Blue-Eyed Hero E-Book

Theresa Paolo

• Herausgeber: TMP Books Inc
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Return to Willow Cove in this suspenseful enemies to lovers where two frenemies team up to find the person threatening one of their lives.

Allison Winters, local TV reporter, is as loved as she is hated. It’s a price she’s willing to pay to get the story. But when she starts receiving threats in the mail, the local sheriff and her biggest rival, insists on finding the culprit while also keeping her close to protect her.

Recently taking on the sheriff's position in the small town, Reid Silva is determined to keep the town and its citizens safe, including Allison, the proverbial thorn in his side who refuses to take the threats she’s receiving seriously. Until he convinces her it could be the story of her career.

As the two enemies work together, pent up sexual tension grows, and as feelings that have been covered by contempt reveal themselves, they each let their guard down. But as the threats get more serious, Reid has no choice but to face a past he has hid from for over a decade. Reid needs to decide if opening up to Allison is worth putting her in even more danger. Or if he should let a real chance at love slip from his grasp in order to save her.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Blue-Eyed Hero

Dedication

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

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Sneak Peek at Mad About Matt

Other Books by Theresa

Become a Townie

Acknowledgements

About the Author

COPYRIGHT

All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author except where permitted by law.

Published by Theresa Paolo

Copyright March 2023

Edited by CookieLynn Publishing Services

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Dedicated to my walking pad.

You were always there

even when I was shoving chocolate in my face.

Chapter 1

The season hadn’t even begun. Reid Silva still had a week until Memorial Day, the official kickoff to tourist season, yet idiots had already started causing havoc in his town. If this call was any indication of what the season would hold, he was going to need more coffee, a couple more bottles of whisky at the end of the night, and a never-ending supply of ibuprofen to deal with the headache that was Allison Winters, local TV news reporter and a royal pain in his ass.

She moved toward him with purpose and determination. Her heels clicked along the boardwalk, her navy power suit tailored to perfection. Someone who looked that good should not be an annoying thorn in his side.

Her camera guy, Larry, hurried behind her, attempting to keep up with her pace, but even though she was in five-inch heels, she was a gym rat, unlike Larry, who ate donuts for breakfast. His gut hung over his waistband and jiggled as he picked up speed, almost nearing a jog. Almost.

Reid liked the man. Despite his habit of shoving the camera wherever Allison told him to, he was a good man, honest, who picked his kids up from school and went to all their soccer and baseball games. Still, there were many times—too many—when Reid nearly ripped the camera from the poor guy’s hands. He understood Larry had a job to do, but Reid couldn’t be on camera. Keeping his identity a secret didn’t only protect him, but the entire town. They did not need his past showing up in Willow Cove. It was simple as that.

“Sheriff,” Allison said, using his title now that they were on camera—a title she would never use if it was just the two of them speaking, which was perfectly fine by him. He didn’t want to be known as the sheriff. He was an officer of the law, and titles were just political bullshit he couldn’t be bothered with. He never would have taken the position if Simons didn’t decide he wanted to retire after thirty years.

“Go away, Allison,” he said, not hesitating to stop. No. If he hesitated, she would use that tight little body of hers to block his path. So he kept moving with determined strides.

Not that it deterred her. Within seconds, she was beside him, shoving a microphone in his face. The scent of coconut that was so distinctly her smacked into his senses. “Can you tell us what the dispute was over? Was anyone arrested?”

He sighed, unintentionally inhaling her scent. He shifted, doing his best to ignore how good she smelled. He needed to get her away from him, and there was only one way to handle little Miss TV Reporter. “Fuck. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, and fucking shit.”

Allison growled and dropped the hand holding the microphone to her thigh. A loud smack echoed through the early late spring day. Her plump lips parted on an annoyed exhale. “Damn it, Reid! You know, I can’t use any footage on air if you curse.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. He thought she would have learned by now—it had been ten years for crying out loud—but every time one little thing happened in this small town, she insisted on forcing his hand. She had yet to get him on camera, and while her persistence was somewhat admirable, he wished she would give it a damn break. “Nothing happened, so you’re not missing much.”

