by Terry Towers
The Bounty Hunter
And The Girl From The
Coffee Shop
by
Terry Towers
The Bounty Hunter And The Girl From The Coffee Shop Copyright 2012 by Terry Towers
Cover by: Terry Towers
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.
Chapter 1
Portland, Maine - Day 1
Lincoln had been watching Angelique Donovan - a twenty-eight year old bail jumper -
for several days now from the cover of his black 1969 Chevy Impala SS. It wasn't the most inconspicuous car to be on a stakeout in, but it was as close to a partner as he ever got. He'd been given it by his father on his eighteenth birthday - fifteen years ago - just before both of his parents died in a head on collision with a drunk driver.
He had four sisters, though he rarely saw them; life happens like that sometimes and he'd grown to accept that. They all lived in various areas of the North East, while he’d moved to Denver eight years ago and never looked back. For the most part, the car was the closest thing to family that he had and considering he spent more time in it tracking down bail jumpers, than he did in his apartment, he considered the car his home.
The dark-haired beauty was a hard worker, he'd give her that much. She pulled in long shifts every day and of the past three days he'd watched her, two of the shifts had been doubles. Regardless of how many hours she worked, she always greeted each customer with a wide, friendly smile. If he allowed himself he could have easily been pulled in by that bright smile, and the friendly gleam in her lively blue eyes.
But he wouldn't allow himself, because this time next week he'd be handing her over in handcuffs to the authorities in Denver, Colorado, where she was to stand trial on a murder charge. He had wondered countless times over the past few days how such a sweet, pretty little thing like Angelique Donovan could murder anyone. But he'd been a bounty hunter for close to ten years and one thing he'd learned in his time capturing bail jumpers was that anyone is capable of committing a crime. And in many cases it was the people you least expected that committed the worst kinds.
Lincoln sighed. "Well, show-time," he grumbled, thrusting his pistol in his shoulder holster, stuffing a pair of handcuffs in the pocket of his black leather bomber jacket and opening the car door. Not bothering to lock the car, he strutted across the parking lot of the coffee house towards the front entrance, keeping his eyes locked on Angelique.
He wondered if she'd be the type to run when she discovered who he was and why he was there. Most were, but considering it was a public place with so many co-workers around, maybe he'd get lucky and she'd go quietly, maybe even without him having to cuff her.
A guy can only dream.
He opened the front door of the coffee shop for a couple of elderly ladies to exit. They looked up at him, soft smiles touching their lips and muttered their thanks. He gave them a curt nod of his head and slipped through the open door. Of the three girls working the front cashes, Angelique was the only one busy so he waited in line for her.
"I can help you over here, Sir," one of the available hostesses told him but he gave a slight shake of his head.
"Nah thanks, I'll wait for Angelique."
He heard one of the girl mutter 'typical' under her breath followed by, 'she gets all the hot ones.' Lincoln grinned to himself at being referred to as a 'hot one' and removed the mirrored sunglasses that covered his stormy grey eyes and gave the hostess that made the hot one comment a wink. She flushed and scurried away into the back kitchen causing his grin to widen.
The customer before him took his coffee from the counter when Angelique presented him with it and left. His turn. Stepping up to the counter, with his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans he waited for Angelique to acknowledge him.
"How can I help you?" Angelique looked up, her eyes shining, her smile friendly. She chewed at her lower lip as she waited for his response, drawing his eyes to her full, glossed lips.
His cock stirred in his jeans and he growled at himself for letting his mind become distracted; even if it was just long enough to admire her subtle beauty. Shit, even the dorky visor sitting atop her head looked adorable.
Fuck and double fuck.
He cleared his throat, pushing his attraction for her to the back of his mind. He had a job to do and eyeing her like a teenager with a hard-on wasn't going to get it done. He slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his badge. "Well, Angelique... you could help by coming quietly with me."
He locked gazes with her and waited for it - waiting for the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place for her and for her to realize she'd been tracked down and that she was going to be taken back to Denver.
That's it honey, think it over....
Lincoln held his breath, and before his eyes the realization set in. Her eyes widened, her smile faded, and she took a couple of steps back from the cash register.
Oh come on, don't make me chase you.
But she was going to run; he could see it in her eyes, as they quickly surveyed the restaurant around her. It was the look a deer got when it sensed a hunter and was about to make a run for it. She took another step back.
"I... I th-think you have the wrong person."
Lincoln stuffed the badge back into his inner pocket and then slipped his hand into his outside jacket pocket to produce the handcuffs. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Angelique."
She sighed. Frowning, her eyes showed a look of resignation. "Alright," she muttered,
"I'll go with you."
Slipping the cuffs back into his pocket, Lincoln let out a sigh of relief. He took a step back from the counter and waited for her to come around the counter and allow him to escort her from the restaurant.
