Redline Drift: A Flawed Attraction Romance

By M. J. Moores

Cops and Robbers Isn't Just for Kids

 

Shell Rockwood's family has her life all planned out, but she's got a secret to help her break free and jump into the driver's seat to her future.

 

Jax Forrester has a lot to live up to as an officer climbing the ranks, determined to play by the rules and get out from under his father's shadow.

 

In order to expose a crime-ring and get a break in the case, Jax goes undercover as Shell's new boyfriend to gain access to the high-end garage on her family's resort winery.

 

Shell risks having her secret exposed as she's forced to play nice and bring Jax into her world of mechanics and luxury cars. Can they work together to catch the criminals or will their pretend romance send both of them careening off course?

 

A sweet romantic suspense with a hint of spice.

Pick up a copy today!

Mild language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Knot Books
• Release date: Dec 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9781928094692

M. J. Moores

M. J. Moores began her career as an English teacher in Ontario, Canada. Her love of storytelling and passion for writing has stayed with her since the age of nine. M. J. relishes tales of adventure and journeys of self-realization. She enjoys writing in a variety of genres but speculative fiction remains her all time favourite. M.J. is a regular contributor to Authors Publish Magazine and she runs an Emerging Writers website called Infinite Pathways where she offers editing services and platform building opportunities. Her debut novel Time’s Tempest is currently available in print and e-format.

Book preview

JEKYLL OR HYDE?

Jackson blinked, pushing farther back into the bucket seat of the classic car as Rochelle Rockwood, of the famed Rockwood Estates, screamed along with White Snake at the top of her lungs. He kept one eye on the speedometer and the other on the road.

When the song faded out, she lowered the volume and her RPMs. The wind teased more of her hair free from the messy bun held together by two polished sticks.

That was quite the exit. He released his grip on the dashboard and rested his arm on the lowered door window. His pulse hadn’t spiked like that since his last take-down. Mr. Rockwood’s assessment of her personality seemed tame in comparison to the real person.

So, what’s the deal? She spat out and interrogated him with rapid-fire questions. What does the contract say? How many times is he approving a public display of affection? When do you need to have me home on a school night? She gave Jackson a side-glance. How old are you anyway? Are you the youngest looking officer willing to put on a charade for the greater good or something?

Abrasive, calculating – those would have been better qualifiers than spirited and brash.

I just turned twenty-four. I was not assigned to this undercover operation, I proposed it.

She gave him a dirty look. Not a fan of that decision. That got his hackles up.

It was my lead. I’ve been working this case for months. I want to be the one who breaks it open.

Ambitious much? Where do you go from Constable 2nd class? Detective?

That’s Detective Sergeant. And, no, I’m working toward Constable 1st Class, then Det. Sgt.

Ultimate goal is still the same. Her dismissive tone rankled. So, how are we going to do this? What’s the narrative?

"The narrative? You watch way too many cop shows."

Berate me for my lack of stellar TV consumption later. She levelled her tone, a serious edge breaking through the drama. How is all this supposed to play out? What did I just sign my life away to? And why were you in my Leadership & Management class this morning?

It’s part of the narrative.

She hit him on the arm. Shut up about that already.

He’d repeated her word for clarification, not to get on her nerves. Firecracker – another good word. We need a realistic backstory for this to work. If someone in the garage gets suspicious, like having a strange guy hanging around all of a sudden, they need to find a carefully crafted...

Narrative, she finished.

He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows at her.

She laughed.

Right. We met at school and I’m your next excuse for getting under your family’s skin.

Do my parents know? All pretense of affected air disappeared.

No, just your grandfather.

Gran?

No. We’re hoping to crack this open by the end of the summer, before you head home. After that, it’ll look suspicious if we’re hanging around the estate in the off-season. And, the fewer people who know the truth the better.

She nodded. So, this is just some crazy summer romance that doesn’t mean anything except to drive my family insane. We date, we wander around the property, you get what you need, and we’re done.

Well, that and you’re going to get me a job valeting with you on weekends.

"Uh-huh. That’ll be hit or miss. Frankie’s not a fan of being told what to do.

Apparently, neither are you. Who’s Frankie?

Francesco Moretti. I thought you said you looked into things? Her tone bit.

He bit back. I did. He’s the manager of the garage. Doesn’t mean I know his nickname.

Then what do you know?

Her attitude snaked in under his skin and put him on edge. I know they’re all supposedly clean, and whatever is going on leads farther up the chain.