Just a bunch of jackasses arguing over a girl. The fact that it was six am, and they were still drunk from the night before, made Reid think he’d need to add another round of patrols to the boardwalk after the bars closed.

“I can’t have nothing to report, Reid. You got to give me something. Please.”

He stopped walking and turned to the pain in his ass. She tilted her head, her long black hair falling out from behind her ear. Why he wanted to swipe it into place was beyond him. “Look, it was a stupid argument. No punches were thrown, no weapons were drawn. Just verbal diarrhea from a bunch of drunk twenty-one-year-olds who can’t hold their booze.”

Her eyes, the color of his favorite whisky, lit up. “I can spin it.”

He had no doubt. The woman could make watching paint dry into a two-hour special event, and people would watch. When she wasn’t being a pain in his ass, she was a natural charmer people instantly liked. Even him, not that he’d ever admit it to her.

“Go for it.” He started walking, surprised when he didn’t hear her shoes clacking on the boardwalk behind him. He should be relieved, but some strange part of him wished she was chasing after him.

Clearly, he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He needed a cup of coffee and to get to the station before making his rounds through town.

He walked into the Local Bean and gave a wave to Cami, the owner and friend. She greeted him with a bright smile. The strawberry blonde hair she’d been sporting for a while was gone and back to her signature platinum blonde.

“How’s it going today?” she asked.

“Throw a shot of espresso in there, will ya?”

“A double cafe macchiato it is. Must be a rough morning.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Cami brought over the to-go cup and slid it across the counter. She gave the counter a quick wipe, then tossed the towel over her shoulder. Her arms crossed over her chest, and she nodded toward the wall of windows overlooking the boardwalk. “Wouldn’t have something to do with a certain TV reporter now, would it?”

“What do you think?” He took a sip of his hot drink and closed his eyes for a brief second as the caffeine worked its way through his system, only for Allison to fill his mind. He hadn’t had a moment of peace in ten years since meeting her.

He handed the exact change over to Cami.

Cami smirked. “She’s just trying to deliver the news to the good people of the town. Keeping us informed. I appreciate that.”

“At least one of us does.”

“Here.” Cami turned away and opened her pastry display. She grabbed a pair of tongs and pulled out an oversized chocolate chip cookie that Reid occasionally treated himself to. “On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I know, but I think the citizens of Willow Cove will thank me for it later.”

“Very funny.”

“Besides, don’t you have a meeting with the mayor today?”

“I do.” He would be going over his budget and trying to find a way to kindly ask her for an increase.

“Then consider this a good luck cookie.”

He took the bag and held it up. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. Now you better run. She looks distracted at the moment.” Cami nodded toward the boardwalk.

Without a glance in Allison’s direction, Reid hurried out of the coffee shop and straight to his cruiser. He put the cookie on the seat beside him, took a sip of his coffee, then headed for the station.

Ten minutes later, he was in his office, going through incident reports and trying to determine if he had the budget to up the patrols along the boardwalk. Curiosity tugged at his gut, though, so despite his resolve, he clicked on the local news.

Sonny St. Clair, the local weather guy, pointed to a map, declaring clear skies for the next few days.

Great. Most people loved clear skies and sunshine, but for Reid, it meant the perfect weather for people to do stupid things. “Back to you, Sandra.”

The forty-year veteran smiled at the camera. Her hair and makeup were perfect as always. At sixty-three, the woman still had the spark that most likely got her in that chair in the first place. “Thank you, Sonny. We’re going to go to the boardwalk where Allison Winters is reporting live. Allison?”

Reid finished his coffee, tossing the cup into the garbage beside his desk. Allison came onto the screen, her eyes locked onto the camera as if they were staring into his soul. Her lips parted, and his mind drifted to the boardwalk, reminding him of the scent of coconut. He wondered if she’d taste as good as she smelled.

“Fucking hell.” He thrust his hand through his hair.

