Past Midnight (South Island PD Book 2)

by Ranae Rose

  “Holy hell.” He glanced at Jace and winced. He needed to watch his mouth, but it was hard to do when his head was spinning and his heart was racing.

  “He might as well have handed us his ass on a silver platter.”

  It was the first time Elijah had ever heard Lieutenant Aldred speak like that.

  “And since the arrest happened in the capital and not here, it’s not like anyone can accuse our department of bias. Weitcamp is in deep.”

  “I’d say so.”

  “Mommy and Daddy Weitcamp are pissed. I don’t know if it’s because he stole from Grandma or because he lost his sports scholarship, but their baby boy has toppled off his pedestal. They’re not bailing him out.”

  Elijah stood frozen and silent until his ears began to ring.

  “Bennett. You there?”

  “Yeah. Do me a huge favor and repeat what you just said, Ma’am, so I know I wasn’t hearing things.”

  “The Weitkamps are finally acknowledging their son’s guilt. The department’s in the clear. You’re in the clear. You should be back out on patrol soon.”

  * * * * *

  “We kicked ass today,” Peyton said.

  Madison nodded. “We did.”

  Peyton flashed her sister a grin as she pulled up to the curb in front of the house. They’d broken their own personal sales record that day. Summer was drawing to a close, and Charmed was officially well into the black.

  She couldn’t wait to tell Elijah.

  “Looks like the guys are outside,” Madison said, popping open the passenger-side door, climbing out of the car and standing without the aid of a cane.

  They rounded the house and joined Jace and Elijah on the side lawn. Elijah’s gorgeous face was split by a dazzling grin.

  Jace stood nearby with a baseball mitt.

  “I’ve got good and bad news,” Elijah said. “Which do you want to hear first?”

  “Bad,” Peyton said, without any real fear. It couldn’t be that awful if he was smiling like that.

  He nodded. “I threw a baseball through the living room window. I’m sorry, and I’ll get it fixed.”

  His grin never wavered. “And now for the good news: Joseph Weitcamp was charged with another DUI in Columbia. They caught him driving under the influence with an open container in his vehicle and a pocket full of prescription pills he stole from his own grandmother. His parents are refusing to bail him out this time.”

  “Oh my god. Are you serious?” Peyton’s heart beat a million miles per minute.

  “Yeah, I’m serious. And my Lieutenant says I should be back on the streets soon. Tell you what – let’s all go out for dinner to celebrate. Moreno’s, my treat.”

  Everyone agreed – even Madison. And before Elijah could climb into his car, she took several remarkably steady steps toward him and met his gaze.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first,” Madison said. “About what happened during that traffic stop. You’re a good person and a good cop; at the time I just didn’t realize there was any such thing as the latter.”

  “That means a lot, especially coming from you,” Elijah said to Madison. “But don’t worry about it. It’s behind me now, and I won’t bring any part of it into the future.”

  His smile remained brilliant as he paused by his car, pulled out his phone and dialed.

  “Jackson and Belle are meeting us there,” he told Peyton moments later.

  “Great.”

  When they arrived, it wasn’t just Jackson and Belle who’d shown up to celebrate. More than a dozen other officers showed up – Jackson must’ve spread the word. The restaurant ended up giving them the entire second floor, and even his lieutenant showed up.

  The evening was perfect – easily the happiest Peyton had ever been. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she got to go home with Elijah when it was over, she wouldn’t have wanted it to ever end.

  EPILOGUE

  “I know the bathrooms are a little dated,” Mrs. Mabry – a friend of Elijah’s mother – said, “but the kitchen’s absolutely gorgeous and the new roof came with a ten-year warranty. I honestly don’t think you’ll find anything better for the price.”

  Elijah knew it was true, but that wasn’t the most important thing. The house had caught his eye the moment he’d seen the ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard.

  “I agree.” He took a long look around the kitchen, with its granite countertops and pale blue cabinets. They looked like something Peyton would like.

  “Are you interested in making an offer? No rush, of course, but it’s priced to sell. Not many people are house hunting this close to the holidays, but still.”

  “I can’t say for sure, but I’ll be in touch either way. I’ve got something else I need to look into before a decision is made.”

  “Sure. You have my number. Feel free to get in touch at any time.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Mabry. I won’t keep you waiting long.”

  They exited the house together, Mrs. Mabry in her pantsuit and Elijah in his uniform, a jacket unzipped over his shirt and vest. From the doorstep, he could just see Peyton’s house, a block down the street.

  Leaving his car parked at the curb, he walked in that direction after bidding the realtor goodbye.

  The early December darkness had descended on the island, but streetlights lit his way adequately.

  Peyton pulled up to the curb in front of her house as he approached. Madison rode shotgun, and Jace was in the back seat.