You’re looking for an informant then. You’re not here to stop what’s happening on the estate. My grandfather won’t be happy about that. He’s all for making a show of helping law enforcement catch the bad guys, as long as it also weeds them out of his business and has him looking like a hero at the end. If it gets out that a counterfeit parts operation has been working out of his resort, it’ll be bad for business. This is about his bottom line. The bitterness that clung to such a succinct encapsulation of her grandfather hinted at a sharp mind – perceptive too. He’d have to watch just how much he revealed to her.

Don’t worry, Rochelle. Once we’ve got our guy, we’ll get him to convince the top brass that this is too public a cover.

It’s Shell. You call me anything else and you’ll blow this thing instantly.

Then you may as well call me Jax.

The tension in her shoulders eased. Jax took a moment to watch the trees and long, gated driveways flash by. Strains of Van Halen wafted from the speaker system. Rochelle hadn’t seemed the ‘80s hairband type, but then, conformity clearly wasn’t her forte.

Where are we going? he asked, trying not to sound like he cared.

Nowhere.

So, you’ve kidnapped an officer? Do I need to call this in? He over-played the serious tone and grinned as she raised her eyebrows at him.

I’m going for a country drive with my boyfriend in my grandfather’s favourite car to make a statement.

And what’s that?

She raised the middle finger above the windshield and screamed.

She didn’t. You’re pulling my leg. Jax’s best bud dropped down over the back of the couch with a bowl of popcorn, landing beside him. What did Maxwell say?

Didn’t tell him. Just said we went for a drive so I could fill her in on the details in private.

And she really flipped you the bird? He picked up his controller and activated player two, customizing his car.

No, she flipped the road or the sky, but in her mind, it was her grandfather.

Shoooot. Good luck with that man. And you have to go back to school? I’d rather take the night shift on a stakeout... for a week. Good thing Holly’s not around or she’d be out the door.

If she’d bothered to stick around, she wouldn’t know.

Yes, she would. Women have badger noses.

What?

She’d smell that girl on you so fast.

I’d change first. Jax entered race mode, the PS5 responding like a dream.

Doesn’t matter. A woman’s scent gets into your hair. Your skin.

I’m not planning on making out with her 24/7. It’s a ruse. Besides, she’s got a theatre background from high school – acting and whatnot. She’ll be able to play it up without us having to get too close.

Uh-huh, you just keep telling yourself that.

What do you know? You’re just as single as I am – you punk-ass, bald leprechaun.

Them’s fighting words. Now shut up and play.

PAYBACK

Shell maneuvered her Smart car from Concession Road 3 to the estate’s private drive. Her brain hurt. She’d take a soak in the tub and re-read the assigned chapter as the Epsom salts worked their magic. But as she pulled into the family garage, Shell narrowed her eyes at the black Honda Civic parked off to the side of the building. So much for her plans.

She grabbed her shoulder bag, heavy with books, and trudged up to the house. Someone stood out on the bluff overlooking the vineyard. Shell clenched her teeth.

Stop it. You agreed to play along.

I didn’t have a choice.

She jogged up the two sets of stairs inside, and dumped her stuff on the bed. She couldn’t leave her things by the front door like a normal person. With the house doubling as part of the resort, it would be unprofessional. Besides, she didn’t want her grandparents snooping – that would be a disaster.

Shell dragged a brush through her long, straight, multi-toned blonde hair and whipped it back into a low ponytail with an oversized barrette. She did a pit-check and sniffed her underarms – reasonable, considering the warmer May they’d been having.

She wanted to stomp down the stairs – it would echo the most in Gramps’s office, but he might be on the phone, and she’d lose privileges if she pissed him off. Still, she slammed the front door for good measure and headed for the bluff, urging deeper breaths to help keep her cool – or rather to find it again.

But it wasn’t just her fake boyfriend standing there, always there beside her in class, walking her to the library like a damned watch dog. One of the estate picnic blankets lay perfectly spread with the base package fare laid out. He hadn’t even tried to be original. That wasn’t what ticked her off the most, though.

Use your voice. Men don’t read minds.

Jax? What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until Sunday.

He turned to face her, the sun behind him lending chiselled shadows to all the right places. She frowned, pulling her focus away from the distraction.

Surprise. I thought you might want a snack since you missed lunch – and I wanted to see you again. He stepped forward and scooped up her hands. Her heart might have swooned if she hadn’t known better.

Things were too perfect. In every play and movie this was the moment that changed the tides. Shell blinked, fighting the urge to punch an officer. Instead, she leaned into him, placing her lips close to his ear.

Who put you up to this?

He stiffened.

"I thought so. This is asinine. Stop listening to him. If you want to do this right, we play by my