“Thank you, Sandra,” Allison’s voice grabbed his attention. “I am here on the main boardwalk of Willow Cove after an altercation broke out in the early morning hours, involving two men who were under the influence. I was assured by our local sheriff there were no injuries, but it still begs the question. How safe is our boardwalk for the children?”

Reid’s eyes widened, and he jumped from his chair, slamming his hand on the desk. Pain radiated through his arm, but it had nothing on the fury rushing through his blood in a heated rage.

“With the first official weekend of summer only a week away, how can we guarantee the safety of the community when the bars close and the police are nowhere to be found? Must we not forget it was less than two months ago when I was held at gunpoint at one of our local hangouts. And not even a month since one of our locals had her car vandalized by angry trolls.”

Reid jabbed his hand toward the TV, ramming his finger into the off button, before throwing the remote across the small space. “I’m going to kill her!”

Judy, one of his deputies, poked her head into his office. “Everything okay, boss?” It was a nickname she started calling him when he told her not to call him sheriff or worse, by his last name.

His jaw tightened, and he attempted to take a calming breath. “If you get a call later about me committing murder, it’s not a prank.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, and he knew she was thinking of a witty reply, but he’d clearly caught her off guard. “Want me to disinfect the cell in anticipation for your arrival?”

“That’d be nice. Thanks.” He grabbed his keys and stormed toward the door.

“Hey boss,” Judy called.

“Yeah?” He stopped and turned toward the three-year deputy who still had stars in her blue eyes. “Don’t kill anyone.”

“No promises,” he said and headed straight for his cruiser.

Chapter 2

Back at the studio, Allison sat at her desk and flipped through the stack of fan mail. Usually it was older women trying to set her up with their sons, grandsons, or whoever they had in their family, but still, she got a kick out of them and always made sure to send a handwritten note with a thanks but no thanks. Without her fans, she’d be a nobody, and she knew that. Though, there were also the heartless souls who ripped her to shreds on social media, pointing out every blemish, split end, and whatever else they could pick apart. Those lovely people also gave her the despised nickname of “the babbler” since she apparently over talked in interviews. Whatever. She was just making the interviewee comfortable, and it worked.

She ignored the naysayers for the most part, but she couldn’t help but check her social media, searching those comments out. Sometimes she liked to heart the comment or leave a simple thank you just to show them no matter what they said, they wouldn’t break her spirit.

Deciding against social media, she stuck with the envelopes, opening the first one on top and laughing when Marla from Crescent Lane invited her to a Memorial Day cookout to meet her nephew. She put the letter aside into the need-to-respond pile. Next was a letter from some creep telling her how hot she was. That letter went into the do-not-respond pile—aka the garbage.

The next envelope didn’t have a return address. She turned it over and slid her envelope opener under the flap. The white paper was ripped into a small square. The words were typed which wasn’t completely uncommon, but not her norm.

She scanned the words, and a chill ran down her spine.

You think you’re so perfect. But you ain’t.

The world would be a better place without a bitch like you.

Watch your back. The time is near.

She stared at the words until they blended together into an ugly swirl of black. It wasn’t the first angry letter she’d received, or the first death threat, but there was something about this particular letter that grabbed at her throat and choked the air from her lungs.

“Hey, Allison.” Sonny walked over, and she shoved the letter into her bag.

His light gray suit and the blue and green tie with matching square pocket showed his impeccable style. He smiled, his dark brown hair slicked back. He was a good-looking guy with a charming air about him the local woman ate up. He was a couple years older than her, living the bachelor life, but had asked her out on several occasions. She’d said no. Dating a coworker sounded like a recipe for a disaster. Besides, if she were to grab Sandra’s coveted anchor seat after she retired—whenever that would finally be—Allison needed to keep her relationships strictly professional.

He nodded toward the letter. “What was that?”

“Oh nothing. What’s going on?”

“I heard the higher ups submitted your online bullying segment to the Maine Press Club Award for consideration.”

A smile curved her lips. He was being nice, but she’d take it. “They did..” She didn’t mean to squeak, but she’d been floating on cloud nine since she’d found out.

“You’re going to win it.”