  “Hey!” Peyton climbed out with a smile on her face. She looked gorgeous in slim-fitting jeans, knee-high boots and a flattering green jacket, although he missed her summertime sundresses. “What are you doing here – not working, I hope?”

  “My shift’s over. I’m here to whisk you away for a romantic evening.”

  “Oh really?” Her eyes glittered.

  “Really.”

  She looked down at herself. “Am I underdressed?”

  “Not at all. I thought we’d start with a walk around the block.”

  She shot him a curious look, then shrugged. “Okay.”

  After greeting Jace and Madison, he took Peyton by the hand and led the way down the sidewalk.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “And don’t tell me nothing.”

  “Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I? You’re right – there’s something I want to show you.”

  She looked from side to side, at the rows of modest bungalows and Cape Cods. “Here?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stopped when they reached the Cape Cod with the white siding, new roof and empty flower boxes hanging below the windows.

  “I’m considering moving.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’ve outgrown the apartment.”

  She still looked curious, if not confused, as her gaze settled on the ‘for sale’ sign.

  “Are you looking to buy a house?”

  He nodded. “Not just any house. This one.”

  She stared at the home with renewed interest. “It looks nice, although I’ve never seen the inside. Why this place specifically, though?”

  He drew a deep breath and held it for a split second. “The location.”

  She glanced down the street, at the house she and Madison shared. “The location’s pretty fabulous.”

  She shot him a smile, but a question shone in her eyes.

  She’d humored him so far – now it was time to explain.

  His heart beat twice as fast as usual, and a sense of yearning caused a wrenching in his chest. “I’ve been thinking about this for months. Not this house, but asking you to marry me.”

  Her eyes widened as he continued.

  “I knew you wouldn’t want to be far from your family. As soon as I saw this house, I knew it’d be right for us. If you say yes, that is.”

  Her lips parted. After a second, she pressed a hand against her chest, over her heart.

  He touched the pocket of his uniform pants and felt the square item w
ithin. Reaching inside, he pulled out the small black box.

  “So what do you say, Peyton – will you marry me?”

  The radio on his shoulder crackled as an officer marked himself clear from the site of a traffic accident. Elijah turned the volume down, and it was so quiet on the sidewalk he could almost hear his own racing heart.

  “Yes.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

  He hadn’t even opened the box yet. He’d been so caught up in watching her face for any sign of her answer that he’d forgotten.

  “I hope you don’t mind that it’s modest.” He popped the lid, revealing a small single diamond on a golden band. “I wanted to have enough money set aside for a down payment on a house.”

  She took the box from his hands and held it up so that it caught the streetlight. “I love it.”

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. His heart was beating like he was high on amphetamines, and he’d never felt a deeper sense of victory. Burying his hands in her hair, he cradled her head as he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. Hard.

  “You should probably see the house before I make an offer on it,” he said when they finally pulled apart. “Make sure you like it, considering that it’ll be just as much yours as mine.”

  “I’d love to see the inside, but I already think you’re right – it’s right for us. I’ll be close enough to help out Madison and Jace whenever they need it. And we can always make improvements to the house if it’s less than perfect.”

  He pulled her closer against his chest. He didn’t care about the fact that he was in uniform, or that anyone could be watching. He kissed her again, slow and deep.

  She was his for life, and all because of a broken window. He wouldn’t have traded that call for anything; it was the highlight of his career and always would be – nothing could ever eclipse the day he’d met her.

  Thank you for reading Past Midnight.

  Things are just beginning to heat up on South Island. Book 3 is coming next.

  Want to know as soon as Book 3 releases?

  Join the South Island PD Series new release e-mail notification list here.

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  Also available in the South Island PD Series:

  Dark Blue (South Island PD, #1)

  Click title to view in the Kindle Store.

  * * * * *

  What did you think of Elijah and Peyton’s story? Please consider sharing your thoughts via a review.

  Love Southern men in uniform? Read on for a sample of my Lock and Key Series.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  I’m Ranae and I write what I know and love: adult romance with blue-collar heroes and real-life flavor. I write by day, bartend by night and also serve as a volunteer EMT.

  I live in the South with my man in uniform, who I married for the entertainment value. Just kidding – it was the handcuffs true love. ;) So far, our happily ever after includes a couple kids, German Shepherd dogs and a mutual appreciation of timely ‘that’s what she said’ jokes.

  In my free time I enjoy Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, outdoor adventures, good coffee and binge reading like there’s no tomorrow.

  www.ranaerose.com

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  Keep reading for a sample of Officer Next Door, Book 1 in my Lock and Key Series.

  Officer Next Door

  Lock and Key, #1

  How can anyone resist temptation when it’s right next door?

  Riley County North Carolina has a lot to offer: coastal views as far as the eye can see, and men in uniform who are even more gorgeous. Home to the most notorious prison in the state, Alicia’s new hometown is crawling with men who carry their own handcuffs and know how to use them – like Officer Liam Alexander, her one and only neighbor. After catching him out of uniform, she can’t resist pausing to enjoy the show. When Liam’s Southern charm drives him across the property line, life gets hotter than the Carolina summer could possibly account for. Unfortunately, there’s a dark side to life in the coastal haven, even with an officer next door.

