The Hunk Next Door

The Hunk Next Door

by Debra Webb, Regan Black

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Overview

The Hunk Next Door by Debra Webb, Regan Black

USA TODAY bestselling authors Debra Webb and Regan Black introduce the thrilling new spinoff series The Specialists: Heroes Next Door 

In the season of hope, someone's out for blood. Police Chief Abigail Jensen is determined to protect her town—and avoid falling too hard for Riley, the new guy next door. But deciding who to trust can be deadly, especially when he has deep secrets…. 

Agent Riley O'Brien's mission is clear when he joins the CIA's covert Specialist task force: protect a small-town cop from a terrorist, no matter what. Trading his identity for the undercover guise of a handyman is part of the plan…getting close to Abigail on a personal—and passionate—level isn't.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781460342183
Publisher: Harlequin
Publication date: 11/01/2014
Series: Specialists
Sold by: HARLEQUIN
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 224
Sales rank: 287,107
File size: 276 KB

Read an Excerpt

Belclare Police Station
Wednesday, November 30, 9:50 a.m.


Riley measured the span of the double doorway and clipped the tape measure back on his tool belt. He'd picked up work with the company in charge of transforming Belclare into a Christmas extravaganza just as the director suggested. Riley considered his assignment off to a stellar start when he was sent over to decorate the police station.

"She's in a meeting." The young cop working the reception desk behind him was having trouble with one of Bel-clare's citizens. "May I take a message?"

"She's a young hothead is what she is," the irritated older man replied. "The historical society has never been handcuffed in this manner. I will not stand for it. The tourists expect…"

Riley continued tacking holiday garland around the door frame as the man droned on about tourism, children and intrusive patrols.

"Safety is our utmost priority," the young officer said. "From our chief right down to our newest recruits."

Preach on, kid, Riley thought. Belclare would need every patrol if only half of the chatter about retaliation was true. Chief Jensen was in serious trouble. Via email, the director had kept him in the loop with the most direct threats to help Riley identify the locals who no doubt had to be involved. At the moment, this guy from the historical society was quickly gaining himself a spot at the top of the list.

Riley stepped down the ladder to gather up the next length of evergreen woven with velvet ribbon and colorful ornaments. This town pulled out all the stops for the holiday. He couldn't see why the police station needed decorating, but the work put him close to the chief. At this stage, she didn't have a clue that by doing an excellent job as chief, she'd not only protected her town, she'd also put them in more jeopardy.

Though he hadn't yet seen more than a photo of the lady with the tough-as-nails reputation, Riley admired her efficiency.

The older man with the beef against the chief's new security requirements was turning red in the face as he continued his protest.

Finished with the doorway, Riley decided a break in the tension was needed. "I'm taking a break for hot chocolate," he said to no one particular. "Can I get anyone anything?"

The old man swiveled around, scowling at him. "Who are you?" He turned back to the young cop behind the desk. "Do you know him? He might very well be an assassin right here in our midst. Now who isn't being careful enough?"

"Don't worry about me," Riley said, laughing off the accusation. "I just follow the work. Riley O'Brien." He stuck out his hand, but the older man refused to take it.

"Martin Filmore, president of the Belclare Historical Society," he replied, a sour look on his weathered face.

"Pleased to meet you." Riley gave him a big smile and hooked his thumbs into his tool belt. "Can I get you anything from that shop across the street while you wait?"

Filmore rolled his eyes. "The shop is called Sadie's. Owned by the Garrison family, the building has been a landmark in Belclare since the town was founded."

"Good to know." He looked past Filmore to the kid behind the desk. Riley pegged him as early twenties and fresh out of the academy. "How about you, Officer?"

"Call me Danny." The young cop grinned, relief stamped on his face. "I'll take a hot chocolate."

"All right. Marshmallows or whipped cream? Cinnamon on top?"

"Sounds like you've been to Sadie's before," Danny said knowingly.

Riley shrugged into his down vest. "A man who doesn't cook has priorities."

The cop's expression brightened more, making him look even younger. Riley was grateful to gain an ally in town, even a young one. Since getting hired on, he'd learned that people here were a bit edgy around strangers. The guys on the crew who'd worked previous seasons said it wasn't normal for Belclare, but they all agreed the folks had good reason. The national news headlining drug bust marked the first serious crime in their community and they were worried that more would follow.

