Hit and Run, PASS, Book One

Returning home to Grand Junction would not have been Rosie Perkins’ first choice, but with her mother no longer able to take care of herself, it’s the only one she has. As is working the night shift at a local hotel to bring in a much-needed income.

Rosie juggles to keep all the pieces of her life together and has no room to add anything more. One morning after a long shift, when she witnesses a hotel guest crash into a dumpster, her careful control starts to unravel.

Security specialist, Jake Hutchinson, has his hands full protecting the arrogant lead actor of a movie being filmed in town. Since the production company and crew arrived at the hotel, the entitled star has been nothing but trouble.

The only thing that can improve his mood is the occasional nightly glimpse of the redheaded housekeeper.

Until he finds himself trapped between desire and duty.

He watched as a small older Ford SUV with a disabled tag dangling off the rearview mirror, pulled into the parking lot; a wild riot of auburn curls peeking over the steering wheel. With the driver’s door on the opposite side of him, he didn’t have a good view of the driver, but when he saw a deliciously ripe-looking woman topped with the vivacious head of hair come from around the car pushing a contraption loaded with cake boxes, it took him a minute to realize she was actually pushing a walker. Obviously disabled, she was balancing the cake boxes on the seat of the walker while trying to get to the door. With a quick look in the direction of the counter to find no one aware of her approach, he quickly slid out of the booth, and with a few large strides of his long legs, made it to the door before her. Just as he pulled it open, he spotted the stack of boxes starting a sideways slide, and heard a loud yell.

“Oh, shit, no!”

“I’ve got ‘em,” he said, startling the woman, whose bright blue eyes shot up to meet his over the pile of what he assumed were the pies. Momentarily stunned by the fiery look she threw him, a slow grin spread over his face when he recognized it as defiance.

“Thanks, but I can handle it.” She all but snapped at him. “I may look decrepit, but I think I can still handle a door. I’m not that old.” Followed by a mumbled, “Not yet, anyway.” As she tried to wiggle past him through the entryway.
Now full out grinning at her bluster, Gus couldn’t help himself.

“Wasn’t you I was worried about. I’ve been waiting for my pie, and figured that’s what’s in those boxes. Just hungry, I guess…”

Throwing him another killer look, before making her way to the end of the counter, she yelled, “Arlene. Pies.”

“Hand them over darlin’. Have someone waiting for a slice already.” The tall blonde coming out of the kitchen motioned to where he sat back down, with a good view of the ‘pie-lady’. Well, her nicely fleshed-out backside, anyway.

He never had any particular preferences one way or another when it came to women, or what appealed to him. Some women just did, as did whatever attributes they came with. Her ass was luscious and ripe, getting a welcome rise out of him. He better stop looking at her ‘attributes’ right this minute, before his well-worn jeans showed the evidence of his ‘appreciation’. Somehow, he figured the pie-lady wouldn’t take too kindly to his dick pointing in her direction.

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