She laughed. “We don’t even know if I’m in the running yet.”

“It was a great segment that really highlighted the growing threats of online bullying. It’s current, it’s brave, and it touches those heart strings. You’re a shoo-in.”

She crossed her fingers and held them up. “We’ll see.”

He knocked on her desk and sauntered away.

She shoved the rest of the letters in her drawer, and an unsettling pit formed in her stomach. What if there were more letters like the last? A lump lodged in her throat, but she swallowed it. There was nothing to be concerned about. It was a silly letter, probably by some jackass looking to get a rise out of her. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

It was just that she was still on edge after the whole gun incident at Scoops, and this had been the first viable threat since then. Up until that day, she had never experienced real fear. Fear like that didn’t just go away. It clung to her, sneaking in at the worst time and reminding her that while she felt unstoppable, some idiot could end her at any minute.

It was getting late, and she wanted to get out of the office and get home.

Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she made her way through the entrance of the building, waving at Tom, the security guard, as she went.

“In a hurry today, Miss Allison?” The sixty-four-year-old Army vet asked. Tom had been a staple in the building as long as she’d been with the station. She always felt safe with him manning the entrance. Now she wondered if someone showed up with the intent to harm her, if Tom would be able to subdue him without getting hurt himself. He had the credentials, but he’d also been out of the military for twenty years.

The thought bounced around her head, and she tried to focus on Tom’s question. “Lots to do today. Want to get a head start. But tomorrow, I want to hear all about that granddaughter of yours.” He was a grandpa to a girl who adored him. Maybe it was time he retired or got a nice, safe job. Then again, security at their office usually comprised Tom greeting people at the door. Maybe she should tell him about the letter…

No. She was being ridiculous. There was no need to make a fuss over it.

“You bet!” Tom exclaimed, and Allison made a mental note to make time to talk with him tomorrow.

She waved again and pushed out into the early afternoon. The sun warmed her instantly, a reminder that summer was just around the corner, and with her schedule, she’d have time to enjoy it. So what if she had to be at the station at five am? She was out the door by one on most days and had the rest of the day to do whatever she pleased.

Today, however, she didn’t want to go to the gym or browse the shops in town. She wanted to get home behind her locked door until the anxiety of that letter fizzled out.

“Allison!” Her name was a bark across the parking lot. She jolted at the unexpected sound, and she expected fight or flight to kick in, but instead she froze.

This was ridiculous. She wasn’t some timid girl who ran from fear or, in this case, became paralyzed by it. Heck. That incident that had filled her with fear was also the same incident in which she held a gun to a crazed gunman. Fear or not, she was strong.

Still, she wasn’t stupid. She positioned her bag close to where she kept her pepper spray—her gun was at home in the safe box— and pivoted on her heel. The tension in her shoulders eased when she saw Reid’s handsome face. She loosened her grip on her bag even though anger twisted his lips into a sinister scowl. Reid she could handle no matter how snippy he got.

She plastered on her news anchor smile and gave him a cutesy wave. “Oh, hi there, Reid.”

He stormed toward her. Oh, he was definitely angry. “Don’t you hi there, Reid me. What the fuck, Allison?”

She looked at her nails and tried to act cool despite the six-foot-plus man coming to an abrupt stop only inches from her. “It’s good to see you, too.”

“No, it’s not,” he snapped. The words filled with daggers, but words just like in that letter, couldn’t hurt her. She stood her ground. “What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice rose, echoing across the empty parking lot.

“Depends who you ask,” she answered, knowing damn well it would only add fuel to his already burning fire. She loved to stoke his flames. She could even go as far as calling it a personal hobby of hers. There was just something about watching Mr. Authority lose his cool.

He pointed his finger. Most people would cower, but not her. Reid was prickly, but he was also harmless. He leaned toward her before angrily dropping his arm to his side and turning away. Just as she expected.

“Damn it. Why must you—?” He cut his own words off. “Did you do it because I didn’t grant you a damn interview?”

“Do what?” She honestly didn’t know what he was so furious about. With Reid, it could be a million things.