"I take marshmallows," Danny said. "No cinnamon."

"Good choice," Riley smiled. "How about you?" he asked the older man again. "Last chance."

"No," Filmore snapped. "Thank you. I am capable of fetching my own coffee."

Riley paused, one hand on the door. "The girl at the counter said they were doing some sugar-cookie thing this afternoon. What's that about?"

Danny sighed wistfully. "I asked for the time off but didn't get it."

Filmore glared at the kid. "You cannot convince me the police department puts safety first when our officers are more concerned with a sugar-cookie party."

"It's a big deal," Danny defended himself.

Filmore launched right into another snobby rant, complaints and insults flying like fists.

Riley was about to intervene with another dumb new-guy-in-town question when a harsh, earsplitting whistle silenced the argument.

All three men in the lobby turned to the woman in the doorway that led back to the bull pen.

The woman of the hour, Riley decided, soaking up his first live view of Police Chief Jensen. Her blond hair was pulled back from her heart-shaped face and her blue eyes were sharp as lasers as she studied each of them.

Unlike the other officers he'd seen coming and going today, she wasn't wearing the dark blue uniform. No, she wore a deep green suit with an ivory shirt, tailored perfectly to her curves. Was it some attempt at a civilian disguise or didn't she lead by example? He took in her slender legs and the high heels and decided he appreciated the view too much to criticize her choice or rationale. Were police chiefs supposed to wear skirts? He knew the formal uniforms for women were that way, but on an average day? He'd seen her on television, had researched the decorated career that led to her current post. None of it accurately portrayed the size of her personal presence. She might be a petite little thing, but without saying a word she had full command of the room.

Her hard gaze moved deliberately from Danny to Filmore to him. He felt it like a touch. After a moment, she settled that tough blue gaze back on Filmore.

"Mr. Filmore, what is the problem here?"

"I need a moment of your time," he began. "The new precautions are an impediment—"

She held up a hand and he stopped talking. Riley put that skill right up there with a superpower. One fact had been immediately clear: the president of the historical society loved the sound of his own voice.

Her cool gaze landed on Riley again, raked him from head to toe and back up. "You are?"

"Not a part of this," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm just on garland detail." He pointed to the ladder.

She eyed the ladder and then stepped forward, holding out a hand. "Name and identification, please."

He hoped this was a stunt for the crotchety Filmore. "Was I hanging garland too fast, ma'am?"

She glared at him.

"I checked his credentials when he came in, Chief," Danny piped up. "He's with the design team."

"Your name," she insisted.

Riley gave her his friendliest lopsided grin. "Riley O'Brien." The grin didn't appear to be any more effective on the police chief than when he'd used it on his teachers in private school.

"You're Irish?"

"That's what my parents tell me." According to his new background courtesy of the Specialists' technology wizards, he was first-generation American, born of Irish immigrants. As he'd memorized his manufactured past it was as if the techs had somehow tapped the childhood fantasy that carried him through his long years at the orphanage.

"What brings you to Belclare?"

"Steady work," he replied as she returned his Maryland driver's license and the work permit.

"And you'll be leaving when?"

"Actually, I'm thinking I'll stay." He looked over to Danny. "Maybe you can point me to a place to rent?"

"The personnel don't typically stay on after the work is done," the chief countered before Danny could reply.

Riley shrugged. "So far, I like what I see."

She examined his progress with the decorations. "Why aren't you done?"

"I was taking my required break, but that got interrupted."

"Well, we won't waste any more of your time."

"Thank you." He returned his wallet to his back pocket and zipped up his vest halfway. With a wave to Danny, he headed out to Sadie's while the chief addressed Mr. Filmore.

The sky was heavy and he smelled snow on the air. Riley didn't need a weather forecast to tell him Belclare's annual Christmas Village would benefit from an idyllic blanket of fluffy white snow for the opening weekend. The most profitable weekend according to the background reports. All he had to do was make sure no one ruined it for them by assassinating their beloved chief of police.

