On most days, Ethan considered himself a calm man. A patient man. A man with an iron grip on his emotions. On the back of a hard night of restless tossing and turning, his morning was all residential complaints and neighbourly spats

Pushed to his limits, Ethan was walking an emotional tightrope stretched thin as an eyelash.

As Sheryl had predicted, Wade had pitched an offer to Ji to settle outside of courts.

And by some sliver of a miracle, Ji had thought to call him first, putting Ethan in a position to at least try to talk the poor guy out of doing something stupid. Like signing on the dotted line. Getting out of his car, Ethan slapped the door shut hard enough to make the body rattle. Hong Shing's was still roped under caution tape and 'Closed for Inquiry' signs.

Ji Kim sat out front, head in his hands and his daughter Christine at his side. She smiled as he approached and leaned in to her father. Ji's head pulled up revealing a pale face and watery eyes.

"What's going on, Ji," Ethan asked, lowering to his haunches.

Ji's face crumpled, his shoulders sunk in to his narrow body. "Insurance stall again. Say we no up to date with paperwork. With premium."

"Bureaucratic bullshit," Christine seethed, then met Ethan's gaze. "Mr. Robinson came by early this morning with an offer from the Carter boys. Their father is willing to hand over fifty thousand dollars if we let this go away. Daddy wanted to take it. I told him to call you first."

"You did the right thing." As Ji started to silently weep, Ethan nodded at Christine. "Give me a sec with him?"

"Sure." Sweeping a hand over his back, she kissed her father's cheek and whispered something in Korean, before getting up to leave them alone.

"I got family," Ji said as Ethan claimed the seat next to him. "Bills. Christine in school. Michael need therapy. Money is tight with no restaurant. No income. Fifty thousand dollar they offer. Fifty."

Resting his forearms to his knees, Ethan sighed. It sounded like a sizeable amount of money, and he understood why it would have been enough to make Ji waffle, but he'd grown up in his father's construction business. Building homes and handling renovations for commercial properties. He knew the damage to the restaurant would soak up that amount in no time.

By no means was it enough to make this family whole. Not by a long shot.

"Give me a couple of weeks. I need you to trust me." It had taken a good twenty minutes along with a proffered shoulder for Ji to cry on before he agreed to leave the matter in Ethan's hands. And the weight of that man's grief settled over his shoulders, stoked his frustration to new heights.

Part of carrying the badge meant protecting the weak from the extortion of the strong; it was a role he took very seriously.

"There's the man of the hour. How'd it go?" Carlos popped out of his seat, a half-eaten burger on his desk—all grease and cheese atop a thick slab of beef. Reminding Ethan he had yet to touch anything aside from his morning oatmeal and protein shake at seven am.

"If I wasn't a cop I'd want to commit murder," Ethan grumbled, stalking to the kitchen in search of coffee. He went over the details of his conversation with Carlos, pausing only to gulp down his mug. The brew was acrid and stale but he was too impatient to brew a fresh pot.

"Poor dude," Carlos shook his head. Arms crossed and eyes distant. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Short of paying the fuckers a visit and shoving my boot up some privileged ass? Not much I can do besides ride the judge to move ahead with the hearing."

"Who's taking the bench on this one?"

"Harkin."

Carlos' face lit up like a summer bonfire. "Oh, well then you got this. He's a solid dude. Clean rep. Won't be bullied or bought."

Setting his mug in the sink, Ethan ran the taps, rinsing it out. He knew Harkin's reputation as well and had dealt with the man plenty of times in the past. He was an advocate for 'tough love' and had held down the bench for almost thirty years.

"Problem is the lawyer. Wade. Hate to admit it but the guy is good. He knows how to play the game better than I do. I'm treading water here, but he's swimming circles around me and knows it."

"Want me to take care of the sonofabitch for ya?"

A sound barked out him. Half laugh, half groan. "Don't tempt me." Clapping a hand on Carlos' shoulder, Ethan strode past him and out into the hall. "If you need me I'm in the office making a few calls."

"Ten-four, Chief."

Holed away, Ethan plucked his Rubix Cube off his desk, worked the puzzle with his hands. Though he never learned how to solve the damn thing, it never failed to calm him. The coloured patches were worn and faded. It had been a stocking stuffer from his parents somewhere around the age of nine. He'd kept it with him ever since.

Even carried it around in his backpack straight through to high school. Whenever his emotions ran too high, too hot, he'd pluck it out and let his fingers twist and turn until that pressure abated and his head cleared.

His first call was to Ji Kim's insurance company, where he tossed around his weight and authority to get answers behind the stall on the restaurants refund. Not that anyone was willing to be the least bit helpful. Or cooperative. But he pushed those buttons anyway, and then followed up with a call to the court house, leveraging any and every favour he had in his bank to speed up the pre-hearing with Harkins.

