Juli Falzone is stuck at home for her thirtieth birthday after the TSA puts her on the no-fly list…until her doorbell rings and she finds two hot cops standing on her porch with a warrant for her arrest. Are they a practical joke from her well-meaning friends, the best birthday gift ever, or has her identity been stolen? Wanting answers and maybe a little more than curious, she lets them in. Can she talk her way out of the situation or will they make her come along peacefully?
“No, sweetie. I’ve got to go. But I did send you a little gift. Enjoy.” Dara hung up.
Juli held the phone out, staring at it, bewildered by the abrupt brush-off.
Another knock brought her to her senses.
When she opened the door, phone still in hand, a summer breeze blew along her skin. Two police officers, completely opposite in appearance, stood on her stoop, stone-faced serious. The taller, darker cop had a white-knuckled grip on his nightstick. The other, shorter and fairer of hair and complexion, wore a pair of intimidating, mirrored sunglasses despite the darkness.
The taller officer cleared his throat. “Ms. Falzone?”
“May we come in?” the shorter—just shy of six feet—blond man asked.
Her instincts said, no, don’t let them in. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, and they were peace officers. Maybe a crazed killer ran loose in the area, and they wanted to search her backyard, secure her locks and ensure her safety. But after the harrowing day she’d spent at the airport that morning, she was a quart low on trust, dubious of authority figures, and testy in general.
Oh, what the hell.
She opened the door wider, looking past them to the curb. “Sure.” A streetlight shone bright on a sedan. No other cops appeared to be canvassing the neighborhood. The uniformed duo filed in, but she wasn’t in the mood to make a pot of coffee or answer a bunch of inane questions. She’d filled her quota for the day.
“What’s this about?” She closed the door.
“We have a warrant.” The tall man whipped out a tri-folded piece of paper like he meant business.
She scoffed. “A warrant. For what?” She put on her tough girl act, but had visions of spending life in prison. “I haven’t done anything wrong.” Ever. Someone must have stolen her identity. First the no-fly list, now this.
The blond whipped off his shades, treating her to sky blue eyes. “Haven’t you?”
Dara always encouraged her to take a walk on the wild side. But every potential one-night stand date had struck her as a prospective serial killer or would-be stalker. She didn’t want to have regrets for living a boring life, but she’d seen too many friends, family members and co-workers make tragic mistakes in judgment. Unplanned pregnancies. Bad marriages. Worse divorces. Bankruptcies. She avoided all of the above.
“What’s the charge?”
Officer Tall-Dark-and-Handsome’s upper lip quirked. “The charge is being too sexy to be thirty.”