Head down, she slowly made her way around the counter, until she hit the door for the kitchen. And just like that she made a run for it, dashing into the kitchen.
"Fuck!" Lincoln growled leaping over the counter and beginning what he assumed would be a short, yet annoying pursuit.
As he entered the kitchen, he felt his feet slip out from under him. He reached out to steady himself on the stainless steel counter next to him, but it was too late. Within seconds he found himself on his back, lying on the greasy floor. He turned his head just in time to see her smirk at him, give a tiny wave and disappear out the back exit.
"Oh, that cocky little..." he bellowed as he pulled himself to his feet and continued his pursuit of her, bursting through the back and into the back lot of the coffee shop. His eyes did a quick scan and happened to see her race into an alley between two apartment buildings.
He broke
into a full run chasing after her. He dodged cars as he crossed the busy street and ducked into the alley he'd seen her disappear into. The alley became a maze of dead ends and high fences, so he was certain as long as he followed where it led, he'd have her.
****
Damn, damn, damn.
Tears blurred Angelique's eyes as she sat, hidden at the back of a stinky dumpster.
How did life get this bad for her? Just six months ago she had everything, a promising career as a journalist at a prestigious newspaper, a nice home and was soon to be married to a man she loved and admired, Nathan Winters. Then, in the blink of an eye Nathan was dead and she was the one going to trial for his murder.
Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the sound of footsteps beside the dumpster. Just as the footsteps began to move away, she heard a squeak and felt something run across her exposed ankle. She yelped, and covered her mouth to try and stifle the noise, but it was too late. The owner of the footsteps started back in her direction.
The footsteps came back to the dumpster, and the lid was flipped open to display the bounty hunter glaring down at her. In other circumstances she would have found him attractive, but as he stood staring down at her trembling body, all she could thing about was that this was the end of the line for her. She was going to trial and then to prison for a crime she didn't commit.
"It's over Angelique, come out." He extended his hand to her, but she cowered away from him, inching away until her back hit the cold steel back of the massive dumpster.
The blonde-haired man huffed and his eyes narrowed at her. "You can't be serious.
You have no idea how pissed I'm going to be if I have to come in there after you."
It may have been over for her; she was caught, but she'd be damned if she was going to make it easy on him. She cocked her head to the side and gave him the same condescending smirk she'd given him when she'd seen him slip on the vegetable oil she'd intentionally spilled on the kitchen floor during her escape from the coffee shop. "Guess you're going to have to earn that bounty and come and get me."
His features darkened and anger flashed within his deep grey eyes. "Fine. Have it your way." A deep, growl-like noise came from him as he pulled himself up and into the dumpster.
Seeing one final chance to escape, she scrambled to her feet and leapt over the side as he jumped in. She tripped as she landed on the cement ground of the alleyway, skinning the palms of her hands, but she righted herself once more and lunged forward.
"For the love of fuck, Angelique!" he shouted after her followed by a grunt and thud as he jumped from the dumpster and continued his pursuit.
She had just begun to regain a small sliver of hope when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and an impact which felt like the force of a Mack truck slamming into her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. As Angelique landed, the wind was knocked from her as his weight came crashing down onto her. She was still trying to regain her breath when she felt his weight lift, and her wrists being grabbed roughly and cuffed behind her back.
"We could have just done this the easy way, Angelique and you could have saved me a lot of aggravation. Now you have me in a bad mood."
Angelique huffed. "Do you honestly think I care about your mood?"
"You should since you're stuck with me for the next week. I can be a really nice guy, Angelique, but I can just as easily be a major asshole. Ball’s in your court."
Once her arms were secure, Lincoln stood, grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to her feet. Still not wanting to admit defeat, even with her arms secure behind her back, she tried to jerk her arm from his grasp.
Grabbing her around the waist he pulled her rear tight against him. The fight in her was pretty much gone, but she couldn't resist bucking against him a couple more times.
She gasped and she froze against him as she felt his cock begin to grow and press against her bottom.
"Oh-my-god," she gasped. "You're actually turned on by this? By chasing down a defenceless woman?"
Lincoln stepped back from her, grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her along as they made their way back out of the alleyway. "You were squirming that tight ass of yours against my dick as if you were a damned stripper after a buck; what did you expect?" he defended, refusing to meet her gaze, though as she watched his expression she saw a flush beginning to redden his face. A slight grin touched her lips as a plan began to formulate in her mind, not the best plan in the world, admittedly, but one nonetheless.
She allowed her eyes to wander up and down the length of him. He was at least six foot. She guessed close to 6 foot 2, short-cut blonde hair and deep blue eyes. His shoulders and chest were thick and powerful. He was attractive, no doubt about it, in a rugged sort of way. The kind of guy she'd easily be able to fall for - under different circumstances.
