by Sadie King
Flint
Alpha Cops - Book 6
Sadie King
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William
When I escape for some air before the most important business call of my life, I don’t expect to find a woman dancing barefoot in my Zen Garden.
The last two years of my life have been spent working toward this business deal. But now, all I can think about is her.
Ariel
Dad’s drinking is getting worse, and it’s starting to lose him clients. So I step in and take over the gardening business. But who knew our most profitable client was such a silver fox?
He’s older than me, confident and handsome. The kind of man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to take it. And I think what he wants is me…
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Copyright © 2020 by Sadie King.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, companies, locales or persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
www.authorsadieking.com
Flint
Alpha Cops Book 6
Flint
When the manager of the swankiest restaurant in town starts getting death threats, I’m assigned to check it out. But she’s more concerned with the restaurant she manages than her own safety.
Luckily for her I’m watching the place, because I’ve known from the moment I first laid eyes on her curves that I’ll do anything to protect her.
Olivia
It’s my first time managing the restaurant on my own, so when I get a handwritten death threat slipped under my office door, the only thing I can think about is the scandal it will cause.
If only they hadn’t sent the burly Officer Flint to watch the place. He’s a distraction for my celebrity clientele and worst of all a distraction for me.
I need him to back off, but I can’t stop thinking about him backing me up against the wall…
Flint is a short, sweet, and steamy romance featuring an alpha male cop and a curvy younger woman.
Book six in the Alpha Cops series. If you love insta love, high heat, and a Happily Ever After, then this series is for you!
Each book in the series is a standalone. No cliff-hangers.
Contents
1. Olivia
2. Flint
3. Olivia
4. Flint
5. Olivia
6. Flint
7. Olivia
Epilogue
Get your insta-love fix!
1
Olivia
I rub my temples and ask the waitress to tell me again what the problem is.
“They say they ordered the potted crab, but I swear they didn’t. I’ve got lobster tails written down on my pad.”
“Get them the potted crab and put it on the house.”
“But they didn’t order it,” she says testily. “I never get my orders wrong.”
I give her a hard look. “How long have you been working here?”
“About six weeks.” She sticks her chin out and puts her hands on her hips. I’m sure I was never this impertinent when I was a waitress.
“I’ll give you a tip. The customer is always right.”
“But they’re not though.”
“Especially in a place like this.” I give her a pointed look. “Which table?”
“Table 19.” She indicates the direction of the table. “The man by the window.”
I follow her gaze, and my heart sinks. “You know that’s Ryan Harper, the guy who does the local morning radio show.”
Her eyes go wide. “I didn’t know that was Ryan Harper.”
“Yeah it is, and he’s got a lot of listeners in the morning. So whatever he asks for, he gets.”
She looks crestfallen, and I suddenly remember what it was like when I first started waitressing.
“Don’t worry too much about it,” I say kindly. “You go put the order in with Chef, and I’ll speak to Ryan.”
“Okay. Thank you.” She skips off to the kitchen, and I give a big sigh. The last thing we need is Ryan badmouthing us on his radio show. I’m about to go over there when I hear my name called.
“Olivia.” It’s Alistair, the maître d’. “We’ve just had Savannah Adams turn up, and there are no tables.”
“Oh crumbs.” Savannah’s a reality TV show star and known for making a scene. I rub my throbbing temples as I scan the busy restaurant. “Anyone close to finishing?”
“Table three’s eating dessert.”
“Offer Savannah free cocktails at the bar while we get her table ready. Tell table three there’s a free round of drinks at the bar for them. Make it coffees if they prefer. Whatever they want, but get them off that table. Offer to pay half their bill if we need to.”
He looks at me, surprised.
“We can’t have Savannah Adams badmouthing this place,” I snap.
“Of course.”
“And make the cocktails look extravagant. Something she’ll want to put on Insta.”
He nods and hurries off. I head over to Ryan Harper’s table to smooth things over there, ignoring my pounding head.
He’s a pleasant man and accepts my apologies about the mixed-up order. I’m just turning away when I hear Alistair calling me again. His voice has a distressed tone to it that makes my heart sink. I spin around.
A burly looking man in a police jacket is striding across the room toward me. The maître d’ is following him, a horrified expression on his face.
The diners are looking up with interest, wondering as I am why the world’s tallest, broadest-shouldered cop is striding through the most fashionable restaurant in town with a glower on his face.