  Coordinating special events at a historic – and supposedly haunted – plantation is enough to have Alicia questioning her senses and her sanity, but the spirits of the past take a backseat to a pair of escaped convicts who blaze a trail of mayhem across Riley County. Not even the most intense chemistry can survive the perils that make a sunny seaside town a dangerous place to be after dark … can it?

  Chapter 1…

  CHAPTER 1

  The rising sun burnt on the Carolina horizon like a jewel, causing the tidal mist to light up like it’d been set on fire. It was the most gorgeous thing Alicia had ever seen, besides her naked neighbor. The sight of him stripping down lit up the morning like nothing else could – not even the extra-bold, extra-large cup of coffee she clutched as she stared through her kitchen window.

  Everything about him was extra-large, too. She, however, was anything but bold.

  She’d die if he knew she’d been watching him like this for the past three weeks, ever since she’d moved in. Guilt surged through her system just like her daily caffeine infusion, but that didn’t keep her from enjoying the display, all that taut muscle and bare skin.

  Not even close.

  “Good Lord,” she sighed, to no one but herself. DC seemed faraway already; the big city had disappeared in her rearview mirror weeks ago to be replaced by real Southern heat and charm, two things her new neighbor radiated in spades.

  Not that she’d spoken to him much yet.

  There’d been the occasional hello when they glimpsed each other outside, usually coming to or from work. That was it, mostly because the sight of him in uniform had a way of leaving her tongue-tied, silenced by the guilty pleasure that struck her every time she looked in his direction. She couldn’t so much as glance at him without thinking about that uniform coming off in slow motion, revealing his perfect body.

  Maybe it was his fault for not closing the bathroom blinds, the ones that hung over the window directly across from the shower.

  Or maybe it was her fault for enjoying the striptease with her morning coffee day after day, saying nothing.

  Either way, she wasn’t complaining. Close-cropped dark hair, sun-tanned skin stretched over a six foot frame of solid muscle and an ass that appeared to be sculpted from granite, not to mention the amazing view when his back wasn’t to her: the vision had been seared into her memory, and it stayed with her even after he slung a towel around his hips and strolled out of the bathroom, disappearing from her view.

  That was her cue to gulp down the rest of her coffee and pull herself together before she rushed to the Wisteria Plantation House. She’d been hired there as the special events coordinator, had moved and reshaped her life around the new job, though as she drained her coffee mug, swallowing the bitter grit that swirled at the bottom of the cup, she was so dazzled by what she’d just seen that it was sure to be a challenge just to coordinate her hair and makeup for the day, let alone an outfit.

  Despite the sexually-charged fog her neighbor had left her in, she managed to brush on some cosmetic staples, twist her chestnut hair into a simple chignon and shed her robe, pulling on khaki pants and a purple blouse. As she dressed, she pretended that the brush of her own fingertips against her skin didn’t inspire imaginings of what it’d be like to feel her neighbor’s hands on her body. Lastly, she slipped on sandals, a pair with modest kitten heels that’d allow her to navigate Wisteria’s grounds without breaking an ankle.

  Or so she thought. When she finally walked out the door with her purse slung over her shoulder and a travel mug in one hand, she
tripped over the threshold and was launched forward through the muggy Carolina air.

  She windmilled, dropping her handbag but – miracle of miracles – managing to maintain her grip on her coffee.

  The mug was a fancy one that remained sealed until one pressed a button, freeing the flow of liquid within. As she bent to pick up her purse and then straightened, quickly smoothing her clothing, she realized that the anti-spill mug was the best twenty dollars she’d ever spent.

  Heat flooded her cheeks as she said a silent prayer of gratitude for spill-proof technology. Her neighbor was standing on the front porch of his bungalow-style house, a cute place painted a shade of moss-green that blended right into the wooded backdrop. Judging by the way he stared, frowning in her direction, he’d seen everything.

  “Are you all right?” His voice echoed across the few yards between them, sounding with a depth that sent a frisson racing down her spine.

  “Yes,” she called back, forcing herself to move, to descend the little flight of stairs that led down from her house, also bungalow-styled, but painted a fresh shade of blue that would’ve been invisible against a clear afternoon sky, had the towering pines not blocked out that particular view.

  “You sure? You’re limping.”

  Limping or not, she couldn’t stop staring. No longer naked, he was now just the opposite: covered from neck to toe in meticulously-ironed dark blue and black, his uniform gleaming here and there with flashes of metal – the silver shine of handcuffs and the badge he wore at his hip.

  There was just something about all that silver, giving her an excuse to let her gaze rove over his groin, sparking vivid memories and scorching heat.