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  The Officer

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2021 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

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  Also by Kelli Callahan

  Chapter One

  Lucy

  God, my feet are killing me. I stand on sore legs, stretching my arms up to the sky. It's another beautiful morning in Oak Valley, Wyoming. Oak Valley is a nice place to live, though it's definitely a small town. I'm Lucy Knight, a recent high school graduate, younger sister to Abigail Knight, and the notorious Noah Knight's youngest daughter.

  Today is Friday, which means I am prepared to jog the next five blocks to the convenience store where I work. Abigail, my older and now engaged sister, may have struck gold with the sexy professor, coming into a boatload of money. But I am not so lucky. Even if I had been the one to snag the sexy brainiac, I still would've gotten the lame ass job at the convenience store. I like working for my own things, buying what I want when I want, and not having to answer to anyone. I'm not too fond of shortcuts, and while my father may be a notable criminal in our town, I have been very careful to stay on the right side of the law. Mostly because I've been admiring a very handsome older man who is leaps and bounds out of my league by age alone, but that hasn't stopped me from fantasizing about him.

  I may be an eighteen-year-old virgin, but a girl can dream, can't she? And the dreams I have had about him. "Hot" doesn't even begin to cover it. Stretching my limber legs one last time, I jog towards the convenience store, imagining the way Chief Traverse strides around town, his sunny blonde hair neatly trimmed, his blue eyes dazzling. I wonder if he knows how incredibly sexy he is? I don't think he's aware, but that’s part of the appeal? It's subtly sexy, the way some men just don't know how disarming they are.

  Looking both ways before crossing, I jog toward a little convenience store, lovingly referred to as Annie's corner.

  "Good morning!" I call to the ever-cranky Annie Andrews.

  The woman mans that counter like a bulldog on guard duty. I have worked here for a couple of weeks and have yet to see her leave her post. You would think she’s expecting the mayor to stroll right in and ask for a pack of smokes, not that it is likely to happen.

  I let myself behind the counter and tug on my smock that reads "Lucy" in fancy cursive letters. It doesn't fit me well. It hangs long and baggy around my slim frame. I won't win any fashion contests, but that's okay. I don't like any of the guys in town, and the odds of that one man walking in are pretty slim. I think Chief Traverse is avoiding me.

  Speaking of avoiding me, Annie still hasn't responded to my chipper greeting. Turning to smile at her now, I can't help but stare at the frazzled redhead. I don't think Annie likes me, but I’m growing on her, I can tell, I think with some amusement as I stroll over, wrapping an arm around one of her broad masculine shoulders.

  "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, why are you always so damn chipper?" she barks. If I’m being completely honest, it’s as more of a challenge at this point. She will like me one day; I will make sure of it.

  "Oh, Annie, it's because I have you in my life!" I grin at her, flashing her one of my best "love me now" looks that always works on my dad.

  "Oh, God," she mutters, shoving me off, "go make yourself useful, girl," She orders, "there's plenty of work for you down there on aisle two."

  "Anything for you, Annie," I call sweetly as I stroll toward the aisle. I can feel her eyes on me, and I can't help but grin. Maybe it was passive-aggressive of me, but frankly, I don't give a rat's ass. I get my kicks in (and my laughs) in any way I can. I'm the kind of girl who likes to take life by the horns, to seize the moment, blah blah blah, you get the idea.

  Bending over as I stack the many boxes of granola, I hear the door ding behind me, signaling that a customer has entered the building. Not bothering to turn, I continue to stack revolting flavors such as apple cinnamon and pumpkin spice onto the worn aisles' shelves.

  Geez, I groan to myself, how does anyone stand these flavors. What was Annie thinking? It's summer; pumpkin spice is for basic bitches named Brittany who have nothing better to do on a fall day than actively live out American clichés.

  "Ehem." I hear a voice behind me and a throat clearing.

  Slowly rising and turning, I find myself smack face to face with the very man I've been fantasizing about since I was sixteen years old. God, get a look at him, I think, trying to force myself to look at his eyes and not let my eyes wander anywhere else. I desperately want to let them roam, to take in the delicious sight of him.

  "Can I help you?" I ask, giving the Chief my best smile and loving how his full mouth lays in a hard line.

  It’s the perfect shape. I wonder how it would feel crushed against mine.

  "I need you to move," he says roughly, not sparing me a smile in return. The phrase "hard ass with a good ass" comes to mind as I beam up at him.

  "Why, anything for you, officer," I reply with my best southern twang. Stepping aside and gesturing broadly with my slim arms. He only stares at me for a moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not to smile at me or arrest me. I wouldn't mind him using those cuffs on me.

  Finally, Sheriff Traverse's mouth twitches in amusement.

  "Thank you," he says, watching me for a moment longer before stepping forward and grabbing a revolting box of granola.

  Well, I guess no man can be perfect.

