Tipsy

  TIPSY

  (a Take It Off novel)

  ***This is a new adult contemporary novel and contains sexual content and graphic language. It is not intended for young adult readers.***

  Julie Preston is an artist. But her canvas isn’t paper or clay. It’s hair. She spends her days coloring, blow drying and styling her clients hair at the Razor’s Edge salon. Julie is also annoyed. She went out on a date and had a great time, gave the guy her number and the jerk never called.

  So when he waltzes into the salon and sits down in her chair she briefly considers strangling him with the pink cape she fastens around his neck.

  Too bad she can’t.

  Blue Markson, the guy who never called, is a police officer so causing him bodily harm would be a first class ticket into the slammer. Just looking at him again makes Julie forget why she was mad in the first place, but she’s already learned that Blue is nothing but heartache. So when he starts coming around, acting like he hadn’t made her stare at the phone for days, she tries to brush him off.

  Only…

  Her life is about to blow up in her face, she’s about to get caught up in a sticky web of crime and the one guy who can help her is the one guy she vowed never to trust again.

  Praise for the Take It Off series

  "I love all of Cambria's books, but Torch is one if my favorites by her so far. Holt and Katie have chemistry like no other. There was a perfect mixture of steam, passion, and romance."

  —New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Shanora Williams for TORCH

  "Cam was so swoon-worthy. He was everything I look for in a book boyfriend. He was hot, sexy, had a little bad boy edge, but he was also protective and loving. The mystery was also a great element. It kept me flipping the pages quickly to figure it out. And when it was revealed, it was shocking."

  —Bestselling author Amber Garza for TEASE

  "All hail the new queen of HOT romance! My new favorite romance of the last year. I adore this book. Nash & Ava… such a great story. I think I may have a new book boyfriend. This is a true romance story, but it mixes in danger, deception, & desire."

  —Author Kieran Thorne for TEMPT

  “TEXT kept me up late turning pages. When I wasn't reading it, I was thinking about it. With lovable characters and a tight suspense plot, this is a great weekend read!”

  —Bestselling author Ella James for TEXT

  “A new storyline that grabs you from page one and twists you into an action-packed ride full of danger and romance!”

  —USA Today bestselling author Tabatha Vargo for TEXT

  "Let me be clear—of the 1001 ways to die, burning would NOT be my first choice. However, a house consumed with flames and no chance of saving yourself equals RESCUE FANTASY FULFILLED."

  —Scandalicious Book Reviews for TORCH

  TIPSY

  Take It Off Series

  CAMBRIA HEBERT

  TIPSY Copyright © 2013 CAMBRIA HEBERT

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions

  thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief

  quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Published by: Cambria Hebert

  http://www.cambriahebert.com

  Interior design and typesetting by Sharon Kay

  Cover design by MAE I DESIGN

  Edited by Cassie McCown

  Copyright 2013 by Cambria Hebert

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

  either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used

  fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

  business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Other Book by Cambria Hebert

  Heven and Hell Series

  Before

  Masquerade

  Between

  Charade

  Bewitched

  Tirade

  Beneath

  Renegade

  Heven & Hell Anthology

  Death Escorts

  Recalled

  Charmed

  Take It Off

  Torch

  Tease

  Tempt

  Text

  Table of Contents

  Contents:

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Tricks

  Acknowledgements

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to those I consider part of my team. These are the people who make my books readable, pretty, and better than I could ever make them alone. They make time out of their busy lives to edit, format, and design for me. This business can be a tough one, and I consider myself beyond fortunate that I have these reliable core people behind me to make sure my books are the best they can be.

  Regina Wamba – Photography and Cover Design.

  Cassie McCown – Editing

  Sharon Kay – Formatting

  I’d also like to dedicate this to my two consistent beta readers who always make time to catch any last minute errors and read through my drafts—sometimes at quick speeds.

  Melissa Stickney

  Stephanie Nicole Garza

  TIPSY

  PROLOGUE

  Julie

  How they met…

  Morning from hell. I was not a morning person. I never was and I never would be. Getting up in the morning is pretty much the worst part of my day. Trying to drag myself out of a way comfortable bed where I’m surrounded by fluffy pillows and soft bedding is pretty much the epitome of torture.

  Add an alarm that never shuts up, cold tile in the bathroom that feels like tiny needles being jammed into my skin, and you have the makings for a very bitchy Julie.

  Thank goodness I lived alone. There was no way in hell any man could go up against the morning sunshine I projected.

