His Curvy Outcast — Mary E. Thompson

The last thing I needed was a cop on a power trip trying to make a name for himself. I knew I was an easy target. No one in town liked me. But did he have to give me a ticket? And worse, did he have to buy me a drink? Yeah, because that was going to make it all better. I shouldn't have had the drink. I shouldn't have talked to him. Or let him kiss me. Or let him walk me home. I knew I was playing with fire because he was gorgeous and snarky and the first person in far too long who acted like I mattered. It was a mistake to let him in, to open myself up to him. But by the time I learned just how big of a mistake, it was far too late to keep myself from wanting something I'd never get from him. From wanting more.