By:  K. BROMBERG  Ongoing
Language: English
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"From the New York Times bestselling author, K. Bromberg, comes a new standalone in her Everyday Heroes world that proves true love will always stand the test of time. “I hate you. I never want to see you again.” Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville—at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade, ring in my ears every time a townsperson brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again. Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons—sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer. But Grant is off limits because he knows too much about my past. But I’m drawn to him. That damn uniform of his doesn’t hurt either. It’ll be my downfall. I know it. What’s one night of sex going to hurt . . . right? *** I’ve always loved Emmy Reeves. That’s why I’m shocked to see her all these years later. The shy girl I once knew is all grown up. Adventurous and full of life, she owns my heart now, just as much as she did back then. Convincing her of that is a whole different story. I’ll give her the one night she asks for—like that’s a hardship—but when it comes to letting her walk away after, she has another thing coming. There’s no way in hell I’m letting her go this time without a fight."

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76 Chapters
CuffedBy K. Bromberg Copyright 2017 K. Bromberg ISBN: 978-1-942832-08-9 Published by JKB Publishing, LLC Editing by AW EditingCover Design by Helen WilliamsCover Photography Wander Aguiar All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
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PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS OF K. BROMBERG “A homerun! The Player is riveting, sexy and pulsing with energy. And I can’t wait for The Catch!”—#1 New York Times Bestselling author Lauren Blakely  “K Bromberg does it again! The Player is everything you want in a romance; sexy, sweet, and amazingly perfect.”—USA Today Bestselling author KL Grayson “An irresistibly hot romance that stays with you long after you finish the book.”—# 1 New York Times bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout “Captivating, emotional, and sizzling hot!”—#1 New York Times bestselling author S. C. Stephens “Bromberg is a master at turning up the heat!”—New York Times bestselling author Katy Evans “K. Bromberg is the master of making hearts race and pulses pound.”—New York Times bestselling author Jay Crownover “Sexy, heartwarming, and so much more.”—New York Times bestselling author Corinne Michaels “Super charged heat and full
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 My tummy feels icky, and if I look at Emmy, she’ll know I’ve been crying. She’ll know I told after I promised her I wouldn’t.We even pinky promised on it.So, I focus on it instead.The glue on my hand and how weird it feels. It’s crackly and tight and kind of cold. Kind of like what I imagine alien skin would feel like.She’s gonna be mad at me.Except their skin would be green. Or purple.She made me promise not to tell.Mine would be green. Emmy’s would be purple.She’s my bestest friend in the whole wide galaxy.Her and her yucky purple.How could I not say anything?Malone Family Rules: If someone is hurting, you help them.My dad’s temper if I break a rule is much worse than Emmy’s, though.I’m only trying to help her.The speaker in the room’s ceiling crackles, and we all look up. The rest of the class is hoping for an interruption—an announcement for the winners of spirit day, a surprise assembly, anything—but I don’t glance up. All I can do is hold my br
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 “10-4, Officer Malone.”Her voice, smooth as goddamn silk and full of suggestion comes through the radio. I’m ready for the ration of shit from Nate when I turn his way. His grin is wide as he just shakes his head and chuckles.“10-4, Officer Malone,” he mimics. “Can I give you a side of blow job with that all clear?”“Fuck off.” I sigh.“Dude, if she talked to all of us like that, the whole force would be walking around with permanent hard-ons.”“Liv does have a great voice,” I murmur as a cheer goes up in the crowd to the left of us, drawing my attention. Drunken guys in board shorts, who are all sporting fraternity tattoos, are taking note of a group of tipsy girls with a skin-to-clothing ratio that should be illegal.“A great voice. Yeah. Right. I’m sure that was exactly what you were focusing on . . . because hell if that body of hers isn’t a fifteen on a scale of one to ten.”“I’d give it a twenty.” I shrug, remembering all too well what she loo
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 The engine’s roar fills my ears.I run through my mental checklist. Finish. Then begin it again as the rush of cold air dances around me and whips against my cheeks. My earplugs shift as I slide my jaw out of habit to equalize the pressure in my ears.I glance over to where Leo is double-checking his own gear. “Head up. Wings out!” I shout over the roar. He gives me a thumbs-up, and with that, I loosen my grip on the door and dive headfirst.My breath catches. My blood is flooded with adrenaline. My body spirals and hurtles and tumbles in a seemingly endless free fall.But there is silence in my head. Peace. A bliss I can’t find anywhere else as I gain control of my dive, stabilize, and master the arch of my body. The ocean in the distance and the rolling green hills of northern California laid out like a topography map beneath me are as stunning as the first time I saw them like this.There are no demands from Chris and his bank.There are no duties left to fulfill for T
