

"Right." Now Alex had Dreamboat's undivided attention, which was a little intimidating. To ease his nerves, he focused on the stubble lining Deputy Kingsman's jaw and upper lip. Or maybe just those soft lips, which were distracting to his concentration.

Taking a deep breath, Alex launched into a detailed account of everything that had happened from the moment Mike and Chase entered the store until the unexpected arrival of the deputies.

"Perfect timing." A smirk tugged at the side of Dreamboat's mouth. "You did the right thing by refusing the sale and remaining calm under pressure."

Despite his initial urge to freak out, he'd handled the situation well. Dreamboat had said so. "Can I confess something?" he whispered, feeling a sense of trust with the guy for some reason.

The deputy's smile grew wider as he teased, "Do I need to advise you of your rights first?"

"Does desperately wishing to do Mike bodily harm count?"

Dreamboat's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Not if you only confess it to me."

Covertly, Alex leaned in just a tad closer and caught a whiff of Deputy Kingsman's enticing scent. "Then I wish I knew how to fight so I could have knocked him on his spoiled butt."

"We could fix that." He crossed his brawny arms over his chest and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "If you're willing to learn, I'm willing to teach."

"I'm not exactly built for fighting." Alex looked down at his slender frame and shook his head. "My lack of biceps alone should tell you a bag of sugar could probably take me down."

Deputy Kingsman's gaze traveled down Alex's body, taking in every inch of his frame, then swept back up before their eyes met. A sudden flutter erupted in the pit of Alex's stomach. "We can work on building your muscle tone and strength."

After that intense exploration, a different kind of sweaty workout flashed through Alex's mind. He gestured toward Dreamboat's bullish body. "Will I end up as big as you?"

That side-of-the-mouth smile returned. "This is home grown."

A rush of heat spread across Alex's face. Whatever home that body was grown in needed to be enshrined.

Flexing one of his biceps, Dreamboat caused Alex to squeak in surprise. The deputy chuckled, clearly amused by his reaction. "I have to assist my partner, but we'll exchange numbers afterward and set up our first training session."

Alex had no idea what the training session would entail, but if it meant spending time with Deputy Kingsman, he was all for it.

And of course learning how to defend himself.

"By the way," the deputy said before he rounded the counter, "call me Slater."

"Alex," he replied as if Slater couldn't read his nametag. Gary had printed the letters so large that even astronauts in space could probably read them.

As soon as Slater was out of sight, Alex quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his boss's number. It rang for what seemed like an eternity before a groggy voice answered on the other end.

"Yeah?" Gary groaned. "Everything all right, Alex? What time is it?"

"It's nearly three in the morning, and no, everything is not okay," Alex replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

Gary let out a heavy sigh, his voice thick with sleep. "What happened?"

Giving a condensed version, he told his boss what had taken place.

"It's petty theft, and someone needs their ass kicked." Gary yawned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Alex assured him. "They were intimidating, but there was no physical altercation."

"I'm glad you weren't hurt." Gary yawned again. "Do you need me to come in?"

Gary usually arrived every morning at seven, but Alex didn't want to disturb his sleep by dragging him out of bed four hours early. Plus, the police were already handling it. "No, go back to bed. I just wanted to make you aware of what happened."

"I'll see you when I get there." Gary yawned for the third time. "By the way, if you ever have a gut feeling something isn't right, don't hesitate to lock the doors until things calm down. Your safety is more important than losing some customers," he said before he hung up.

Setting his phone down, Alex was touched by his boss's concern. During his job interview, he'd sensed Gary was a good guy. And now he was grateful to see it was true.

"Silence!" The swift sharp command drew Alex's attention to the sliding glass doors. Standing there, with a stance that exuded authority and power, was an older version of Mike. Even in his casual attire, he radiated ten times more control than his son.

Mike was no longer sitting on the floor, but he remained handcuffed and stood with his lips pressed tightly together, avoiding any eye contact with his father.

Chadwick and Chase were nowhere in sight.

"If you release Michael into my custody," the older man spoke firmly, "I assure you he will be dealt with properly."

Slater shook his head. "That decision is not mine to make."

"Then who has the authority to decide?" dripping with condescension and arrogance, mirroring the same unpleasant demeanor Alex had seen in Mike.

It was clear now where Mike had inherited his superior disposition from. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Only, the superior look on the father's face could have halted a charging bull in its tracks. If Mike hadn't been a complete dick to Alex, he might have felt sorry for him being raised by such a dictatorial parent.

But that didn't excuse Mike's reprehensible behavior toward others. He had belittled and humiliated Alex, looking down on him as if he were nothing.

Like Alex had, Mike could have chosen a different path instead of blindly following in his father's footsteps.

"The authority to decide rests with Sheriff Harper," Slater replied evenly, his hands resting on his utility belt as if it were their natural place. Then again, the other deputy mimicked the same stance.

"Then call the sheriff so I can take custody of my son." He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. "I want him here immediately. And remind him how much I contribute to this town."

What. An. Asshole. How could someone be so full of themselves?

Slater calmly pulled out his cell phone from the pocket of his neatly pressed uniform. Alex couldn't detect a trace of irritation from his expression, but the guy had to be simmering beneath the surface.

Thirty minutes passed before the glass door slid open. In walked a man the size of a freaking bear, dwarfing everything around him. Alex stared in awe at the sheer size and strength of him. He must have been at least three hundred pounds of solid, bulging muscle.

Alex had never seen someone that massive before. Despite only living in Midnight Falls for a short while, he was confident this hulking figure was the sheriff in civilian clothing. He stood just as tall as Slater and the other deputy, who Alex guessed to be around six-five. But they paled in comparison to the sheriff's formidable frame.

"I demand that my son be released into my custody."

The sheriff made no attempt to hide his annoyance as he stared at Mike's father, like he was silently calculating how many pressure points it would take to render the pompous jerk unconscious.

Alex found himself wondering the same thing. The dude was giving him a flipping headache.

"While I am aware of your generous contributions to our town, Mr. Fiago," he said, slowly and deliberately, "your son still broke the law."

"It was a lousy case of beer," Mr. Fiago ground out between clenched teeth. "My contributions pay for your entire department's salary."

The only lesson Mr. Fiago seemed to be teaching his son was how to buy his way out of trouble. Not exactly a great moral example for a parent.

"I'm afraid that's not true," the sheriff replied calmly. "Your contributions actually go toward supporting our local schools with vital resources such as computers, athletic equipment, and school-related trips. I'm sure such an upstanding citizen as yourself wouldn't dream of withdrawing your donations just because you disagree with my decision."

Alex observed silently from his position behind the counter, admiring the fact the sheriff wouldn't be intimidated or compromise his ethics.

"You're a devoted father who cares about his son," the sheriff continued. "One who wants his son to take responsibility for his actions and learn from them by facing the consequences."

Alex completely agreed with the man.

Mr. Fiago studied the sheriff then nodded. "Let him learn his lesson."

"Dad!"

Mike's father walked out without a backward glance.