When his stomach couldn't take it much longer, Ethan ventured out of the office in search of something—anything—he could get his hands on and devour, when a sound caught his ear.

Soft, rich, smoky and sexy. A laugh. Alyssa's laugh. The sound of it jerked him down the hall where he entered the bullpen to find her sitting on Carlos' desk. An open box propped near her hip and he immediately recognized the logo. She'd brought donuts. The delicious gourmet variety.

More than a few of the guys in uniform swarmed around her like bees drawn to honey—and it wasn't because of the damn pastries.

"Hey, Davies," Carlos called out, a smirk on his face and hand resting casually on Alyssa's knee like it belonged there. "Come see what this Goddess brought for us."

"Seeing you boys in action last night, it was the least I could do." Alyssa's eyes lifted to Ethan's and something glimmered deep in there that had his belly snarling with more than just hunger for food. "Hello, Sheriff. Save you the salted caramel."

"Ms. Sloane."

Question flashed across her face as the use of her surname, but only for the barest of moments.

"Are you busy? I could use a moment of your time."

Ethan ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. Nodded. "I can spare a few. Follow me."

"Forget Davies." Carlos laid a hand over his heart as she slid off his desk, carrying a small plate with a caramel covered donut. "He won't appreciate you the way I do."

Rounding on his best friend, Ethan bared his teeth with a growl. "How about showing some appreciation to wrapping up that report on this morning's fender bender complaint?"

Carlos' lips pressed to a thin line, his cheeks flushing red as he swallowed his laughter, wisely holding his damn tongue though his eyes said it all for him.

Leading Alyssa to the quiet privacy of the Chief's office, he shut the door behind him, careful not to slam it with temper. It was bad enough being with her behind closed doors, the last thing he needed was to fan the flames of the gossip mill.

He watched as she paced from one end to the other, her eyes dragging over the simple, sparse space and he imagined what she was taking in. The dusty blinds and grey painted walls. He'd left the Chief's photos and framed pictures up on display, his academy credentials and awards.

She stopped by a weathered poster, skimmed a finger along a frayed edge.

"Didn't take you for a Clint Eastwood fan," she said, sliding her hands into her back pockets. She wore a long sleeve shirt, pale cream, it wasn't tight but with a body like hers it didn't have to be.

"I'm here in a temporary capacity. It's not my space to toss around throw blankets and potted plants," he said through clenched teeth. Rooted near the door so as to keep as much distance between them as possible. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to tell you I took you advice, patched things up with Eva this morning." She turned to face him, a smile spread across her features that punched him low and hard. She was a stunning woman most of the time, but now...she was radiant. "You were right about us being different people. And it was nice, getting to know my sister again. I came to say thank you."

She leaned back against the desk but didn't sit on it. Not the way she had with Carlos. And looking at her now, with those liquid brown eyes and killer body, that fucking stone glistening in the dimple of her throat—all Ethan wanted to do was push her back up onto it and feast.

"Great. Glad to hear it," he said, hoping to speed her along.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out tonight? Nothing crazy but—"

"No."

Her features fell, all confusion and concern. "Why?"

"This isn't the time or place to have this conversation." His hands curled into fists, hating that he wanted to go to her. To touch her and soothed that wounded look over her face. "So if you don't mind, I've got a job to do, Alyssa."

"Tell me, Sheriff," her gaze narrowed, tongue sliding into the pocket of her cheek, "are you always this touchy about a woman showing interest, or am I just lucky?"

"It's wrong."

"Why? What's so wrong about us being attracted to each other?"

"Because we're going to be family. Your sister is marrying my brother in a few short months. That makes this—all of this," he gestured between them, "inappropriate on every level."

Silence snapped, the quiet deafening as a whip until it was broken. Shattered by the melodic sound as she laughed. Actually laughed. Bent at the waist and face reddening, hands on her knees. A final guffawing slap of her palm against her thigh cinched his humiliation.

"Oh jeez, that was hysterical." Straightening, she brushed a hand over her cheeks, mopping up metaphorical tears. "And here I thought last night's jitters were actually about you being a gentleman but the truth is you're chicken shit."

Ice shocked through the heat. An explosive contrast that near split him in two. "What did you call me?"

"Did I stutter?" Gone was the humour and Alyssa squared off with him, toe to toe. "Yes, Eva is marrying Marshall, but us being in-laws puts us a long way off from ticking the Cersei/Jamie Lannister box . Last time I checked, we're not related, so if that's really your best excuse, I think that qualifies you for chicken shit status." Shaking her head with a grimace, Alyssa reached around him, wrenching the door open while he could only vibrate in stunned silence. 

"Call me if you decide to grow a set."

And shut the door behind her hard enough to rattle the blinds.