He ran a hand through his very short, dark blond hair. It complimented his blue eyes and was in strong contrast to the dark stubble that sometimes peppered his face. Some men looked unkempt with a five o’clock shadow, while it only added to Reid’s mysterious sex appeal.

“I have a meeting with the mayor in two hours. What am I supposed to say to her after you completely threw me and my department under a bus on bullshit claims?”

Oh. Her segment about the bars and the boardwalk. “The claims technically aren’t bullshit. If you had patrols on the boardwalk, that altercation could have been avoided.”

His large chest heaved with an inhale, an obvious sign he was trying to keep his cool, but Allison knew it was only a Band-Aid to his frustration, and she found pleasure in ripping that bandage off.

“Do you have the money to give me to make that happen? My budget is already spread thin, and I was trying to figure out a way to do just that when your damn segment came on the TV.”

Her head snapped up, and she met his stormy gaze. “You were watching my segment?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m just surprised, is all. You do everything in your power to make it impossible for me to put you on the news, yet you watch it.” There weren’t many things that surprised her, but Reid tuning in to watch her definitely did.

“I was curious to see how you were going to spin the damn story, and good thing I watched, or I’d be broadsided when I walk into the mayor’s office.”

She shrugged. “I was just asking a question.”

“You’re so full of shit and you know it.” And the Band-Aid was off. She could meet him toe to toe, but it pissed him off more when she acted impassive.

She rolled her eyes as if he was being overdramatic, which he was. It was simple, really. “Use it to your advantage, then. Tell the mayor in order to increase patrol you need a budget increase. You’re welcome.”

He stepped toward her, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breaths. His blue eyes narrowed, locking on hers. She swallowed at the intensity and tried to ignore the heat that flooded her core.

“Don’t act like you did me a favor. What about the people?”

Her eyebrow arched as she met his glare head on, refusing to back down. “What people?”

His arms lifted like he wanted to choke her. His bicep pressed against his sleeve, stretching the material of his uniform. She bit her lip, wondering what those arms would feel like wrapped around her.

Shaking the thought from her head, she focused on the irritated pull of his brow. She stifled a laugh, and his arms fell to his sides. “The town. You made me seem like I’m incompetent in my role as sheriff.”

Of course. Typical male. Worried about his competency and nothing else. She loved battling with him, but this was ridiculous. “It was one little news story, for crying out loud. You are looking way too far into this.”

“I don’t think I am. How can people trust me to protect them and their town with you putting doubt in their minds?”

It all made sense now. Reid drove a hard bargain most of the time, but he also took pride in the respect he garnered from the town. People looked up to him, trusted him, relied on him, and he was afraid she of all people would tarnish that. Did he not realize how nearly impossible that was? As far as the people were concerned, Reid was the perfect sheriff.

“Look, Reid, while I would love nothing more than to stand here and argue with you all day, I have things to do, and you have a meeting with the mayor to get to.”

“You’re infuriating!”

“You’ve mentioned that before.” Only every time they were within a five-foot radius of each other.

She reached into her bag and pulled out her keys. The letter fell out and floated to the ground. Before Allison could snatch the paper up, Reid retrieved it. He held it out to her, then his hand snapped back, his blue eyes darting across the page.

His jaw turned to granite, the veins in his neck bulging and tightening. He stepped toward her, his big frame dwarfing her. He waved the paper in her face. “What the fuck is this?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you curse entirely too much?”

“Don’t play games with me right now. What is this?”

She sighed. “It’s nothing.” She attempted to snatch it back, but it was fruitless.

The tides shifted in Reid’s blue eyes, turning the frustrated clear blue to a dark and stormy combination of anger and concern. “When did you get this?”

“Today, but it could have been in the mailroom longer.”

“Jesus, Allison. Were you not going to report this?”

“It’s just some asshole getting his kicks, and I refuse to let him win.”

Reid’s long finger pointed to the paper in his other hand. “This is a serious threat.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“And I think you’re under-reacting. Did you show your boss?”

She waved him off. “No. It’s not necessary.”

