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She gives her feet a passing glance. “I wasn’t planning to walk when I got dressed this morning.”

“What happened?”

“I still can’t find my driver’s license.” Her tone is impatient, but at least she’s talking now.

“I’m impressed, Miss Green. You do obey the law.”

She takes a deep breath, causing those perfect breasts to rise. I look away, to the road ahead.

Her reply is pure sass. “If I didn’t obey the law, Deputy Tucker, I wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“Call me Chad.”

She stops abruptly, putting a hand on her hip. “Isn’t there some law against stalking private citizens?”

“Stalking is a pattern of behavior. I’m trying to be a Good Samaritan. This road isn’t designed for pedestrians. You’ll turn an ankle.”

“Is that any of your business?”

“Actually, it is. I’ve sworn to keep the people of Oceanside safe.”

“So you’re just going to drive along the shoulder at one mile per hour while I walk?”

“It’d be easier if you’d let me give you a lift.”

Her green eyes narrow, and she studies me a moment. She looks down at her feet then ahead at the town. Finally, with an exasperated exhale, she stomps around the front of the car, jerking the passenger door open. I bite back a grin as she climbs inside and fastens her seatbelt.

She keeps her face turned to her open window, and the cool breeze pushes her dark hair behind her shoulder, exposing the fair skin of her neck. We don’t speak for a minute, and I consider making a turn around the block to give us a little more time. Her presence fills the space, and my awareness of her is electric.

She breaks the silence, looking up and around the car. “I’ve never been inside one of these before.”

“Really?” I don’t hide the surprise in my voice.

That gets me another annoyed glare. “How bad do you think I am, Chad?”

Even with that tone, my name sounds good on her lips. “Hopefully, just bad enough.”

Her cheeks flush pink again, but the ride is over. I stop at the corner of Main and Elm, and she doesn’t give me a chance to open the door for her before she’s out and heading down the row to Emberly’s bakeshop.

Betty’s pack-n-save is first in line followed by Wyatt’s hardware store. Emberly’s bakery is next, and down a bit is Daisy’s antiques store. A smile lifts the corner of my mouth as I watch her go, that ass from my dreams swaying side to side.

The bell over Betty’s door rings as I pull it open, and the aroma of café au lait and beignets hits me.

“Right on time,” a rumbling male voice calls from behind the counter.

André Fontenot is Oceanside’s best-kept secret. He’s got a pop-up sandwich store in Betty’s place, and he makes coffee and poboys to rival anything you’d find in the French Quarter in New Orleans. He and Emberly recently combined forces to add her pastries and launch a breakfast menu. They’re determined to draw tourists up from the beach and back into town, and so far it’s working. Once the word starts to spread, people are going to be lining up.

“Morning, Dre.” I hand him the cash and take the paper cup, giving it a quick puff before taking a sip. Rich, dark coffee surges through my veins, and all is right in the world.

“Saw Tabby getting out of your cruiser just now.” Dark eyes are worried beneath the brim of his Saints ball cap. “Everything okay?”

I lean back against the bar lining the window and nod as I take another sip. “Lost her driver’s license.”

“Shit.” A bright smile splits his dark lips. “I was worried for a second.”

Tabby’s website development has been a big part of their plan, and her penchant for getting into trouble would keep me on edge as well.

“I think I’ve found her Achilles heel.”