“Is everything okay?” asks Ryan excitedly, obviously looking for a bit of local gossip to share on tomorrow’s show.
“Every thing’s perfect,” I say, giving him my widest smile. “He’s probably here to make a reservation for the chief. Enjoy the rest of your meal.”
I turn away just as the officer reaches me.
“Let’s go to my office,” I say, trying to sound casual. I cast a smile around at the diners who are watching curiously, hoping for a scandal.
The cop doesn’t say anything for a moment and just stands there staring at me. I feel heat rising on my neck under his gaze.
“It’s this way,” I say, moving off pointedly, and he seems to jump to attention.
I turn to Alistair. “Can you watch things on the floor?”
“Of course.” He straightens his waistcoat and smiles at a table of women.
“Follow me,” I say to the cop.
We go past the bar and through the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. Delicious aromas accost us until I push the door open at the back and show him through to the tiny managers’ office.
Once inside, I shut the door behind him and lean against it for a moment with my eyes closed, glad to have a moment of quiet.
“Are you okay, ma’am?”
I open my eyes and take in the cop in front of me. He’s got to be the tallest man I’ve ever seen, with cropped dark hair and dark eyes to match. When I saw him in the restaurant, I was annoyed they hadn’t sent someone more discreet looking. Now that I’m alone with him in my office, I’m glad they
sent this goliath. There’s something about his sheer bulk that makes me feel small and delicate, and there aren’t many men that make a big girl like me feel delicate.
“Are you okay?” he repeats.
I snap out of my reverie. “Sorry.” It’s the busiest night of the week, I’m a waiter down, and it’s my first time managing alone while the owners are away. “I’m fine,” I lie.
He looks at me intently, as if he knows I’m not fine.
“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what happened.”
It’s a command, and yet I feel a gentle edge to his voice too.
Suddenly feeling exhausted, I sink into the office chair.
“I take it you’re here because of this.” I pull out the crumpled piece of paper from my pocket.
I hand it over to him and our fingers touch briefly. A spark shoots up my arms, and I pull back quickly.
I scan his face wondering if her felt it too. But he’s focused on the note, his face pulled into a deep frown. Of course he is, I think to myself. It’s not every day you see a death threat.
2
Flint
I scan the note, the feeling of uneasiness growing.
“Where did you find it?” I ask.
“Someone slipped it under the door.”
“This office door?” She nods, and I can’t help noticing the stray piece of hair bobbing up and down around her face.
Ever since I walked into the restaurant and laid eyes on the curvy manager, I’ve been finding it hard to concentrate on the job. I long to reach over the desk and tuck that stray hair behind her ear. Instead I make myself focus on the note.
It’s written in a scrawling hand, like someone’s deliberately trying to disguise their handwriting. The paper is lined and is a single sheet ripped off a notepad. But it’s the words that are chilling.
I’m coming for you Olivia
“I take it you’re Olivia?”
She nods, and I realize she’s shaking. Her bravado in the restaurant has crumbled, and now she looks scared and vulnerable.
I have to stop myself from coming around the desk and taking her in my arms. Instead I sit in the chair opposite her and put my hand on her trembling one.
She starts at the contact but leaves her hand there. It’s warm in mine, and after a few moments I feel the trembling stop.
“I’m going to have to ask you some questions,” I say gently.
She nods. “Whatever you want to know, officer.”
“Call me Flint.”
“Flint,” she says. And my name spoken on her lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
I take out my notebook. “When did you find the note?”
“It was this afternoon. I was in the office making some calls. One of the waiters called in sick, so I was phoning around to find a replacement.”
I nod encouragingly. “What time was this?”
“Would have been about five?”
I scribble on my notepad as she keeps talking.
“After making the calls, I saw the note on the floor, like it had been pushed under the door.”
“You didn’t see it being pushed through?”
“No, I was sitting here on the phone. It was only when I stood up that I saw it.”
“You didn’t hear anyone at the door or walking past?”
She shakes her head. “No. You get the noise from the kitchen in here, so I didn’t hear anything.”
“Is there anyone who may wish to do you harm?”
She thinks about it for a moment and then shakes her head. “No one I can think of.”
“How about an ex-boyfriend or partner?”
She looks down quickly. “I don’t really have any exes,” she mumbles.
