They tipped their shots in tandem and god, he was fast. Alyssa kicked back and chugged but Ethan blew past her and was gone, making short work of his tower, draining the final glass, a Guinness with a shot of whiskey, long before she even took her first sip of the yeasty brew.

"Wow," pushing the empties away from her, Alyssa sat back. "Okay. Lesson learned. I bow to your superior skills, Obi Wan."

"You want some water?"

"No, I'm good. I told you I have a high tolerance. Would take about three more of those to get me good and drunk." Pouring out a glass of Stella, Alyssa took a long swallow, rinsing all the booze out of her mouth with mild beer. "But talk to me a year ago? That was a different story."

She steered them into easy conversation about the gym—and he was stunned to hear that last the year she'd competed in fitness professionally. More than impressed with the photos, and trophies, she had to show for it. In the tiniest bikini he'd ever seen that did wonders to an already incredible physique, but he had to commend her perseverance. He knew she'd worked out but that kind of commitment demanded more than just physical strength, but mental fortitude as well. And a will of iron.

"Do you play pool?"

Loose and warm, Ethan set down his glass, the pitcher of Stella officially tapped out. "I've cleared a few tables."

"Good." Rising, Alyssa wagged a hand, waited. "Come on, tonight I'm your lady. Gotta keep me happy, don't you? Otherwise the vultures could swoop back in."

He thought about the ladies at the bar, already engrossed in a shiny, new catch as Alyssa's hand reached for his, her touch strong and determined. Sighing against the millions of reason why his logical, responsible self should decline, Ethan silenced it. What harm was a couple rounds? He'd come to relax, to have a night away from the stresses of his job. The last time he'd cleared a table was back in college and as far as he was concerned, it was long overdue.

He let her rack up, and gave her first break. Setting the cue ball in position, she took her stick in hand and leaned across the table.

Not looking at her ass required herculean strength, especially since what her body did to those jeans was all sorts of illegal. Being a man well versed in and charged with upholding the law, he ought to know.

Thankfully she broke quick and the balls cracked, firing in a starburst, spearing across the table. Four rolled cleanly into pockets. Pleased, Alyssa spun with a smile and set up to take another crack, claiming stripes.

She took three more passes before missing, leaving half the table for Ethan to come in and try to catch up. But his rust was showing and barely ten minutes later she'd effectively kicked his ass.

"Ouch, Sheriff. Losing to a girl doesn't look good on you."

"Shut up." Game face on, Ethan rolled up his sleeves. "Rack up. I break this time and we'll see who gets their ass kicked."

They played a few rounds as the dance floor opened. The music shifted into a punchy number with the smooth, heady notes that tugged on all the parts of Alyssa's body, compelling her to dance.

"C'mon, Sheriff, they're playing our song." Taking the cue from his hands, she hung his and hears on the wall before leading him along to the dance floor.

Something in him warned Ethan to dig in his feet. Resist. He didn't dance. Just like he didn't drink.

He was a badge and with the badge came responsibility. It wasn't like having a desk job where you opened a stack of folders, crunched numbers, closed the file, went home and that was the end of it. His kind of work demanded dedication. Long hours and longer days. There was no such thing as punching out or a day off.

But then she winked at him over her shoulder and Ethan realized she could have been leading him straight to Hell and he would have followed.

Bodies filled the dance floor but Alyssa knew how to negotiate around the crowd until she found a spot near the flashing screen streaming music videos. There they fell into an easy kind of rhythm. He might not dance, but that didn't mean he couldn't and kept up with her. Pleased with this discovery, she ramped it up, throwing in more fluid rolls and complicated movements that played on the intricate nuances of the melody.

Alyssa lost herself in that song. In that moment. Falling into the lyrics and heady beat. Tossing her hair, hands rolling in the air over head. She loved this. Craved this.

Transfixed, Ethan watched as she fell away into the music, lost herself. Her movements controlled yet free—effortlessly sexy without trying to be. The woman was nothing but pure, reckless energy. He'd never seen anything more alive. Or beautiful.

Taking her hands in his, their fingers linked—a spark shooting through his palms straight to his spine. She swayed into him, drawn closer, their arms falling to their sides, hands still fused. He wanted to pull her into his arms, tossing hers over his shoulder. He wanted to feel that body of hers against his, all those smooth twists and rolling hips.

God, he wanted...

A toss of her head sent her hair winging and it skimmed against his cheek, soft and fragrant. Turning into it, into her, his chin pressed to her brow, Ethan forgot everything and everyone, drawing her closer.

That seductive skim of her breasts against his chest, that sultry motion as her hips settled into the cradle of his, Alyssa's hands slid up and over his shoulders. Around his neck. If his eyes had been open he might have seen stars. Her touch dazzled him.

She smelled bright—all citrus and ocean. Her face angled back, her eyes closed and teeth sunk into that tempting bottom lip. Right there. A temptation his blood roared to sample. All he had to do was close the distance.

Take. Give.

The shattering of glass, a chorus of curses broke them apart and Ethan's focus shifted to the laser sharp senses of a cop. A fight broke out near the bar and a couple of guys were wailing on each other with fists and booze-soaked tempers.

"Wait here," Ethan instructed and pushed out through the crowd that receded in a circle around the inebriated idiots. Though he supposed the practical side of him knew he should be grateful, the irrational side—growing more obstinate by the day—was feeling pretty freaking irritated at the cosmic cock-blocking.

