Sinners are Winners (KPD Motorcycle Patrol Book 5) Read online

  Lucky for me, I knew where Tad parked.

  Also lucky for me, I’d known how to hot-wire a car since I was ten.

  Another lucky for me, Tad lived fairly close to me, so I could park his truck in his driveway and hoof it the rest of the way to my apartment.

  All the while, the sexiest redhead in history stayed on my mind.

  ***

  Lock

  “I’m sorry, but with that fight, we won’t be able to use you in public relations.” Luke sighed. “I know it wasn’t intentional. And I realize that you did what you had to do. Unfortunately, life’s a bitch.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Does he still have a job?”

  That was my dad. Lachlan Downy, Senior.

  Always trying to protect me.

  I looked over at my father and said, “Why are you here?”

  My father turned his head toward me and glared. “Because I didn’t want you to lose your fuckin’ job.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “It looks bad when your daddy tries to fix everything,” I said stiffly. “I told you when I took this job with Kilgore that I didn’t want you interfering. I know you mean well, but this is a part of me growing up.”

  When I’d come home after my four-year stint in the Navy, it’d been with the understanding that if I came home, I would apply for KPD. I would go through the rookie training. Then I would do what needed to be done on my end. All without my father’s help.

  Because, despite being an adult, I was still looked upon as a kid. Downy’s kid. And a lot of them still treated me as such.

  “He has a point,” Luke said.

  Luke was my father’s best friend, and also the chief of police.

  “Fuck off.” Dad stood. “Fine, I’m going. But don’t give him shit duty, okay? He’s too good for that. You’re going to be wasting the kid’s talents if you do.”

  My father slammed out of the office moments later, and I looked blandly at Luke as if I was waiting for him to comment on it.

  He didn’t.

  “I have a new unit,” he said. “I’m not saying you did anything wrong. And this unit is brand new. Totally and completely a test experiment. The unit may disband in a couple of months if it doesn’t work like I think it will.”

  I raised a brow at him.

  “What is this unit?” I asked.

  “A motorcycle unit.”

  Chapter 1

  Why do ducks have to be in a row at all?

  -Lock’s secret thoughts

  Lock

  Six months later

  “God, this fuckin’ cake is fucking amazing.” I groaned, loving the way the creamy texture of the icing tasted. “Who made this?”

  Royal, one of my good friend’s fiancée, smiled.

  “I know, right?” Her face sobered then. “Her name is Saylor Spada. She has a business that she runs out of her house, Dixie’s Cakes.” She frowned. “I’m so sad that she’s leaving.”

  The thought of never getting a taste of a cake this good ever again really left me feeling sad.

  I was a huge fan of sweets. If I passed a bakery, there was about a ninety-nine percent chance that I wasn’t going to stop myself from running in and trying something inside.

  Hence the reason I ran five miles five days out of the week and lifted weights like it was going out of style.

  I had to double up my workouts and add on mileage just to fuel the habit.

  “I think I was supposed to pick up a cake from her once. I didn’t actually get the chance to get it because I was running late. Rune had to end up picking up her own cake.” I paused. “Why’s she leavin’?”

  Justice, my good friend and a fellow motorcycle patrol unit operator that sometimes partnered with me, sauntered into the room.

  He took one look at my half-eaten slice of cake and narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s my wedding cake,” he said.

  “Actually,” I corrected him. “This was a sample of the wedding cake. Since you couldn’t be here, I graciously volunteered to help her try it.”

  “I couldn’t be here because I was fuckin’ working,” Justice countered. “Hey, did you hear that we’re getting a new guy?”

  I forked up another bite of food and shook my head. “No. Why?”

  Weren’t we full?

  “There’s a lot of talk at the PD about him.”

  “What talk?” I asked.

  I hadn’t heard shit.

  “He’s ex-military.” Justice shrugged. “And that he was fucked up and crazy.”

  I snorted. “Exactly what we need. A crazy motherfuckin’ cop on a bike with a death wish. We’ll have another goddamn Speed-Trap on our hands if we’re not careful.”

  With that, Justice started laughing.

  “I didn’t get the chance to meet him before he retired, but I hear he’s a legend.” Justice picked his soon-to-be wife up into his arms and sat before pulling her back down into his lap.

  “Count yourself lucky.” I took another bite. “Speed-Trap gave my father a ticket. He gave me a ticket. Actually, I take that back. He gave me three tickets. And my father happened to be working at the time that Speed-Trap gave me those tickets.”

  Justice snorted.

  Royal, on the other hand, was nodding her head in commiseration.

  “No joke,” Royal said. “I don’t think there’s a single person in this town that was exempt from his attentions. Seriously, he was a jerk.” She smiled. “I remember this one time. I was new at driving. Was in the middle lane on the Loop. I was trying to get over to get into the turn lane, but each time that I did, the car beside me would slow down or speed up. Finally, I just got pissed and zoomed around his ass.” She covered her mouth with her hand as she started to laugh. “I remember looking over as I did that to see Speed-Trap staring at me with a look of disbelief on his face.”

  “Did you get a ticket?” Justice wondered.