  "Shouldn't you be in school, Miss Knight?" he asks, his voice rough with concern which has me suppressing a giggle.

  "How old do you think I am?" I reply, giving him my sassiest look and crossing my arms. I can't help but smile at him. He's clearly trying to put me in my place, and it's definitely not working.

  He turns suddenly, contemplating me, a challenge in his eyes.

  "I don't know, Miss Knight," he says coolly. "How old are you?" His strong brow now arched in a sexy challenge.

  God, I am a sucker for strong, brooding men.

  "I'm eighteen. Legal in case you're wondering." I reply, winking at him. I can't help but grin as I watch his face falter in surprise— the smug jerk.

  "You weren't expecting that were you?" I challenge him, proud of myself for my attempt at witty banter.

  "No, I wasn't," he whispers, his voice soft, as if he’s fighting for it to return. "Excuse me," he says, nodding his head in a farewell to me.

  God, I love that man, I think to myself, enjoying the way his pants hug his ass as he strolls toward the ever-sullen Annie.

  Sighing heavily, I turn back to the aisles and begin stacking the empty containers.

  Something has the hair on my neck standing as I hear the bell ding, signaling the departure of another happy customer. Turning slowly, I glance over my shoulder. There he is in all his glory, sunlight streaming and glinting off his golden hair. Kenton is watching me too. Isn't that something. The memory of his handsome face, watching me with longing, will stay with me forever.

  His blue eyes widen as he sees me looking his way, recognizing that I’m aware of his lingeri
ng gaze. His lips part in surprise as he holds my gaze a moment longer, pinning me in place. After a long moment, he turns and steps off the pavement, ducking into his police cruiser.

  Well, isn't that interesting. Perfect Sheriff Kenton Traverse is lusting after a young woman twenty years his junior. God, do I love a good sexy age-gap romance. Now that I have his attention, the only question remains: Who should make the first move?

  Chapter Two

  Kenton

  What the hell am I thinking? Lucy Knight is essentially untouchable. Hell, she went to school with my daughter. She was in high school just a couple of months ago. That's weird, right? Scratching my jaw as I drive down the main street. She sure has grown into a fine woman, though. I haven't seen her in a little while. Not since the weather got cold. I have done my best to avoid her after I realized I was developing feelings for her.

  I didn't want to be a creep. She is friends with Charlie, so of course, she came over and had sleepover parties and pool parties at the house. I remember one night last summer in particular. Lucy had walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. I was awake cleaning my gun at the table. She wore only a thin cotton track tee shirt and tiny running shorts.

  She was seventeen, long and lean, and her legs had a nice glow from summer training. She must have noticed me noticing her because she looked at me with those big soft brown eyes when she turned from the sink. It was a knowing look, a womanly look. I quickly turned away and focused on my gun, not bothering to talk to her. She had no shame, though, she never did. She walked straight up to the table, sat next to me, and allowed one of her lean legs to rest against my thigh.

  I stiffened in automatic response. Lucy was barely more than a child, despite the womanly shape of her.

  "What are you doing, Chief?" she asked, her voice low and surprisingly sexy.

  "Cleaning," I said shortly. I didn't want to be blatantly rude, but I'd be damned if I was going to encourage things with her.

  "You have nice hands," she said, her eyes watching the way I competently disassembled and cleaned my weapon. "They're long. Confident. I like that," she said simply, then rose from the table and looked back at me from behind the long curtain of brown hair.

  From that night on, I did my best to avoid her. I couldn't risk these feelings while she was a minor, and now that she's eighteen, I don't feel I can act on them now either.

  If I'm honest with myself, I didn't even realize that it was Lucy. I didn't know she works at the convenience store, and if I did, I would surely have waited until she’s off.

  When I saw her bent over sorting through boxes, I thought it was some new girl in town, just working for the summer. I had taken the time to admire the long legs and the shape of the firm ass. I had even, just for a moment, imagined yanking those hips against me, and driving myself into the woman. If I had known it was Lucy, I would never have taken the time to admire her firm backside. Would I?

  Who am I kidding? I have to think about her. She’s inside my head. She really is incredible to look at. Her long brown hair is always glossy and thick, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to take it firmly and clutch a handful of it as I yank her against me in a sizzling kiss that would leave her weak, breathless, and pliable against me. Under me. I can feel myself growing hard at the thought.

  It's those large soft brown eyes, though, that get to me. They leave me with feelings of desire that I haven't felt in quite some time. Honestly, I haven't felt anything for anyone since my divorce. I haven't really taken the time to look around town; instead, I choose to focus on my career and my wonderful daughter Charlie. Thinking of Charlie always makes me smile; the image of her face has me relaxing. Although she’s a woman now, she will forever be my little girl. There it is again, little girl.

  How can I think of a girl two years younger than my own daughter as sexy and alluring? Oh God. What would Charlie think if she found out? What would the people in town say? This is all the more reason I should put my thoughts of Lucy Knight out of my mind. No good can come of it. For chrissake, just a couple of months ago, she was jailbait. The concept of jailbait has me laughing and shaking my head as I park my police cruiser.

