Chapter 8

“Sure. Absolutely. It’s what I’m all about. Find the ugliest and meanest guy in the woods and put some moves on him,” he played back.

I gently punched him in the shoulder.

He grabbed the back of my right fist and kissed its dry, wintry skin. “Hey, that’s a felony assault charge on a police officer. Are you sure you want to play like that with me?”

“Only if I get to wear your handcuffs.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I became serious then. “Who was your last boyfriend? What was his name? What did he do for a living? How long did you go out with him? And why did your relationship with the guy end?”

“Damn,” he said. “That’s a lot of questions.”

“Just getting to know you, Officer Noah Rexington. I want to know a little more about the guy who intends to put the moves on me, with or without his handcuffs.”

“Fair enough,” he said.

He told me about his ex-boyfriend: Ash Oliver, a mechanic from Gainersville, a sister town to Channing. Ash had turned thirty when Noah met the guy.