For a woman he can’t touch, he’ll turn Hell inside out.
An FBI Psychics Novel
There’s only one reason Jay Roberts would set foot in a middle-of-nowhere town like Hell, Georgia. She’s got a bone to pick with her sort-of boyfriend. They only met online, but things got hot and heavy before their cyber link went silent.
She’s here to get in his face for an explanation. But no touching. Her psychic abilities make physical contact…complicated. Yet something about this relationship made her think things would be different. She’s not in Hell twenty minutes before bad vibes have her skin crawling.
Corruption has stained the very fabric of Linc Dawson’s town, and now it’s stolen something very dear to him. The last thing he has time for is nursing Jay’s broken heart.
But Jay isn’t going anywhere. Not only because she’s not giving up on him, because she’s got access to the kind of backup nobody wants on their bad side. And Linc discovers the woman who’s afraid to touch him could actually be his best chance. At salvation, at hope, at life. Maybe even love…
Warning: This book contains a not-so-naive virgin, a pissed-off former cop, lots of frustration, if you know what I mean, and more trouble than either of them know what to do with.
Linc’s heart, so bitter and broken over the past few months, gave a slow, ragged beat in his chest. Part of him wanted to go to his knees in front of her and wrap his arms around her waist, press his face to her belly. She would listen. She would talk him through this and he wouldn’t hear any of the false sympathy, the false hopes—there was no hope. He was a cop. He knew what was going on.
The other part of him just wanted to tell her to get her ass in the car and go back to her nice, safe little job in Dallas.
He had no place for her in his world now.
Although he had to admit, she didn’t exactly fit into the safe little picture he’d had in mind. She’d sent him a few pictures and they’d Skyped, but she didn’t quite fit the images. The blonde hair was right, but those pink and blue stripes didn’t fit. Her face was the same—heart-shaped with the most fuckable mouth ever—and he wanted to grab her up against him, lose himself in her.
The look in her eyes, somehow both wary and challenging, had him keeping his distance.
She was trouble in a pair of combat boots. He’d figured that out even as he’d caught his first glimpse of her through the plate glass window. He hadn’t recognized her from outside.
The soft, throaty voice—a little too rough, a little too raspy—stroked against his senses like a caress and he wanted to kick everybody out of the gas station and ask her why she was here.
Instead, he forced his mind away from the skin-skimming clothes and shifted his attention to Lloyd and his pack of ass-kissing hyenas.
She’d been about five seconds away from a whole world of trouble and he suspected she knew it. The new sheriff wouldn’t get off his ass to scratch it and city police force consisted of exactly two full-time cops and one part-time. None of them were worth the price of two postage stamps.
The best thing Linc could do was get her out of here. It seemed like the rest of the world had forsaken this town. Maybe God had too. He’d had a hard time during his tenure as sheriff, dealing not just with the assaults, but also with the disappearance of several local girls and a handful of unusual suicides. But he hadn’t let that deter him. He’d had a mission and he’d see it through.