Sadie's was quiet and the hot chocolate orders were ready sooner than he'd hoped. He needed to keep an eye on the chief, but he also wanted a few minutes of distance to gather his thoughts. Whatever he'd expected, she'd been…more. Sure, she was beautiful and she clearly had her finger on the pulse of this town. He didn't like how that made him feel. Uneasy. Turned-on. A potential lifelong assignment out here suddenly took on a new element of risk. And a potential unexpected angle.

What if he asked her out? It would be a valid way to stay close, especially in these early days. He headed back over to the police station, planning how best to get a few details about her out of Danny. Riley knew how to ask questions without giving away his real motives.

Work, he reminded himself. That was his real motive. This wasn't the time to get distracted.

Chapter Two

"You simply must relax the police presence on Main," Mr. Filmore said, not for the first time.

Too bad Abby didn't have any evidence tying him to any illegal activity. Not even a whiff of mental instability or aggression in his background.

As much as Filmore tested her patience, she refused to give in to the temptation to play favorites. All the citizens of Belclare deserved her best effort as their police chief. It was a shame she didn't trust them equally anymore.

Despite the press conference that had gone viral thanks to national news and social media, in recent days her confident speech felt more like a publicity stunt. She knew the value of perception as well as caution. The mail and email that flooded the department and website in the days following the drug bust was mostly positive, but the threats, in an increasing number, had to be assessed and cleared or sent up to the feds, who claimed she was in trouble. They'd even suggested she employ a protective detail, but they hadn't given her the personnel. Besides, with everyone in town watching for her next mistake, she had enough eyes on her already.

The threats monopolized her time, taking her away from other important daily endeavors, though Homeland Security would disagree with that assessment. They were sure she was dealing with a sleeper cell and their insistence, while absurd, had her looking at everyone in town with suspicion. She knew these people. Cared about them—even the hardheaded one glaring at her right now.

Of course, Martin didn't care that she'd drawn that line with his safety in mind. Aesthetics and historical accuracy mattered more than anything else to him. Thankfully, the men and women on the police force agreed with the aggressive line she'd drawn.

"I will not relax the patrols on Main or anywhere else, Mr. Filmore."

"But the problem was out at the docks. Isn't it a better use of resources to keep your patrols focused in that area?"

He wanted her to save resources in the hope that he could divert any funds she didn't spend into his budget at the next council meeting. She knew the tactic far too well. She'd taken this job despite the politics that went with it. Abby felt the tension mounting. Her shoulders were tight, her legs were ready to spring and her toes were cramping in these stupid pumps. She reminded herself she couldn't throw a tantrum. There were better outlets than the bloodcurdling scream of frustration trapped in her throat.

A soft tap-tap-tap of a hammer and squeak of boots on the metal ladder told her O'Brien was back to work in the lobby. Talk about an outlet. Wow. Riley O'Brien would certainly qualify as an effective distraction. He was handsome and built. If only she could be sure he wasn't also a threat in contractor's clothing. Had she really just thought that? She gave herself a mental shake. This had to be some universal female fantasy involving a thermal shirt, faded jeans and a tool belt that sparked sudden, inexplicable lust in a stranger under present circumstances.

"Well?" Filmore demanded.

She dragged herself back to the present. Mr. Filmore deserved a thoughtful reply. "I could have the increased patrols work in their civilian clothes."

"How is that any better?"

She knew it! It wasn't about the official uniform presence hindering anything. His dissatisfaction was about the budget. She was done with Filmore's whining and she had another appointment in just fifteen minutes. Abby squared her shoulders. "My officers will be out there, in uniform. End of discussion. They will not harass anyone, because I've given clear instructions—" based on the most recent threats that she didn't bother explaining "—regarding what they should look for."

Filmore made an unpleasant sound of frustration. "I suppose you expect me to be grateful."

She smiled, remembering he was a decent guy if a bit uptight about historical accuracy. "I expect you to recognize the necessity of the situation. Together is the only way Belclare gets through this rough patch."

His beady eyes locked on to her. "You might have thought of this 'rough patch' before you turned our town into a target."

Before she could respond, he spun on his heel and marched out of her office, his spine ramrod straight.