  She shook her head. “No. The dumbass that wouldn’t let me over lost control of his vehicle and hit a turning car. Speed-Trap stopped to deal with that. I chose to count my lucky stars and leave before I got my ass handed to me.”

  She cut off another piece of cake, this one chocolate, and offered it up to me.

  I held out my plate for it and then moaned again when the chocolate flavor hit my tongue.

  “Goddamn,” I said. “It’s a damn shame that she’s leaving.”

  “Will she be able to make the cake?” Justice wondered. “If she’s leaving?”

  Royal nodded. “Yes, but she’s going to come over and make it at our house. I invited her to do that.”

  “Umm,” Justice said. “Not that I mind her using the kitchen, but we have a postage-stamp-sized kitchen. How the hell is she going to accomplish baking a cake that’ll feed seventy-five people, and a groomsman cake as well, in our tiny house?”

  Man had a point.

  “She can use my kitchen,” I offered. “It’s big. The only thing in the house that’s redone, too. She’ll have plenty of room.”

  Royal’s eyes locked on mine and she smiled. “Would you really be okay with that?”

  I shrugged. “As long as she cleans up after herself, I’m down for whatever. If I’m working, then one of you can let her in.”

  Royal clapped. “Thank you so much. This really means a lot to me. I was worried about the space issue, but she assured me she would be fine.”

  I took another bite of the cake.

  “Just make sure that she makes me a small one all for myself.” I paused. “One with chocolate icing and vanilla cake.”

  Justice snorted. “If I have to pay five hundred bucks for my cake, you’re not getting one for free. Trust me on that.”

  “Bummer.” I took another bite.

  “Are you working this Saturday?” Royal suddenly said, sounding worried.

  I shook my head. “No. I’m off for your wedding, remember?”

 
“Oh, good.” She looked relieved. “I had a minor freak out. You’re actually paired up with Saylor for the wedding.”

  “Your friend is charging you for the cake and she’s in your wedding?” I wondered, pausing with my fork midway to my mouth.

  Royal rolled her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t let her pay for it all herself,” Royal answered. “She offered to do it for free, but I wouldn’t let her do that. She’s a great friend, and I know that she can’t afford to make the cake.”

  “Is that what she does for a living?” I asked. “Make cakes?”

  Royal shook her head. “No. She’s actually an ultrasound tech.”

  “My mom’s an ultrasound tech,” I said. “They make good money.”

  Royal shrugged. “Apparently, she can’t find a job down here. She was able to find one back home, though, which is where she’s headed. Back to Benton.”

  I looked at Justice. “She lives…lived…where you lived?”

  Justice nodded. “Yeah. She actually grew up with me. It’s another reason she’s in the wedding and making our cake. Funny thing is, I didn’t even know that she was down here. She befriended Royal and was friends with her way before I introduced the two of them one day when I saw her in the grocery store.”

  Hours later, after a meal and another piece of cake that Royal had sent home with me, I couldn’t get the cake maker off of my mind. All I kept thinking about was never tasting her cake again, and for some reason, that really fuckin’ worried me.

  Like, almost to the point of distraction.

  Luckily, I had a busy week ahead of me, and by the end of it, I’d almost convinced myself that the cake wasn’t anywhere near as good as I’d made it out to be.

  Turns out, I was wrong.

  And the woman that made it? She was the biggest surprise of them all.

  Chapter 2

  Describe your sex life by using a movie title.

  -How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

  Saylor

  I tucked my hair up into a headband, making sure there were no fly-aways, and then got out of my car.

  Moments later, I was pulling my big box of baking supplies out of my trunk.

  As of last night, around eight in the evening, everything was packed and ready to go.

  When my parents arrived this weekend for Justice and Royal’s wedding, they would be taking what they could with them when they left.

  And it would all be over.

  My dream.

  My freedom.

  Fuck.

  I swallowed past a lump in my throat and hefted the box up in my hands, walk-waddling my way to the front door.

  I’d just pressed the doorbell button when I set the box down, then ran back to my car and slammed the trunk closed.

  When I turned back around and made it to about midway up the walk of the house that I’d be baking my cakes in, I stopped dead.

  Because it was him.

  My mouth fell open, and I stared in dumfounded shock at the man standing in front of me.

  “You,” he said, face neutral.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Me?”

  “The career ruiner,” he said.

  I deflated.

  “I ruined my own career if it’s any consolation to you,” I admitted. “I had two interviews lined up for the next week, and both had watched me punch my date in the nuts. They expressed their sincere apologies, but they couldn’t condone that type of behavior, and told me only after I showed up that I wasn’t a good fit for their company.”

  He opened his door wide and reached for the box that was at my feet.

  “Come in,” he said.

  Then he turned on his heel with my box and walked away.

  Biting my lip, I walked carefully into Lock’s house and closed the door softly behind me.

  Then I stared in awed silence.

  The outside of the house definitely didn’t match the inside—and I say that in a good way.

  The outside was rather boring and unassuming.

  But the inside was just…magnificent.

  It was all one big room.

  Everything.

