Capturing the Cop. Michele Dunaway

St. Louis City, where it was common to see old carriage houses and above-the-garage apartments rented out, Ladue was ritzy and the whole affluent area was known for its huge mansions on three-acre-minimum lots. It was the type of town that would zone against renting garage apartments. Ladue residents were notorious for filing lawsuits over such things as what type of sign you could place in your yard.

      But Olivia was smiling, and the things that did to his equilibrium made his cop’s suspicions about her place of residence a low priority. After all, he reminded himself, this was just one date.

      Liz brought another basketful of bread, this time a different variety from the previous white rolls, and Garrett offered Olivia a piece. “Melanie’s runs you through a couple of different breads a night,” he said, answering her unanswered question. “Try this. Be sure to use some of the honey butter. It’s excellent.”

      Olivia’s fingers connected with his as she took the slice. Heat instantly spread through his body—heat not caused by the warmth of the bread. He definitely reacted to this woman, and again his inner devil stood on his shoulder, whispering exactly what he wanted to do to her.

      But Garrett was a gentleman. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess the bread’s still hot.”

      “Yes,” Olivia agreed as she placed the bread on her plate, buttered the piece and ate a bite. As her lips closed, Garrett tried to stay composed. His only consolation was that her face was flushed, meaning she, too, felt the chemistry.

      But this was to be only one date. Just one, designed to impress those guys over there. He would not take her to bed, no matter how tempted he might be.

      Their crab legs arrived, and they made small talk while savoring their delicious dinner.