By the time he reached that ringed edge he could see the smaller of the two was putting up a good fight but clearly running out of steam. Wading into the fray Ethan wrenched the aggressor bodily off his opponent and braced himself between the two.

"He's had enough," Ethan said and flashed his badge hoping a show of authority would be enough to break things up without further incident. Blood streamed from the guy's split lip and rage sparked in his eyes, mad as a lanced bull, as they slid from Ethan's badge back up to his face. The punch caught him off guard enough to land a solid strike to his jaw that had him staggering back.

Hands on his knees, his own temper a swelling mess, Ethan shook the haze off before moving to retaliate when a blur sped past him. A blur that looked an awful lot like Alyssa all over the belligerent asshole in a flurry of swift, sweeping movements—her leg shot out, arms tangled around his neck, and the guy was down.

His torso locked between her thighs and his hand twisted in an arm-bar.

Ethan had to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"Hey Sheriff," she smiled up at him, straining against her opponents struggles, applying just enough pressure to make him squeal. "Got any cuffs on you?"

#

Twenty minutes later, Ethan rubbed his hands over his eyes, wracking his brain for the smallest, most minute detail to relate in his statement. After he'd secured cuffs on the aggressor, he'd placed a call to first precinct for a couple of units to come and haul the bastard in for booking as well as an ambulance to tend to the other idiot who was likely concussed.

"Reckless endangerment. Drunk and disorderly. Assault on an officer," Carlos ticked the items off on his notebook, smirked. "Sounds like one hell of a night." Beyond the windows overlooking the crowded street the patrol car lights flashed, the sidewalk dense with bodies as the bar emptied out thanks to the fight. Friends of either party along with a handful of bystanders had stayed on scene to add to witness testimony.

"Who knew Haven was so exciting." Alyssa smirked.

"Telling me. Alright, I think that's good for statements." Carlos folded his notebook shut, reached for Alyssa's hand. "I appreciate you stepping up and saving our Chief," he added, tossing Ethan a wink.

"Just doing my civic duty."

"And the local PD of Haven is much obliged."

"Funny," Ethan said. "Real funny. Are we done here?"

"As an overcooked steak," Carlos confirmed, returning his notepad to his holster. "I'm going to finish up with the witnesses. You gonna give Ms. Sloane a ride home?" The suggestive innuendo behind the statement was about as subtle as the fist he'd taken to the face earlier that evening.

"I think I should stay on deck, help clear up this mess," Ethan said, shoving his hands into his pockets otherwise he'd be the one to deck his partner for putting him on the spot. "I'd drive you home any other time," he added, with a sheepish glance at Alyssa. "But...you know, my job."

"Don't worry about me, Sheriff." She mimed a salute before sliding her hands into her back pockets. The movement pulled back her shoulders, accentuating awesome cleavage—innocently done but damned if it didn't have an effect. 'This wasn't a date. Consider yourself off the hook."

"Right. Yeah. Thanks." He watched her as she walked away; saying a polite goodbye to Carlos. Reminding himself that sending her off was the responsible thing to do. Even if his temper had burned off the lingering warmth of the booze, it wasn't like he could drive her home after the amount he'd had to drink tonight anyways. Laws had to be observed, especially when upholding them was his job. It meant always keeping a toe in line, at all times. There was no such things as 'off the clock' or checking out.

Besides, she was right. This hadn't been a date. Propriety didn't come in to play here, so why did that irk him? Because he'd started to think of it as one?

Christ, he'd even wanted to kiss her. Almost had.

"Lord have mercy, I think I'm in love," Carlos set a hand dramatically over his heart, angling to keep Alyssa's swayed hips in his sightlines for as long as possible. Then punched Ethan square in the shoulder. "Dude, were you on a date?"

"No."

"Hot chick. Drinking. Dancing. Playing pool." Carlos listed them off on his finger like he would infractions. "Sounds like a date to me."

"It wasn't a god damn date, quit breathing down my neck."

"Fine," eyes still glimmering with amusement he tossed up his hands. "Call it what you will. You need to go after her." Carlos nodded to the doors where Alyssa had exited.

Ethan gritted his teeth, hating that he wanted to do just that when really he should be more concerned with upholding his damn job like processing witness statements. "I've got a job to do."

"You seriously gonna let another guy get all up in that because of paperwork? Cause I bet you right now she's getting hit on as we speak. Might even go home with the fucker."

Blood rushed behind Ethan's eyes, a muscle ticked in his jaw. "Not my problem."

"Alright." Tucking his tongue into his cheek, Carlos changed gears. "Seriously, Chief, she's a single gal, a tourist and intoxicated—shouldn't someone make sure she gets home safe? Booze precludes judgment, after all."

And that was just the right fucking button for his colleague to push. What if she passes out in the cab? A voice within Ethan echoed. Or gave the wrong directions? Alyssa wasn't local to Haven. People got lost and confused all the time. He'd plied her with alcohol after all. If anything bad happened to her, that blame and responsibility would land squarely on his conscience.

A conscience that wasn't going to let up until he knew she got home safe and sound.

"You're right," he said and chose to ignore Carlos' flashing grin. All smug victory. "Call me if anything, otherwise I'll see you in the morning."

"Ten-four, Chief."

**FUN FACT**

This is the song I pictured  Alyssa and Ethan dancing to during this 'not a date' scene.

Votes are virtual hugs - if you enjoyed the chapter, be sure to show these two some love! :)