Guilty of Love: A Sweet Southern Romantic Comedy, E-Book

I’m caught between a good cop and a bad boss.

In my time working for Smart Money Credit Union, I’ve fallen in love with everything about Apple Cart County . . . except my boss. I learned the hard way that he only cares about power, money, and his pet bunny. And it turns out I’m not the only one suspicious about Samuel Covington.

Sheriff Bradley Manning asked if I’d help keep an eye out for any unusual behavior at the bank. With his deep brown eyes and Southern drawl, I’d agree to help him with anything within the confines of the law.

So of course I said yes.

As I spend more time alone with Bradley, my crush develops into real feelings. But with the possibility of our branch manager laundering money and Bradley up for reelection as sheriff, a lot more is at stake than my personal feelings.

Between becoming his informant and managing a fake reelection campaign as a cover-up, the lines between us get more and more blurred. That is until we cross any sliver of a line left when we’re alone inside an elevator.I’ve dreamed about making out with a hot guy in an empty elevator, but never imagined it would happen inside a two-story Baptist church.

Now that I know the attraction is mutual, we have to first find out what Samuel is up to and ensure that Bradley stays sheriff before we figure out what’s next for us.

Chapter One

Bradley

“Hey, big dog. You’re one good-looking son of a gun.”

I lean away from the rearview mirror and slide on my sunglasses. Nothing like a little pep talk to keep me going.

Even though I’m running for reelection unopposed, there’s a tiny fear that if I
don’t look, act, and sound heroic and confident at all times, I’ll somehow lose.

I hop out of my Chevy and slam the door. One thing I did right first time around was not print a year on my political signs. The local printer was kind enough to add “re” in front of “elect” for a decent cost.

“Morning,
Bradley.”

I
turn to Adrianne walking toward her salon.

“Morning,
Mrs. Culp. Mind if I put one of these signs in the grass beside your shop?” I
wave a sign above the truck bed for her to see.

“Not at all.” She half smiles, then unlocks the side door to her building.

“Thanks,” I call out as she goes inside.

I grab a rubber mallet and get to work. Her salon is in the middle of downtown—prime real estate. It’s also a lot easier to spot than across the road at Paul’s place. He has all sorts of junk parked out front and rarely weed-eats. It looks like a tornado hit a pigsty.

I stand to admire my sign and bump into something.

“Pardon me.”

“Howdy, sir.” I nod to a round fellow with rounder glasses.

He straightens the briefcase in his hand and pushes the glasses up the bridge of
his nose. “Do you happen to know if Misty is here?”

I raise one brow. “She’s still married to Woody, right?”

He looks a little too sophisticated for Misty’s taste, but you never know with
her.

“I just need to make sure she hasn’t come to work yet.”

I shrug. “Only one to come through was Adrianne.”

“Thanks.” He wipes his brow and continues to the front of the salon.

I watch him enter, then grab several signs from the bed of my truck. I’ll put a
few more in front of some storefronts down this row before moving toward the
Pig, then the bank.

The good thing about a small town is it doesn’t take long to cover downtown. The bad thing is I’ll also need to put out signs on a lot of rural roads to attract
attention.

Town starts to come alive as more people enter stores and open their doors to the public. I greet everyone and make it a point to ask the owners’ permission
before sticking any stakes in grass, even though the sidewalks are public
property. It’s just the gentlemanly thing to do.

When I’m down to one sign, I head for the bank. I straighten my hat and smooth my shirt before going inside. I hope Ashley’s up front for two reasons.

One: I don’t like the man in charge here. At. All.

Two: I like her. A. Lot.

As luck would have it, I open the door to her beautiful blonde head. The sunlight
trails from outside, outlining her form like a sexy angel.

I shake my head to keep from getting struck by lightning at that thought. Maybe angel wasn’t the right comparison to use. I’ll go with Taylor Swift in concert.

Yeah, lit up on stage in all her glory.

Her eyes shift from her computer screen as my boots hit the tile floor. Slowly her
gaze meets mine, and she smiles. My cheeks involuntarily draw upward into what I imagine is a goofy grin.

She has that effect on me.

“Morning, ma’am.” I tip the brim of my hat.

“Hello, Bradley. How can I help you?”

Let’s see. You can give me your
number, go to dinner with me, marry me . . .

“Can I stick my sign in your grass?”