  To make matters worse, I was running late. I hated being late. If I was late to work, it would throw off every appointment I had that day, and I would spend every single hour trying to play catch-up.

  I rushed around trying to get ready, pulling on a cotton dress because it was a hell of a lot harder to try and match clothes together when I was stumbling around like a living zombie. (Wait. Zombies didn’t live. They were dead.) Then I cinched a red patent leather belt around my waist on my way down the stairs. I would have to do my eye makeup at work and I would also have to touch up my hair.

  Glancing at the clock, I sighed and gave a longing glance at my kitchen, where the coffee was kept.

  I didn’t have time for caffeine. I felt sorry for everyone who had to deal with me.

  I grabbed my purse and rushed out the door and climbed into my little silver car. The air was already thick and I knew soon the summer heat was going to bore down on this town like a hungry woman at Waffle Hous
e.

  I turned out of my neighborhood and tore down the street, letting out an unladylike curse word when I got caught by a red light.

  When it turned green, I sped around the corner and glanced at the clock. Five minutes.

  Flashing blue lights had me glancing in the rearview mirror. More unladylike curses exploded from my mouth as I pulled to the side of the road and prayed the cop would speed by.

  Of course he didn’t.

  He pulled to a stop behind me.

  I so did not have time for this.

  Why is it that police officers always picked on the innocent people who rarely ever speed, yet they never pull over the people who are complete assholes on the road all the time?

  Maybe I would ask him.

  He knocked on the window and I sighed. I wasn’t even going try to talk my way out of this one. It would be safer if I kept my mouth shut. It certainly would be cheaper.

  I pressed the button and my window rolled down.

  “License and registration, please,” said a voice from above.

  I let out another huffing sigh and leaned over, digging around in my bag and glove compartment for the items, and thrust them out the window while staring straight ahead. I could practically feel all the other drivers laughing at me as they drove past.

  It really didn’t improve my caffeine-deprived mood.

  A few minutes later, the police officer leaned down in the window. “Did you know you were violating the speed laws, ma’am?”

  Forget being quiet. I couldn’t do it. I opened my lips to give him a less-than-polite answer and turned my head.

  Every single word fled my brain. I mean my vocabulary literally ran away. I couldn’t even blame them. There was no word that could compete with such a face.

  His eyes were such a deep blue that they held me captive in a single glance. He had a masculine and angular face, with a straight nose, full lips, and a cleft in the center of his chin. He was clean shaven and smelled so good that I actually leaned closer.

  Who in the hell actually leaned closer to an officer who wanted to give her a speeding ticket?

  He was lean but not too thin, tall, and did his uniform justice. I was a little embarrassed to admit the gun strapped to his hip turned me on.

  And then I saw the handcuffs.

  I didn’t know I was a dirty ho until that moment. I imagined all kinds of inappropriate things involving those handcuffs.

  He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Ma’am?”

  I glanced at him, once again struck by his eyes. I felt the need to lean even closer, but I stopped myself.

  “What?” I said, the word coming out a little harsher than I intended.

  I swear he stifled a smile. “You were speeding…” he said, trailing away.

  I couldn’t stop staring at the little dent in his chin. My tongue would fit in it perfectly. I cleared my throat. “I’m late for work.”

  The statement brought me back to reality. “Shit!” I yelled, hitting the steering wheel. “I’m late for work.”

  I winced and turned back to him. “Are you going to arrest me now?”

  He laughed. He actually threw his head back and laughed.

  God, he was sexy.

  “Where do you work?”

  “Right up the street at Razor’s Edge.”

  “You make a habit out of speeding through an intersection?”

  I made a frustrated sound. “Only on days I don’t get my coffee, have to get out of bed at ungodly hours and…” Oh, crap, there I went again. I looked at him meekly. “No?”

  “No coffee, huh?”

  “No,” I grumped.

  He sighed and straightened. He pulled a pad out of his pocket and then proceeded to write on it. I wondered how much this was going to cost me.

  A minute later, he handed back my ID and registration. I put them away and turned back to collect my sentence.

  He was putting the notepad back in his pocket.

  “Isn’t that for me?”

  He leaned back down in the window, bracing his forearms on the side of the car. “Nope. It’s for me.”

  I felt my forehead crease. “I know I’m not properly caffeinated, but don’t people who speed usually get tickets?”

  “Usually,” he agreed.

  I lifted my eyebrows. I was back to being mute. He was incredibly close.

