Hooking Him (How to Catch an Alpha #3)(54)

“Okay.” She rolls her eyes. “But what if you get all girls?”

“I guess I’ll figure out how to deal if that happens.”

“Right,” she says with a laugh and then sighs, resting her temple against the back of her chair. “You’re lucky I love you, Detective Miller, because you make me crazy.”

“Or maybe you’re lucky I love you,” I say, and her pupils dilate. And I know then that she didn’t even realize she said she loved me and hadn’t expected me to feel the same. “I’d like to remind you that I have to deal with your crazy friends and family and whatever drama you cook up.”

Her eyes search mine before she whispers, “I don’t cook up drama.”

“Okay, you don’t, but you’re a magnet for it.”

“That seems to be true,” she agrees.

I chuckle, then lift her hand to my lips. “I love you, Anna, everything about you, even the things that make me wonder if you might be certifiable.”

Her lips tip into a smile. “I’m going to ignore everything you said.”

“Everything?” I ask, and she sets down her mostly empty wineglass and gets up, only to sit sideways in my lap.

“Not all of it.” She rests her hand against my cheek, then touches her lips to mine. “I’ll remember you said you love me. I like that part.” I smile and slide my hand up her back to thread my fingers through her hair.

“Are you tired?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.” I enjoy the feel of her in my arms, her smell washing over me, and the look in her eyes that says she’s just as content as I am in what we are building.

“Then no.”

“Good, neither of us have work tomorrow, which means I don’t have to rush things tonight.” I stand with her in my arms, and she wraps her arms around my shoulders.

“You’ve rushed things before?” She raises a brow as I open the door and step inside.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not going to tell you,” I say, and she laughs and then gasps as I lay her on the bed and spend the rest of the night taking my time, showing her just how much I love her.



I jerk awake when Bane barks and paws at the curtains covering the glass sliding door, and I sit up, tossing back the covers.

“What’s going on?” Anna asks as she sits up.

“I don’t know. Stay here.” I stand and grab my jeans from the floor. I put them on before walking the few steps to the door. After opening the heavy dark curtains, I look out at the bright morning. “Heel,” I order Bane, and he falls to his stomach, whining. I open the door and step outside, leaving him inside with Anna, and look around. When I don’t see anyone nearby, I start to head back in but stop when I smell weed. I look over the rail of the balcony and close my eyes, saying loudly, “I’m going to pretend you three are not smoking weed right now!”

I listen to the three women on the deck below let out surprised screams. They stumble and fumble before the door to downstairs opens and closes. I go back into Anna’s and rub Bane’s head to let him know he did good, since he’s been in training to sniff out drugs, and that’s the first time he’s been alerted outside of a training situation.

“What happened?” Anna asks, and I notice that at some point she’s put on a shirt. I go to the kitchen to get a cup of water and flip on the coffeepot.

“The Golden Girls were outside getting high. Bane must have smelled it,” I say. I then go to the bathroom, take care of business, and brush my teeth before shutting off the light. I then find Anna just where I left her with a wide-eyed look on her face.

“They were getting high again?” she asks, and I narrow my eyes on her. “I—”

“I don’t want to know.” I hold up my hand, palm out. “I’m going to pretend it didn’t happen, because the idea of dragging the three of them down to the station and dealing with them on my day off is too much for me to think about right now.”

“I don’t think they do it often,” she says, chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Baby, I don’t care if people smoke weed, but it’s not legal in South Carolina, which makes it a crime. And since I’m a cop, I’m on the side of the law when it comes to dealing with it.”

“I get that. I’ll talk to them,” she offers, and I shake my head.

“You are not talking to them about it. They are all grown—very grown—women who know they shouldn’t be smoking pot. They don’t need you to tell them that.”

“I actually think they might have a whole Freaky Friday thing going on, like they switched consciousness with three sixteen-year-old girls. Only unlike that movie, they don’t want to change back, because now they have an excuse to do whatever they want, and that excuse is they’re old.”

I laugh at her explanation, then mutter, “You might be right. Maybe I should search for three teen girls who spend their time knitting, baking cookies, and taking care of a bunch of cats.”

“If you find them, I can contact a witch; then you can lock the six of them in a cell together, and we’ll force them to return to their bodies,” she says with a laugh, and I grin.

“Where are you gonna find a witch?”