  The kitchen ran into the living room that ran into the bedroom.

  There was a corner of the house that had a laundry room set up, and even beyond that, there was a shower and a bathroom.

  There was a single bump-out that I assumed was the toilet…and that was it.

  Holy shit.

  “Umm,” I said. “You have no walls.”

  He looked around as he put my big box on the ground next to his state-of-the-art kitchen.

  “When I was remodeling,” he said. “Quite a few of the walls needed to be repaired because whoever owned the place before me didn’t give a fuck. There were holes in every wall. Some of the studs were cracked. Hell, there was so much damage to the walls that it looked like they’d tried to take them all out with a sledgehammer.”

  “So you just decided to say fuck the walls and take them all down?” I asked.

  I mean, he’d done a good job. Honestly, it looked like a loft apartment in a house. It was cool.

  “Yeah,” Lock said. “I thought about trying to fix them, but I just put up beams instead. Saved me about thirty thousand bucks in the end. And since I live alone, and the house is too freakin’ small to be anything but a bachelor’s pad, I didn’t see anything wrong with it.”

  I didn’t either.

  “I like it,” I said. “The kitchen is beautiful.”

  Lock looked at his kitchen proudly.

  “I went to IKEA thanks to a fuckin’ friend who said it was ‘easy as hell,’” he said. “At first, I got a couple of quotes from the local places. Lowes. Home Depot. A couple of private contractors. And it was all fifteen grand or more.” He grimaced. “And on a new cop’s budget, that wasn’t going to cut it. I needed cheap. I’d already sort of gone over on the rest of the house. Then I decided to give IKEA a go. My mom said that she’d heard a lot of good things about it, how easy it was.”

  He started to laugh, and my brows rose.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I get there, driving all the way to fuckin’ Dallas with this big red farm trailer of my dad’s. Pull up, go inside, plan out this fucking kitchen. Pay for it.” He shook his head. “And as we’re leaving, my saleslady chick that’s been helping me the entire time says, ‘Oh, make sure you check to make sure all your stuff is there. Sometimes they forget to give it all to you.’” He rolled his neck out. “Well, I get out there, bring my trailer around, and then all this shit is brought out. Box after box after box. Five team members in total come out. Drop all of this shit at the end of my trailer and leave.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “It was all in boxes?” I asked. “I’ve heard some things about IKEA that were similar to that. Mostly just having to put stuff together and all…but even the cabinets were in boxes?”

  Lock nodded.

  “Even the cabinets,” he confirmed. “Each cabinet was in a box. Each cabinet door. Each pull. Each shelf. Each drawer. Then there were the hinges that came in about a million plastic bags. The fridge and the microwave were even in a box.”

  “How many boxes was it total?” I asked.

  He pulled out his phone and then started to flip through his pictures, not stopping until he was almost directly in front of me.

  Turning the phone around, I gasped at what I saw.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed. “That’s a lot of boxes.”

  The entire expanse of his trailer was filled.

  “That’s an eight-by-twelve trailer in case you’re wondering,” he said. “And the boxes totaled out at one hundred and ninety-three boxes. That’s not including door hinges.”

  I shook my head. “Did you make sure that you had everything?”

  He shook his head.

  “I started to make sure that I had it all, but the lady that was told to stay and help in cas
e I needed anything said they’d already checked and rechecked the list three times.” He paused. “And, just FYI, they didn’t have everything. I was missing two cabinet doors that they refused to give me because ‘I should’ve checked before I left the premises.’”

  I grimaced.

  “Yes, because making sure you have everything would’ve been so freakin’ easy,” I drawled.

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “And everything was in some weird sort of code that didn’t match up with the master list that I had in my hand. It was awful. And I’d just sort of loaded the boxes wherever they fit, as you can tell by the picture. When I got to checking shit off the list, everything was so jumbled up that I couldn’t make sense of any of it.”

  I ran my hands over the stainless-steel countertops.

  “Well,” I said. “Regardless of what trouble you went through, this place is really remarkable. You’ve done an amazing job.”

  He looked at the kitchen with pride.

  “It was rough at first, but honestly it really was easy,” he said. “My dad and I did it. We built the cabinets. Once we had that done, IKEA has this railing system that you just hang the cabinets onto the wall with. Everything was really user-friendly, to be honest.”

  I grinned. “Did y’all do the countertops, too?”

  He shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “Those were done by one of my dad’s buddies. I got them for a sweet deal.”

  I walked over to my cake box and started pulling out all my ingredients.

  “You come with your own cake pan?” he teased as he watched.

  I pulled out a large circular one and nodded.

  “More now than usual,” I admitted. “Normally I would only have the ones in here I’d be using for the day, but with me moving, I’d already packed everything in here that I wanted to make sure that I kept together.”

  There was a long silence. So long that I almost had all of my ingredients, utensils, and other needed essentials onto his amazing countertop before I looked up and saw him watching me.

  “Royal said that you couldn’t find a job here,” he said.

  I grimaced.

  “I had three or four interviews lined up in the upcoming months after I moved here.” I paused. “But then the fight at the baseball fields happened.”