“Allison.” He stepped toward her, surrounding her in his masculine scent of wood and ocean air. She swallowed, refusing to inhale deeply. His hand rested gently on her arm, showing how much larger he was than her. The storm in his eyes cleared to blue skies, and he leveled her with his gaze. “What if it is serious?”

She refused to allow herself to fear some jackass. “It wouldn’t be the first time, and I’m still standing to talk about it.” But the fear that still clung to her pushed itself to the surface, and an annoying voice in her head questioned if this threat was different. After her report at Scoops and Victor going to jail for a slew of charges, some people in town weren’t exactly happy with her. They thought her report that made national news cast a dark cloud over Willow Cove. The fact she brought it up on air every chance she got… well, that didn’t help either.

She’d hoped the online bullying segment she did would help people forget about the previous big story, but that only secured their belief that Allison was giving their town a bad rep. It wasn’t her fault assholes showed up in Willow Cove. She couldn’t not report on it. It was her job. Those people need to get over it.

She wouldn’t tell Reid, though. He’d blow it out of proportion, and her boss would take her off the road. And then what? Sandra hadn’t retired, so her seat was firmly taken. Allison would have nowhere to go, and jobless wasn’t an answer for her.

“You’ve been threatened before?” he asked, and the incredulous tone mixed with the concern in his gaze nearly brought her to her knees. It reminded her of the last time he dropped the veil between them and showed genuine concern. It only took her almost dying at gunpoint, and it was worth it. It had only been a single moment out of the thousands shared over the last ten years, but that moment had touched her in a way she still daydreamed about.

Though, touched or not, there was nothing he needed to involve himself in. “Yup,” she said, forcing a brave smile. “So, as you can see, it’s nothing to be concerned about. Like I said, just another asshole.”

She went to take the letter from him, and he held it out of her reach. Even in five-inch heels, he towered over her. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to hold on to this.”

“Whatever. If it makes you happy, keep it. No skin off my back.” She was just going to throw it in the trash when she got home. Honestly, she had no idea why she hadn’t already.

He didn’t move, and his eyes lingered on her, heating her body under his unwavering gaze. She circled around him to her car. She needed to get away from Reid so she could think straight. “Good luck with your meeting.”

“If you get any more of these”—he waved the letter in the air between them—“please let me know.”

“I will,” she said, refusing to look more into his concern, and got in her car

A tap on the window jolted her, and she clutched her chest. She hated that she was jumpy. Hated that she gave this threat any creditability. Not anymore. She straightened, and Reid’s handsome face peered down. She turned the car on and lowered the window. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I just wanted to say be careful.”

The kindness of his tone cut straight through the residual fear and engulfed her heart with warmth. Maybe beneath the gruff exterior and constant snark, he actually did care about her.

Chapter 3

The mayor’s office was on the far end of town, away from the tourist areas and by a private beach only accessible by town residents. Reid pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He adjusted his silver-blue uniform sleeves and ran a hand down the front buttons. Mayor Joan Sands was always impeccably dressed, and Reid couldn’t help but think she judged people by appearance.

With a deep breath, he headed inside. He stopped at the front desk, manned by Ruby Duran. Her blonde hair was piled on her head, and her black eyeliner curved out a couple of inches past her eye. She gave a dainty wave, and Reid smiled. The youngest of the Duran family at twenty-four, she’d been working as the mayor’s assistant since she graduated high school.

“Hi Reid. She’ll be just a minute. She’s finishing up a call.”

“Great. How’s your parents?” he asked.

“They’re doing good! Dad’s recovering nicely from his surgery but driving my mom crazy. She can’t wait for him to get back to work.” She shook her head and laughed.

Kevin Duran had slipped on a patch of ice outside his office over the winter and shattered his shoulder.

“Once he’s all healed up, he’ll be better than ever and thrilled to get back to work, I’m sure.”

“That’s what he keeps saying. If he’ll just do his physical therapy, but you know him. Stubborn mule.”

Reid chuckled at the accurate description. Reid had known Kevin as long as he’d been in Willow Cove.