Kayleb: Alpha Cops - Book 4 Read online

  Kayleb

  Alpha Cops - Book 4

  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.

  Cover designed by Designrans.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, companies, locales or persons living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  www.authorsadieking.com

  Kayleb

  Alpha Cops Book 4

  Kayleb

  She’s the sole witness to a gangland murder, and they’ll stop at nothing to silence her. My job is to keep her safe and keep her hidden.

  She doesn’t like being caged, even if it’s for her own good. And the more I get to know her, the more I’m falling for her.

  But will my feelings get in the way of my judgement just when she needs me the most?

  Bella

  I’m stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with some jumped-up cop who thinks he’s Rambo. There’s no Wi-Fi, and my phone has been confiscated. This is officially the worst week of my life.

  But with nothing to do but get to know each other, this safehouse could turn into a romantic hideaway.

  But when the murderer jumps bail, I’m terrified. How well can Kayleb really protect me against the head of a criminal family?

  Kayleb is a short, sweet, and steamy romance featuring an alpha male cop and a curvy younger woman.

  Book four 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. Bella

  2. Kayleb

  3. Bella

  4. Kayleb

  5. Bella

  6. Kayleb

  7. Kayleb

  Epilogue

  Get your insta-love fix!

  1

  Bella

  I grab a stack of t-shirts from my drawer and throw them into a bag.

  “Hurry now, Bella. You’ve got two minutes.”

  I stuff more clothes into my bag, then race to the bathroom. My hands are shaking as I throw items into my bag; deodorant, a hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste.

  “Time’s up,” says the policewoman.

  “Just one more thing...” I hurry back to my room and stuff my laptop and charger into the back of my backpack.

  I grab my phone, and the cop reaches a hand out to stop me.

  “No phones.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t take your phone. Too easy to track.”

  She must see the panic in my face, because her expression softens. “I’m sorry. It’s for your own safety.”

  “But how will anyone know where I am?”

  Her face hardens again. “That’s the idea. No one’s meant to know where you are.”

  I leave my phone on the bedside table and follow her out the door. There’s an unmarked car waiting, and I catch a glimpse of the driver’s thick tattooed arms resting on the steering wheel.

  I slide into the backseat, and he locks eyes with me in the rearview mirror. He’s got deep grey eyes, calm as the ocean and tough as steel. His penetrating gaze seems to see right inside me to the panic that’s bubbling just below the surface. For a moment my anxiety subsides, and I feel calm.

  Then I’m being pushed down onto the seat. “I need you to lie down,” the policewoman says firmly. “I’m sorry. It’s for your own protection,” she says, as she throws a blanket over me.

  The fabric’s scratchy, and I feel claustrophobic with it pulled over my head. The car door slams, and we pull away. As the car speeds into the night, I lie still and try to calm my racing heartbeat.

  I don’t know how long I doze for, but when I wake up the car’s going fast, like we’re on some kind of highway. I poke my head out from the blanket.

  “Can I sit up now?” I ask the driver.

  “No,” he says.

  I wait for more, but it seems like that’s the only response I’m going to get. I close my eyes again and try to sleep.

  When I wake the second time, the car has slowed and the road is bumpy. I need to use the toilet, and every time we go over a bump I feel the pressure against my bladder.

  “I need to pee,” I say to the driver.

  “You need to hold it.” His voice is hard and deep and commanding. There’s no arguing with this guy.

  “Can I sit up yet?”

  “No.”

  “Are we almost there?” I know I sound like a whiny child, but I can’t help it. I need to pee, and my arm has gone numb.

  “I can’t say.”

  “Where are we?”

  “I can’t tell you that.

  I breathe out in exasperation. “Can you tell me anything?”

  I feel like I can detect a smile in his voice. “If you lie on your side, it’ll relieve the pressure on your bladder.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” I mumble. I roll over on my side, and it does feel a bit better.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, rubbing the pins and needles out of my arm.

  “Special Detective Blount.”

  “Don’t you have a first name?”

  There’s a silence, and I wonder if he heard me.

  “Kayleb,” he says eventually.

  “I’m Bella.”

  “I know who you are.”

  Of course he knows who I am. I’m the girl who accidentally witnessed the most notorious murder of the decade.

  I close my eyes again, but scenes from that night swim before my eyes.

  I was riding my bike home from campus one evening. Sometimes I take a detour that goes down by the river. It’s a scenic route, and there are usually not many cars around.