“I’m sorry I have to ask, but could it be a current boyfriend?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she says quickly, and I can’t help the feeling of relief that washes over me.
“How long have you been manager here?” I ask, changing my tack.
“About three months, but I’ve worked here for about six years. I started as a waitress, worked my way up to head waitress, then maître d’, and now manager.” There’s pride in her voice and she straightens in her seat as she talks, regaining some of her confidence.
“Where are Sal and Jenny?” I ask.
She blinks in surprise. “You know the owners?”
I smile. “It’s the most prestigious restaurant in town. It’s my job to know the owners.”
“Oh.” Her surprise turns to dismay, and she slumps again.
“What is it?”
She sighs. “It’s the first weekend they’ve left me here on my own. Usually they’re around keeping an eye on things. But they wanted to go on this retreat, and I convinced them that I’d be okay on my own.”
She looks like she’s about to cry, and I take her hand again.
“Hey, it looks like you were doing a pretty good job out there.”
She smiles thinly. “Thanks. But getting a threatening letter isn’t okay. If the press gets wind of this...” She trails off.
“Who else knows about the note?” I ask.
“No one. I called the station straight away.” She suddenly looks worried. “Our reputation is very important. You’ve seen the kind of clientele we have in here.”
“I understand. We can be discreet with our investigation.”
She thinks for a moment. “Actually, Officer Flint—”
“Just Flint,” I correct her.
“Sorry, Flint. I’m having second thoughts.”
“About what?”
“I called the police because I was scared and it felt like the first thing I should do, but on reflection I don’t think I want this to go any further.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
She looks uncomfortable. “I mean that it seems obvious it must have been one of the staff. They had access to the office, and they’ve used a piece of paper from one of the waiter pads.”
“That’s good detective work,” I say with a smile.
She doesn’t smile back. “I don’t want you interviewing the staff. They’ll blab to the press.”
I lean forward on the desk. “How am I supposed to catch this person if I don’t interview the staff?”
“I can’t have this getting leaked. I called you because I was scared, but now I want to withdraw the complaint.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “You’ve had a personal threat against you. I’m not letting this rest.”
She folds her arms across her ample chest, all traces of the vulnerability gone. “I don’t want this investigated.”
I sit back and take a moment to look at her. God, she’s gorgeous. Not just her full curvy figure, but her long hair tied back, thick pink lips, and the determined set of her chin. She’s got attitude and ambition, and damn, that’s sexy to see in a woman.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll drop the investigation.”
She relaxes her arms. “Thank you.”
“For now.”
Her eyes go hard again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean until you can talk to Sal and Jenny and let them know about it. But in the meantime, I’m not leaving you unprotected.”
“But...”
“No buts,” I interrupt. “I’m going to watch this place every night that you’re working.”
Irritation flashes across her face. “I can’t have you scaring away the customers.”
“I’ll be discreet.”
She snort laughs. “No offense, but you’re hardly discreet. Customers see a big cop like you hanging around and they’ll wonder what’s going on.”
“I’m pretty good at fading into the shadows when I want to.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“Look, there’s no way I’m leaving you unprotected after getting a note like that. I’ll be watching this place, and I’ll be making sure you get home safely every night whether you like it or not.”
She stands up, and h
er arms are folded again.
“Fine. But if I get any complaints, you’re going to need to leave.”
“Fine,” I say.
“Now if you excuse me, I have a restaurant to run.”
I stand up and put my notepad away.
She holds the office door open for me. “You can go out the service entrance.” She indicates a door down the corridor. I watch her hips swing as she heads back through the kitchen, and I can’t help smiling to myself. I already know I’ll do anything to protect this woman and anything to make her mine.
3
Olivia
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a drink?”
I smile fondly at Bevan, the last customer left in the restaurant and one of our regulars.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid. I’m beat.”
“Don’t work too hard,” he says, sliding off the bar stool. If you were my woman, I wouldn’t let you work at all.”
I laugh politely. Bevan’s a good customer, but he does have some old-fashioned ideas. He lives alone and stops in two or three times a week to have dinner on his own.
“Goodnight, Bevan,” I say, holding the door open for him.
“Good night, sweetheart. See you again soon.”
I shut the door after him and lock it. It’s just me and Alistair left.
He comes from the staff room wearing his jacket. “I’m done for the night.”
“See you tomorrow.”
I let him out and lock the door after him, then walk through to the back office.
