Jake’s hand slid to the top button on his jeans. Pop!
“I’ll just…” Zoë choked. “I’ll just turn around.” How the hell could she pose as a newlywed with this guy?
“Uh, you do that…” he mumbled.
She spun around on the changing-room bench so fast she got a splinter in her bottom through her underpants. Blushing, she managed to scramble into the yoga pants, jacket and shoes. Three seconds tops. But she could still hear the sound of his unzipping and rustling and stripping behind her.
Torture, plain and simple.
Fully clothed, Zoë stood. “Ready?” she inquired trying to sound casual, while the image of Jake’s naked chest and his hand snaking over his zipper remained branded in her brain.
Her gaze skittered over to his side of the room. Wowza.
Jake didn’t wear underwear. No tighty whities. No boxers. Nada. And he had a great butt. One of the all-time-great butts. She was going to be haunted by it for the rest of her life.
Zoë flushed. His bare pecs and abs, his butt, all within the past five minutes.
How was she ever going to survive this fake honeymoon?
Dear Reader,
As we kick off a special anniversary year for Temptation, I’m thrilled that my three TRUE BLUE CALHOUNS get to share in the excitement!
I love a heroic hero, and I don’t think you can do better than men who are willing to take the heat, whether that heat comes from family, job or…love. So I’ve had a blast working with this trio of brothers who happen to be Chicago cops.
There’s big brother Jake, definitely True Blue in Hot Prospect. When by-the-book Jake runs into Zoë Kidd, he doesn’t realize that she just may be the perfect foil for him. But it’s when you throw curves at a straight arrow that the fun begins!
And then you’ll meet middle brother Sean, more of a rebel, in Cut to the Chase. This detective has an uncanny knack for piercing to the heart of things, but Abra Holloway, on the lam and in trouble, is in no mood to be discovered or uncovered.
Last up is baby bro Cooper, who starts Packing Heat in order to wrestle with uncompromising FBI agent Violet O’Leary. Violet’s handcuffs may just come in handy when it comes to apprehending her man.
Lust, larceny and lawmen in love! What could be more fun?
I hope you’ll visit my Web site at www.juliekistler.com to drop me a note or let me know what you think. And I hope you’ll fall a little bit in love with the TRUE BLUE CALHOUNS, just as I did!
Best,
Julie Kistler
Hot Prospect
Julie Kistler
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
1
JAKE CALHOUN CAST a jaded eye at the noisy tourists milling around Chicago’s Navy Pier. Lots of people. But not the one he was looking for.
“Where are you, Dad?” he muttered. Damn it, anyway. The last thing Jake needed to be doing this fine summer day was playing spy games with his dad. Especially when he was supposed to be halfway to Wisconsin by now, halfway to an actual vacation, his first in a long time.
But Jake knew the drill. Duty. Loyalty. Responsibility. Those were the words he lived by. So when his father had called and growled, “Meet me at Navy Pier. Ferris wheel. Now,” Jake knew his vacation would have to take a back seat.
“Meet him at the Ferris wheel,” he grumbled. “What sense does that make?” He ground his hands into the pockets of his jeans, casting a quick glance up at the carefree people laughing and waving as they rolled around on the big ol’ wheel. He shook his head. Nope. It made no sense.
“Where is he?” Jake’s frown deepened as he cased the pier one more time. This was so strange. And so very unlike his father. Since when did gruff, by-the-book Michael Calhoun, one of five deputy superintendents of police for the city of Chicago, in line to be First Deputy, set up secret meetings at Ferris wheels in the middle of the day? And since when did Michael Calhoun need his son’s help for anything more important than painting the garage or driving Grandma Calhoun to the dentist?
None of this made sense. Jake’s feeling of foreboding just kept inching higher. And it didn’t get any lower when he finally caught sight of his dad. “A coat?” Jake said out loud. “It’s got to be a hundred degrees out here, and he’s wearing a freakin’ trench coat.”
Add up the coat, an equally ridiculous hat pulled down over his brow, and his studious attempt to appear nonchalant, and the senior Mr. Calhoun might as well have stenciled “suspicious” on his forehead. He was sitting on a bench, staring out into Lake Michigan, looking like any run-of-the-mill criminal waiting to make a drop. Sheesh. The man was a career cop. He knew better.
“You’ve even got a briefcase,” Jake said in disbelief as he neared his dad. “What are you doing?”
“Ssshhh. Sit down. Don’t look at me. Don’t let on you know me.”
Jake folded his arms over his chest. “Aw, c’mon, Dad. Whatever game you’re playing, it’s not working.”
His father snapped,