  “I’m going to let you off with a warning this time.”

  I made a sound that might have come across as an agreement.

  He grinned. “On one condition.”

  I scowled. “I read an article about this once. Officers of the law letting people go in exchange for… favors.”

  He chuckled. “Is that so?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not that kind of a girl, Officer Shady.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and I felt my cheeks heat. That’s good, Julie. Insult a cop.

  “Are you the kind of girl who would go on a date with a shady police officer?”

  My hands broke out in a clammy sweat. Did he just ask me out? “That depends,” I said saucily.

  What the hell is wrong with me this morning?

  The rate my day was going, I was going to shave off someone’s eyebrow and turn their hair green.

  “On?”

  “How many times this admitted shady cop has pulled women over to ask them out on dates.”

  He flashed a smile and my heart stuttered. “Never.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that, but I wanted to. “If I agree, will you let me go to work?”

  “Yep.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He smiled again and straightened, putting on his hat. “Watch your speed,” he said, tapping the side of my door with his fingers.

  “Don’t you want my number?”

  He leaned down once more. “Already got it. What do you think I was writing down?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s abuse of your job.”

  He chuckled. “You gonna call my boss and rat me out?”

  Hell no, I wasn’t. “Maybe.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said softly.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because, Julie,” he drawled, and I swear my name on his lips made me lightheaded. “You want to go out with me.”

  I did. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. He was already suffering from an oversized ego. “You going tell me your name?”

  “Blue,” he said, stepping back from my car.

  I’d never heard that name before. But considering the pull of his eyes, I understood it.

  “Well, Blue, I guess I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

  “Oh, you’ll see me. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  Tonight? He worked fast. Maybe he should get a speeding ticket.

  I waited until he was in his cruiser before I pulled out onto the road. He pulled out behind me and followed my car the entire way to the salon. When I pulled in the lot, he kept going and I blew out a nervous breath.

  I needed to revise my earlier statement. It was no longer the morning from hell.

  For once, I was actually glad I got my ass of bed.

  1

  Julie

  Several months later…

  The guy that never called? I was staring at him. How unfortunate for him I was holding scissors.

  I thought for sure the minute he laid eyes on me and my potential weapon, he would turn tail and run. He wasn’t very smart, which he proved when he never called (clearly, his loss) and then again when instead of walking away, he came closer.

  He smiled as if flashing his perfectly straight, white teeth would make me swoon.

  My days of swooning over him were over.

  Candy, the flighty receptionist, wasn’t immune to his oozing good looks, casual charm, and smooth-talking self. She all but drooled when she waved her hand in my direction.

  I narrowed my eyes when he lazily strolled over to me, his hips rotating as he kicked out his jean-cla
d thighs and his worn T-shirt brushed against the low-riding waistband. He didn’t say anything as he lowered himself in the black swivel chair in front of me.

  “What do you want?” I snapped when he only stared at me with his deep blue eyes through the mirror.

  He looked pointedly at the scissors in my hand. “A haircut,” he said like it was obvious, flashing that grin again. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”

  I thought about stabbing him. Like seriously stabbing him.

  I snapped the gum I wasn’t supposed to be chewing and smiled. I had to behave; management was watching. I couldn’t afford to be seen disrespecting a law enforcement officer.

  “Where’s your uniform?” I asked, arching a perfectly waxed brow at him.

  He gave me a sly smile. “Left it at home. Didn’t want to give any of the ladies here heart failure today.”

  Then he winked.

  Dammit. It was sexy.

  I rolled my eyes, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was indeed a hot bad boy who was actually good. I turned my back and reached toward the hook and pulled off a fuscia cape to drape around his neck.

  “Pink?” he said, lifting a brow.

  “I spilled something all over my black one. Oops! If you want to go somewhere else, I totally understand.”

  He smirked. “Nope. I’m already here.”

  I fastened the Velcro a little tighter around his neck than need be. He lifted a brow again, and I shrugged. “Wouldn’t want you to get all hairy.” I batted my lashes.

  He snorted.

  I expelled a quiet breath and silently told myself to get it together. He was a client. He needed a haircut. It would be over in ten minutes and then he’d leave.

  I didn’t want to touch him.

  I had to.

  Instead of getting right to work, I forced my eyes up and looked at his reflection in the large mirror hanging over my workstation. His brown hair had grown longer since our one and only date. It was shaggy and hung over his ears and forehead. The back brushed against the cape.