  That evening I got a flat tire. I pulled my bike onto the side of the road near a thick copse of bushes.

  I heard raised voices, and I peered through the trees. Two men were arguing, and the one facing me raised a gun and fired.

  I hid in the bushes, too terrified to move, until it was dark. Then I called the police.

  What I didn’t realize was that I’d witnessed a gangland murder. The guy who pulled the trigger was Victor DeMarco, the head of a criminal gang. The police hadn’t been able to touch him before this, and my testimony will put him away for good.

  Up until today, he didn’t know there was a witness. But somehow he found out, which is why I’m being driven to a safe house in the middle of the night.

  I push the thoughts out of my head and try t
o get comfortable as we race through the night.

  2

  Kayleb

  We finally pull up outside the safe house. Not that it’s a house, more of a cabin. A wood cabin in the middle of the forest miles away from the nearest town. He shouldn’t be able to trace us here.

  I turn the car lights off, and we’re plunged into darkness.

  “Wait here under the blanket,” I say, getting out of the car. I walk the perimeter of the cabin, treading softly and stopping to listen to the sounds of the forest.

  Once I’ve made a circuit, I unlock the door and go inside. It’s one room with a bed in the corner. There’s a fireplace with a couch and a kitchen area with a small table and two chairs. A door leads off to a bathroom.

  I check every corner, but it all looks in order. No bad guys hiding under the bed. I get the generator going and head back outside.

  I feel relieved being here. She hasn’t got her phone. There’s no way she can be traced. All I’ve got to do is keep her safe until the trial starts next week.

  I go out to the car and open the back door.

  “It’s safe to come out now.”

  She sits up, and even in the dark I’m struck by her beauty. When I first saw the photo of her in the briefing room, I almost couldn’t breathe.

  She’s stunning. Long, dark hair framing a round face with pale blue eyes. Now as she sits up in the car, I can see the curves of her full figure, just the kind of shape I like.

  I offer her my hand as she gets out of the car. It’s warm and soft, and she clasps onto me as I lead her through the dark.

  “Are we allowed some lights on?” she asks, as she stumbles against me.

  “Not ‘til we’re inside.” I steady her with my arm and lead her to the porch steps.

  We get inside, and I flick on the light.

  “This is it?” she asks disapprovingly, her hands on her hips.

  “Yup, this is it.”

  Her eyes take in the bed in the corner. “But there’s only one bed.”

  “I’ll sleep on the couch.” It’s only a two-seater, but it’ll do for me.

  She frowns. “I need to use the restroom.”

  I show her the bathroom and then grab her bag and the box of supplies out of the car.

  She’s shivering when she comes back. I have a sudden urge to put my arms around her, pull her close and keep her warm. Instead I kneel in front of the fireplace.

  “I’ll get the fire going.”

  “Thank you,” she says, hugging herself.

  “You hungry?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “I might go straight to bed. It’s the warmest place to be.

  She pulls some pajamas out of her bag and goes back into the restroom. I try not to think about her getting changed as I stoke the flames.

  As she climbs into bed, I sit watching the fire. I find a spare blanket in the cupboard and try to get comfortable on the couch. It’s too small, and I can’t find a good angle.

  After a while I give up and roll onto the thick rug on the floor instead. It’s hard on my back, but at least I can stretch out.

  I wait until I hear her breathing change, so I know she’s asleep. Then I let myself drop off too.

  I’m up early the next morning to check the premises. I do a circuit outside, but there are no footprints apart from our own. I’m coming around the front of the house when I hear the front door bang.

  I swing myself up over the railing, one hand on my gun in its holster, and grab the person standing on the porch.

  Bella gives a shriek of surprise. I take my hand off the gun but don’t release my hold on her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I say.

  “What are you doing?” she says in indignation.

  I’ve still got her pinned to me, and her body feels so good pressed against me that I don’t want to let her go.

  “I just want to go for a walk, see where we are,” she says.

  “Well, you can’t.”

  I drop my arm, and she backs away from me. I’m ashamed of myself, coming across as a brute, but I’ve got to keep her safe. I need her to understand the dangers.

  “You can’t go wandering about. You’re here for your own protection.”

  “So I can’t leave the cabin?”

  “Not unless I’m with you.”

  “Oh great.” She puts her hands on her hips. “You’ve got to chaperone me?”