****
Trying to reign in his arousal over her and keep a clear mind, Lincoln avoided her gaze, keeping a firm hand on her arm, while trying to put as much distance between their bodies as possible. Regardless of how incredibly irritating she was, he couldn't deny that he did feel a strong attraction for her. An attraction towards a bounty could be very dangerous.
"Got a name?"
"Yeah, it's none of your damned business." His rude reply didn't seem to bother her in the least.
"So how long have you been looking for me?"
"Long enough." Keep the answers curt, Lincoln, he coached himself, If you start talking to her, you might fall for her. You're already attracted to her so tread lightly.
They reached his car and he was about to open the door to toss her in when it occurred to him where she'd just been. Looking down the length of her, he noticed an assortment of stains from food and perhaps things he didn't want to know about on her uniform. He looked back at his car and shook his head. There was no way in hell, she was getting into his car smelling and looking like she'd just been in a dumpster, which of course she had.
Picking up on his hesitation, Angelique frowned and looked up at him. "What's the problem?"
Ignoring her question, and the effect her bright blue eyes had on him, he scanned the local businesses and a small thrift shop caught his eye. "This way," he tugged roughly at her arm and led her towards the little thrift shop. Stopping at the front door of the shop he turned to face her, keeping his hand firmly around her forearm. "Listen, you're not getting into my car smelling of garbage, so we're going in there and I'm going to buy you some new clothes. There’s going to be no attempt to run, and you're not going to cause a scene, or in any way make a nuisance of yourself. Are we clear?"
Her eyes narrowed at him and he could see the little wheels in her head turning, deciding if it was in her best interests or not to go along with him. He waited, breath held, hoping she'd at least have it in her heart to give him a break on this.
A wide, friendly smile lit up her features and she shrugged. "Of course. No scene, no problems, just shopping. I promise." She held out her pinkie finger to him. "I pinkie swear."
Lincoln's brow furrowed and he eyed her suspiciously. Oh, she had got to be kidding me! What are we, five year old girls? He seriously doubted she was offering up a truce. A trick more than likely, but with a sigh he nodded. "Fine."
She wiggled her pinkie finger at him and gave him a look that asked what the hell he was waiting for. Reluctantly, and feeling like an idiot, he hooked his pinky finger with hers. "Yeah, whatever."
"So, since we're friends now-"
"We're hardly friends," he was quick to correct her.
She rolled her eyes. "So what's your name?"
He scowled at her, but conceded. "It's Lincoln. Lincoln Kyle.” Chapter 2
Angelique grinned to herself as she watched Lincoln go from annoyed to downright angry, the longer it took for her to pick out some clothing. In truth, she couldn't have cared less what she wore; she just took a small bit of satisfaction in making his life as miserable as possible.
"Okay, that's it. I'm done waiting. What siz
e are you?" Not waiting for a reply Lincoln grabbed an assortment of jeans, skirts and tops from the racks and dropped them down on the counter in front of the stunned teenaged female cashier. "Ring them up."
The cashier glanced over at Angelique who gave her a friendly smile and rolled her eyes at Lincoln as if to say, yeah, I don't know what his problem is either.
Once the cashier finished ringing up the pile of clothing Lincoln grabbed a tank top, a pair of blue jeans and a grey leather jacket and thrust them at her. "Go change."
"The dressing room is back there, Miss," the teenaged cashier offered, motioning to the set of doors at the back of the store.
"Thanks," Angelique made her way to the dressing room, while scanning the store for some sort of exit. Her eyes spotted the back exit, but just as she noticed it she heard him coming up behind her.
"Don't even think about running," Lincoln growled from behind her. The warmth from his breath sent a shiver through her and she was surprised to find herself aroused by his closeness.
She glanced over her shoulder and locked gazes with him. "Now why would I do a thing like that?"
"Same reason you hid in a damned dumpster. Now hurry up I want to get on the road."
He placed a hand at the small of her back and pushed her forward at a slightly quicker pace.
Opening the door to the dressing room stall she turned to close and lock it when he pushed her further into the stall and locked himself in it with her. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
Lincoln huffed and raised a brow at her, "You honestly think I'm letting you out of my sight, even for a moment?"
She dropped the clothing onto a black plastic chair at the back of the stall and spread her hands out to the sides, "Where do you expect me to go?"|
Smirking at her, he shrugged. "Nowhere, because I'm not going to give you an opportunity."
"I think what you're doing is illegal."
"Well, by all means sue me." He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and glared down at her.
Angelique growled to herself as she examined the dressing room stall. The stall was abnormally large for such a small boutique, so she was able to place a few feet between them as she eyed him. She was tempted to protest further, but the memory of his erection when he was arresting her popped into her mind.
