Tucker: Texas Heat Book (Texas Heat Series)

Tucker was moody. He didn't want the damn badge that was now pinned on his jacket - but things were looking up. A tall, lanky blonde with shoulder-length wavy blonde hair in a come-hither-and-fuck-me red dress smiled at him and said, "Sheriff Stone would you mind letting me get a couple of photos of just you." "Naw Sugar, I don't mind ‘t-all." Thirty minutes later, he walked out of the janitor’s closet grinning and dropping a pair of ripped red lace panties in the trash. Sure 'nuff she had a fine ass, and he'd just proved it twice. Well, who knew? Maybe the perks of being Sheriff might make it almost okay. But hell, he didn’t want to be Sheriff – he didn’t want to be forced to enforce the very laws he’d broken over and over – and would likely be tempted to break again. His Mama had always said if trouble were within a thousand miles near him, it would be called a Tucker’nado. Damn good thing I’ve got friends in low places. He muttered to himself as he climbed on his bike, cranked it up, and left.