Abby let him have the last word. Not because he deserved it, but because she refused to be late to her next appointment. She was ready for a bit of solitude in her car and the comfort of coffee and conversation with a friend who didn't have an agenda. She shut down her computer and moved away from her desk. Adjusting the silk scarf at her throat, she slipped into her black wool overcoat.

She was debating the wisdom of ruining her look by switching from her heels to her winter boots when someone knocked on her office door. Again. She turned and the professional smile she'd forced onto her face faded at the sight of Riley O'Brien filling her doorway. "Yes?"

"Danny said I could come on back."

She made a mental note to have a chat with Danny.

"I just wanted you to know I'd finished the lobby as well as the display out front."

"I'm sure your boss will be thrilled with your efficiency."

"Probably so." He gave her a grin that reminded her of the young men she'd pulled over in the past who tried to get off with a warning. "Today's project list filled two pages."

"That's… " Why did he think she cared? "Ambitious," she finished. "If you'll excuse me I have an appointment."

"Oh, sure." He stepped out of the doorway but hovered while she locked up. It was a new procedure and no reflection on her department but—

"Can't be too careful these days," he said, echoing her thoughts.

"Precisely." She maneuvered around him, unable to ignore the enticing scent of evergreen and cinnamon clinging to his clothing. "The garland is scented this year? I didn't approve that."

"I'm not sure it's possible to un-scent fresh pine, ma'am."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"The ma'am thing. I don't like it much." It made her feel old and right now the increased pressure following the drug bust was more than enough to cope with.

"Right." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Danny mentioned that."

She was definitely having a talk with Danny. He needed a reminder about basic security around strangers. "Enjoy your stay in Belclare, Mr. O'Brien."

"Call me Riley."

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The Hunk Next Door 4.5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 4 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Good
lrhubble More than 1 year ago
A Great Romantic Suspense Contemporary, Romantic Suspense Belclare, Maryland While the town is celebrating the season of hope it seems someone isn’t enjoying the season and is out for blood. Abigail Jensen is the police chief and she is determined to keep her town safe from harm. She is also trying to avoid falling too hard for the new guy next door, Riley. Abigail has to decide who she can trust because trusting the wrong person, especially someone with deep secrets, can be deadly. Riley O’Brien is an agent with the CIA’s covert Specialist task force and he is on a mission. He needs to protect a small-town cop from a terrorist. No matter what. He has traded his identity for an undercover guise. Riley is a handyman which is all part of the plan. What isn’t part of the plan is getting too close to Abigail on both a personal and passionate level. This is a great romantic suspense story that starts out fast and doesn’t stop until the very end. The characters are complex and interesting and make for a story that is hard to put down. As the clues and story unfold it makes for a story that pulls readers in and they try to figure out just what everyone’s angle is and who can be trusted. The reader never knows what will happen next and how everything will turn out. This is the start of a spin off series that will have readers that haven’t read the original series wanting to read that and also want to read the other books in this series. This is a different romantic suspense series that makes for a read that is hard to forget even when the reader is done with the book.
ABrantley More than 1 year ago
The Hunt Next Door by Debra Webb and Regan Black is a must for fans of romantic suspense. I love that the book was written in a way that the reader knew who the bad guy was from the beginning and got a glimpse into his mad world. I really enjoyed this read and finished it only a couple days.
blonde_betty More than 1 year ago
In The Hunk Next Door, Debra Webb and Regan Black launch their new Specialists series.  Each Specialist agrees to take on a lifetime assignment to protect a city or individual from long-term threat.  Not surprisingly they manage to fall in love with the town, the people, and the person they are primarily protecting.   Riley O’Brian takes his new assignment very seriously.  Based just outside Baltimore, Maryland, he is sent to protect the local Police Chief Abigail Jensen from an unknown terrorist cell.  Abby initially looks at all newcomers with suspicion.  Bad things are happening in her town and she is responsible for protecting everyone.  Soon she begins to rely on his observations and steadying presence.  Together they make an amazing team and manage to defeat the immediate threat.  While I would have liked a little more insight into the bad guy’s motivations, the suspense is great and comes to a well-reasoned conclusion.  I can’t wait to see how the series shapes up from here.