  Oh, boy, am I in trouble, I think as I walk up the concrete steps to the sheriff's department.

  I will need to find a way to get her out of my mind. Maybe Chelsea is right; perhaps it’s time for me to start dating. If I can find someone my own age, then I will think less about the alluring young woman in tight denim.

  "Good morning, Chief," calls a familiar voice from behind a desk.

  "Good morning, Sergeant," I say with a nod.

  Sergeant Fleming is my right-hand man and my most trusted person on the force. Fleming and I go way back to our days at the Academy.

  Honestly, I don't know what I would do without him. Though that is something, I will never share. I am a private man and prefer solitude to social events, reading to dates, hiking to parties. If I'm not patrolling the city that I love, you can find me fishing in the river.

  You know what, forget finding a woman my own age, I'm just gonna go fishing.

  Walking back to my office, I notice the worn leather chair. The chair has been in the department for decades and has been used by myself, my father before me, and my great-uncle before that. Being a police officer is in my blood, and my family lives and breathes the blue-collar lifestyle. Traverse men pride themselves on loyalty, dedication, and justice. After all, those are the words on the family crest—loyalty, dedication, justice.

  Would I be violating those heavy words if I allow my thoughts to wander to a younger, more vulnerable woman?

  Sighing heavily to myself, I begin to pace my little office. Who am I kidding? Fishing won’t get Lucy out of my head. Nothing will, except having her in my bed. God, I want her in my bed. Just the words "Lucy" and "bed" had me feeling weak and then hard with desire.

  There have been so many times that I have imagined her in my bed. It shames me to admit it, even to myself, but the night she sat next to me at the table, I wasn't able to push those thoughts aside. I went straight to my room and stood under a cold shower, hoping it would dull the ache that she stirred within me. It did nothing, though, I remember now, closing my eyes to relive the memory.

  Looking down in the shower, the cold water pouring down my lean body. It did nothing to soothe the aching in my loins. I was still erect and rock-hard for her. Sliding my hands down my abdomen to my shaft, I closed my eyes in pleasure, imagining the hand around it was hers. It was her body I imagined before me in the shower. I imagined lifting her and wrapping those silky legs around my hips as I drove into her, pushing her hard against the cold shower wall. She'd cry out, I know she would. She’s a virgin, and I want to be her first. I relished the sensation around my cock, I began moving harder and faster, imaging the way her eyes would darken in surprise, shock, and pleasure. I'd feast on those cool hard breasts, her nipples hard against my lips as I thrust into her, causing those firm breasts to bounce against me. I would take her, consume her, and she would be mine. I all but collapsed against the shower wall at the glorious release.

  Ugh, and then the feeling of shame and self-loathing had sunk in as I cleaned up the mess on the shower floor. I told myself that the most significant contributor to the feeling was that I had masturbated to the thought of a minor.

  She isn't a minor now. is it still wrong, though? I wonder to myself at the age gap, shaking my head. She's twenty years younger and most likely a virgin.

  If I were anyone else, not an officer of the law, maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal. Was it actually a big deal to me, though, or did I just feel like it should be a big deal, and that's why I couldn't pursue her?

  Alright, that's it. I'm done thinking about this, and I am calling it a day. I'm going fishing, I decide as I stride out of my office, banging the door closed behind me.

  Walking back to the front of the department, I nod to Sergeant Fleming.

  "Where
are you going?” he asks in surprise. “Are you leaving already Sir?" the sergeant calls after me.

  "I'm goin' fishin'," I say, slamming the heavy wooden door behind me. I need to get this girl out of my head. I need to be alone. I can’t concentrate when I have her filling my mind, and my mind imagining filling her body.

  Chapter Three

  Lucy

  "Hey, Annie," I call to my biggest fan.

  "What do you want, girl?" she snaps to me.

  I can't even pretend to be offended. I know I'm making progress on her. The first two weeks, Annie practically ignored everything I said.

  "I'm clocking off now. I just wanted to let you know before I ran out."

  She makes a grunting sound in my direction before opening her next tabloid.

  I don't know how she can stand to read those things. Half of it can't possibly be true. There's no way Taylor Swift is dating Kanye West. I roll my eyes as I walk out of the convenience store.

  I guess that's the most news that we get in a Podunk town like this. I swear the first chance I get; I am out of here. I just have to figure out what's keeping me here in the first place. I could've gone straight to college like Abbie. She offered to pay for my entire education. I didn't take her up on her offer, though; I decided to take the summer off to explore new avenues and work instead. That's why I stayed, right? I ask, questioning myself. It can’t be that I have a strange fixation on a man more than twice my age. And isn't that fucking sexy? An older man, maybe he can teach me a thing or two, I muse as I stroll across the street waving at the cars that honk as they drive-by.