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 “You smell like smoke.” I glance over to my little brother Grady and make a show of sniffing the air before bringing the beer to my lips.“Occupational hazard,” he says before lifting his chin to where our dad is attempting not to burn steaks on the grill while he shoots the shit with Grayson, our middle brother. “We were doing drills today over at the old gravel yard. I guess I didn’t wash all the smoke off.”“Hmm,” I murmur, part listening, part lost in thought.“So, you gonna tell me why you bailed on coming over on the Fourth? I hope like hell she was worth missing out on Mom’s apple pie.” He chuckles. “I guess you enjoyed a different kind of pie, huh?”“You’re the firefighter, why don’t you go help Dad put those flames out.” Diversion intended to get conversation away from my sex life, but I’m not sure he’s going to buy it. My brothers are nosey fuckers.He sits there silent for a moment, and I can feel the weight of his stare as I look at the flames flare up on the o
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 What am I doing here?I glance up at the sign that reads: Doggy Style, and I know this is a mistake right off the bat. I knew she seemed quirky, but this already sounds like a bad episode of COPS. Police officer stumbles unknowingly into a prostitute parlor.Walk away.I take another step up the stairs.This is a mistake.I knock on the door and am greeted with the baying of dogs and nothing else. No sound of a normally functioning business. No phones ringing. No customers talking. Just a yellow clapboard house I’ve probably driven past a hundred times and never noticed before.Good. She’s not here. Curiosity satisfied. Time to go.And just as I begin to walk away, I hear the pad of footsteps on the raised floorboards followed by the sound of a woman’s voice shushing the dogs.“Officer Sexy,” Desi says, giving me a wide smile when she opens the door.“Ms. Whitman.” I nod.“To what do I owe this pleasure? Let me guess. You came here to convince me that beards and tatto
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 “Promise me this barbecue is not one of your elaborate ways to set me up with one of your friends.” I take a bite of the carrot dipped in ranch and fight the urge to gag. Nope, still don’t like vegetables. “Why do people eat this shit?”“Because it’s good for you,” Desi says as she hums around her bright pink kitchen with a black-and-white checkered floor like she’s freaking Martha Stewart.“No. Sex is good for you. Chocolate is good for you. Wine is even better for you. They feed the soul. This crap,” I say and hold up the carrot, “only serves to make you miserable.”“Says the woman who could eat nonstop every day and maintain her to-die-for figure.” She rolls her eyes as she wipes her hands on a dishtowel.I reach for the dish of M&M’s and grab a handful with a grin. “Sucks to be me.” I finish chewing them as she mixes something in a bowl. It looks nasty now, but I know will taste like heaven when she’s done with it. It always does. “I’m serious, Des. You know I love
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 “No way in hell.” Grant laughs, and I hate that everything about the sound pulls on me to pay attention when I don’t want to.“C’mon. A bunch of us jump. We could teach you,” Leo says with more slur than conviction after whatever round of drink he’s on.“I don’t trust anyone enough, let alone myself, to jump out of an airplane and rely on them to know the parachute is for sure going to deploy.”Chicken.I don’t say the word aloud, but I think it, and for some reason reverting back to sounding like a kid makes me feel a smidgen better.“Sounds like you have trust issues,” Leo says.“Yeah, how is that, Grant?” Desi pipes in while I just keep my head down and focus on picking at my nail polish. “You can risk your life every day doing your job, but you’re scared to skydive?”“My partner has my back,” he states.“So, you trust your partner, but you wouldn’t trust a skilled instructor to tandem jump with you? They control the jump, pull the chute, and make sure you land safel
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 “None for me. Thank you, though.” I put my hand up to cover my glass as Chris tries to pour wine into it. Again.“C’mon, Em. Just because we’re working, doesn’t mean we can’t relax some and have a drink.”His cologne overpowers the scent of food in the restaurant, and there’s a soft whistle in his nose every time he inhales. I try not to focus on it, but now that I’ve heard it, I can’t unhear it.“Where were we?” I clear my throat and lift the profit and loss statement we were talking about before the waiter came with the bottle of wine. This, of course, came after the three glasses he had already had.“I forget. Where exactly were we?” he says in a playful voice as he scoots closer so we’re shoulder to shoulder. Again.Trying the same move I’ve done several times tonight already, I shift in my seat to put some distance between us. When I do, Chris reaches out and puts his hand over mine.Alarm bells sound off in my head, but I do my best to appear unaffected. It isn’t th
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