She tapped on the bar, and the bartender brought her another. This was her second and her last. It wouldn’t do for her to get picked up for driving while under the influence. Yeah, that would not go over well with her boss.

Around her, people laughed and danced and flirted. She was among them yet set apart, both by her job and her natural disposition. Vinnie was quiet, kept to herself, and took pride in her job. There wasn’t time for much else. As a young woman in the sheriff’s department, she was aware there were people waiting for her to screw up and fail. Wasn’t fair, but then again, no one ever said life was.

The door opened. Instinct and training had her glancing over. Interest made her take a second look. The newcomer was a stranger. She’d lived in Kingman Creek her entire life and would have remembered this man if she’d seen him before.

Six-five and about two-sixty, to her estimation, with shaggy brown hair and a thick beard, he paused inside the door and scanned the room. He was dressed the same as most of the other men in boots, jeans, and a t-shirt, but the similarities ended there. The seams of his black shirt were stretched tight over broad shoulders, huge biceps, and muscled abs. The well-worn fabric of his jeans molded to thick thighs.

His gaze slid past her but jerked back, their gazes colliding. The air around her seemed to sizzle. He ambled across the room and slid onto a stool two down from where she sat. Up close, he seemed even larger, radiating a menace that had her turning slightly to keep him in full view. It wasn’t anything he’d done, but instinct warned he could be trouble.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Bourbon.”

Vinnie’s breath caught in her throat. The deep sound of his voice vibrated through her entire body. What is wrong with me? She’d dated over the years, had one serious relationship that had ended when she’d decided to make law enforcement her career, but never had she experienced such an immediate and visceral reaction to a man.

When the bourbon was placed in front of him, he dropped some money on the bar and wrapped his fingers around the glass. His wrists were thick, his forearms covered in a light dusting of dark hair and roped with veins and muscle. His hands were huge.

All the better to touch you with.

She forced herself to take a breath. It was time to go home. Her mood had flipped from dark and disheartened to sexual arousal in a heartbeat. Yet she lingered, sipping her beer.

Minutes passed and the stranger continued to stare at the amber liquid. “You gonna drink that or just look at it?” She wanted to call back the question almost as soon as it left her lips. “Forget it. None of my business.” She couldn’t blame the alcohol for making her chatty. Something about him aroused her curiosity.

“Trying to decide.”

She swallowed a moan as his voice slid through her like the heat from a shot of whiskey. When he turned the full force of his gaze on her, she barely kept from looking away. Eyes as cold and black as midnight captured her.

The music continued to blare, people laughed and talked, almost shouting to be heard above the noise, but his presence somehow muted it, driving it into the background. His nostrils flared and the intensity surrounding him ratcheted up a notch. He ran his finger up and down the side of the glass, the gesture mesmerizing. Lifting the bourbon, he downed it all in one swallow, set the glass on the bar, gave her a nod, rose, and left. When the door closed behind him, she took her first full breath since he’d entered. The noise came roaring back, as did her headache. Done for the night, she shoved away her almost full beer, gave the bartender a wave, and headed out.

Sleep would be a long time coming tonight, if it came at all, but drinking alone in a bar wasn’t helping either. The soles of her boots crunched against the gravel as she crossed the parking lot. A large black truck was parked alongside her car. It wasn’t the vehicle that caught her attention but the man leaning against it.

Her hand automatically went to her waist. She silently swore when she remembered her weapon was at home, along with her uniform. She was off duty until the day after tomorrow.

The stranger continued to watch, doing nothing threatening, but she couldn’t shake the sensation of being hunted. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you.”

She took a step back and glanced over her shoulder. There was no one else around. The music was so loud it was unlikely anyone would hear if she screamed.

He straightened and sighed. “You seemed interested in the bar. If I misread the signals, I apologize. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her spine snapped straight and her chin tilted up—her default when her courage was called into question. “I’m not afraid of you. You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Passing through. Spending the night at the motel down the road.” He pushed away from his truck and ambled toward her, stopping a short distance away. “I’d love company if you’re interested. No strings attached.”

“Pretty sure of yourself.” The man wasn’t lacking in confidence or audacity. “Does this approach usually work?”