  “Yes. You can be in the cabin or on the porch, but you can’t go any further than that.”

  “This is a prison.”

  “This is protection.” I know I’m coming across as harsh, but I need her to understand. I take a step towards her. “So go back inside the cabin, and let me protect you.”

  She turns on her heel and prances back inside.

  “And don’t slam that door,” I call after her. She turns and gives me a pointed look as she delicately shuts the door behind her.

  I’m still staring after her when the door flies open again.

  “What’s the Wi-Fi code?” she asks, clearly annoyed at having to speak to me again.

  I chuckle. “There’s no Wi-Fi out here, doll.”

  She gives me a horrified look. “I want you to know that if I could I’d slam this door right now.” Then she disappears back inside the cabin.

  I laugh to myself. Not only beautiful, but she’s got one hell of an attitude on her.

  3

  Bella

  I spend the day propped up in bed with my laptop on my knee. With no Wi-Fi to distract me, it’s the perfect time to get on with my school assignment.

  I’m in my last year of a creative writing course, and the final assignment is to write a novel. It’s what I’ve been working towards for the past three and a half years.

  I’ve made copious character notes and scene plans, but whenever I sit down to write, the words won’t come.

  It’s a romance novel, inspired by the ones I love to read, always with a dashing hero and a sprightly heroine. The trouble is that I’ve never been in love. Sure, I’ve had boyfriends, but I can’t say I’ve ever felt that all-consuming feeling that’s supposed to be love.

  I open the document to chapter one and read over the paragraph I wrote when I last worked on it.

  I frown. It doesn’t read right. It’s supposed to be the scene where we meet the hero for the first time, but instead of dashing he comes across as arrogant and stupid. I sigh as I hit delete until the cursor is flashing on an empty page.

  I stare at the page for a while. This is usually the point when I go online and watch cute animal videos. But with no Wi-Fi, there’s no escaping the page now, no way to procrastinate.

  Instead I put the laptop down and go over to the kitchen. I grab a packet of chips out of the supply box and break them open. I look out the window as I shove a chip in my mouth and nearly choke. Kayleb is chopping wood with his shirt off.

  Sweat gleams off his body and as he lifts the ax, the muscles on his back ripple all the way from his shoulders to the cleft disappearing into his tight jeans. He swings the ax down, and his tattooed arms flex as the wood splits in two.

  I watch him, my hand paused in the chip bag, as he methodically raises his arms and brings them down, smashing the wood. I feel my heart start to race and a delicious heat spreading between my legs.

  For a moment I stare, mesmerized, listening to the thwack thwack of the wood.

  I drop the chip packet and head back to the bed. I grab my laptop, and my hands fly over the keys as I rewrite the opening scene, this time knowing that I’ve got it right.

  I spend most of the day tapping away at my laptop. Kayleb comes and goes, bringing in wood, checking the generator and water supply, and doing whatever else you do when you’re protecting someone in the woods. I’m too focused to pay him much attention.

  The light is starting to fade and my fingers are numb when I finally hit save and shut the laptop. I’ve written four thousand words today, and I know it’s good stuff.

 
I head over to the supply box to see what I can find for dinner. I can see Kayleb from the window sitting on a chair on the porch looking out into the woods. Keeping guard I presume.

  I feel bad for how I treated him this morning. This can’t be a good gig for him, babysitting a grumpy student. He doesn’t mean to be my jailer; I know he’s only trying to keep me safe.

  As I watch him on the porch, I decide I’m going to make him a nice dinner, a peace offering. If I’m going to be stuck with him for the next week, I may as well make an effort to be nice.

  I rummage through the supply box to see what there is. I pull out tins of beans and sliced ham. I screw up my face. It’s not exactly gourmet stuff.

  There’s a sack of potatoes and some pasta, some bread, and everything else is canned.

  I get some water on the boil for pasta. It takes ages on the little two ring stovetop cooker, but finally it’s bubbling away.

  There’s a can of tomatoes and some tuna and canned sweetcorn. I mix them all together with the pasta and pop it in the tiny oven. There’s no cheese to sprinkle on top, but it will still be a fairly decent pasta bake.

  When it’s done, I dish it up on two plates and take it out to the porch.

  “I’ve made dinner,” I say, offering up the plate.

  Kayleb eyes the plate in surprise. “You made this from the supply box?”

  “Sure did.” I take a seat next to him.

  “And here I was going to eat a can of cold beans.”