One Night in Cleveland

By Megan Morgan

Chef Matt Fattore lives a clean and lawful life—so he doesn't expect to meet the woman of his wet dreams by being arrested by her. When Lieutenant Caylee Benton of the Cleveland PD mistakes him for a wanted burglar, Matt finds out fantasies sometimes land right in your lap—and frisk you.

Sparks fly despite the misunderstanding and Matt decides to take a chance and ask her out—and maybe, coax her into bed. But Caylee is more than just a beautiful woman with a badge and a gun. While Matt is falling in lust with her, she'll become his hero, too.

Matt is about to spend the wildest twenty-four hours of his life in Cleveland, and if he’s lucky, he’ll be in handcuffs by the end of the night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
• Release date: Nov 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311060938

Megan Morgan

Megan Morgan is an urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and erotica author from Cleveland, Ohio. Otherwise, she is a bartender by day and purveyor of things that go bump at night. Visit her website at www.meganmorganauthor.com, follow her on Twitter @morgan_romance, and find her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/megan.morgan.author.

Book preview

Chef Matt Fattore lives a clean and lawful life—so he doesn't expect to meet the woman of his wet dreams by being arrested by her. When Lieutenant Caylee Benton of the Cleveland PD mistakes him for a wanted burglar, Matt finds out fantasies sometimes land right in your lap—and frisk you.

Sparks fly despite the misunderstanding and Matt decides to take a chance and ask her out—and maybe, coax her into bed. But Caylee is more than just a beautiful woman with a badge and a gun. While Matt is falling in lust with her, she'll become his hero, too.

Matt is about to spend the wildest twenty-four hours of his life in Cleveland, and if he’s lucky, he’ll be in handcuffs by the end of the night.

ONE NIGHT IN CLEVELAND

City Nights, #18

Megan Morgan

Published by Tirgearr Publishing

Author Copyright 2015 Megan Morgan

Cover Art: Cora Graphics (www.coragraphics.it)

Editor: Lucy Felthouse

Proofreader: Sharon Pickrel

A Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not given to you for the purpose of review, then please log into the publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting our author’s hard work.

This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

DEDICATION

For Laura, my coworker, friend, and fellow smut fan.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thank you to everyone who has made the last eight years living in Cleveland the best years of my life and to all the new friends I’ve made here who support my dreams. Cleveland ‘til I die!

ONE NIGHT IN CLEVELAND

City Nights, #18

Megan Morgan

Benjamin Tyler, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, and burglary.

Matt Fattore had his face smashed against the hot hood of a police car as he heard these words, his arms twisted behind his back.

What! The running engine beneath his chest muffled his exclamation. What are you talking about?

A burly male cop with angry hands cuffed him and gave him a pat down. The cop didn’t seem to have any respect for his fellow dude, as he didn’t go gentle around the balls.

He’s clean. The cop yanked Matt upright and wheeled him around, to face a female cop.

Matt forgot his predicament for a moment in light of the sudden beauty who blossomed before his eyes. She had platinum blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, a heart-shaped face, shiny. pink lips, and big, blue eyes. Her black uniform clung tight and sleek to her voluptuous curves.

Nice morning for a ride, Mr. Tyler? She didn’t sound as nice as she looked.

Matt’s bike lay on the sidewalk nearby. People stood around it, gawking at the scene.

No, he said. I’m not—

Lieutenant? Angry Hands interrupted. You want me to call it in?

No, I got it. Lady Cop pulled a radio off her belt.

Matt thought he’d committed a traffic violation when the cops rolled up next to him. He wasn’t used to the bike—still trying to keep from falling off it, never mind following laws and etiquette. Not having a car sucked, but now it really sucked. He hadn’t tangled with the Cleveland PD in years.

Come on, Angry Hands said, let’s get you comfy in the backseat.

I’m not Benjamin Tyler! Matt protested. You’ve got the wrong guy.

Is that so? Lady Cop said. Cause you sure look like the guy in my mug shot.

Confused didn’t begin to cover Matt’s current state of mind. Flabbergasted, maybe. Gobsmacked.

Angry Hands delved into Matt’s jeans pockets. No ID. Just some cash.

Matt’s stomach sank. He hated riding the bike with his wallet in his back pocket, afraid it would fall out. Going to work, he had a backpack, but his shift wasn’t until this afternoon and he’d been riding to the gas station. He’d shoved some money and his apartment key in his pocket.

Get a bike, his buddy José told him. It’s what all the cool people ride now.

Ladies love a guy on a bike.

Besides, exercise is good for you, homes.

Matt cursed José in his head as Angry Hands pushed him into the back of the police car.

I’m not Benjamin Tyler. Listen, you can call my mother. You can take me past my apartment and I’ll get my—

Angry Hands slammed the door shut.

What the hell!

A mesh screen separated the front seat from the back. Lady Cop stood in front of the car, talking into her radio. She had her hand on her side, one curvy hip jutted out.

Damn she was pretty, but he was so, so pissed at her right now.

When she and Angry Hands got in—Lady Cop behind the wheel—Matt took a few deep breaths. Maybe if he stayed calm and respectful, they would listen. I’m not Benjamin Tyler. He spoke in a composed, quiet voice. I don’t know anyone by that name.

A friend of yours told us you might be hanging out around here. Lady Cop looked in the rearview mirror. Sounds like you need better friends.

Matt leaned forward, bringing his face close to the mesh. My name is Matt Fattore. I’m a chef. I work at Fondant in Tremont. You can call my boss. If you take me to my place I can get my ID.

Is that so? Angry Hands said. "How come you don’t have your ID on you, Mr. Fattore?"

Matt dropped his forehead against the mesh. I’m sorry, I don’t—

Sit back, Lady Cop said. And I would advise you to shut up.

Matt sat back, fuming. I’m not Benjamin Tyler!

If that’s true, we’ll get it sorted out at the station, Angry Hands said. Calm down and keep your mouth shut. It’s in your best interest.

Matt glared out the window, watching two more cops pick up his bike.

Somebody was going to pay for this.

* * *

Damn it, Lieutenant Caylee Benton sighed.

In her right hand, she held a mug shot of Benjamin Tyler: thief and general all-around cop-evading thug. In her left hand, she held Matthew Fattore’s driver’s license. Seeing them side-by-side they obviously weren’t the same person. Benjamin Tyler was older and wasn’t nearly as handsome.

Subjectively, anyway.

They look so much alike, she muttered. Like I need another report to write.

Caylee ran a background check on Matthew Fattore. Apart from a couple public disturbance incidents nearly a decade before, he was clean. He did work at Fondant. The man who’d brought his license, José Rodriguez, worked with Matt.

She’d screwed up, big time.

She walked into the booking room, hiding her chagrin behind a poker face. Mistaken identity happened, but it had never happened on her