Pay the Hitman by Milana Cheers

Nothing good ever happens after midnight. That’s precisely when I start working. So when I get to my safe house in the Vermont backwoods in the wee hours, only to find it occupied, my gun and my suppressor are ready.
But instead of pulling the trigger, I’m distracted by a sound-asleep bundle of luscious curves and curly brown hair. When Isla opens those pretty, feline green eyes, I set a goal. Get the girl to eat from my hand within 24 hours.
Big mistake.
Because she strikes a fatal blow to my plans faster than a sniper’s bullet, and short circuits my ability to smell trouble. By the time I catch the unmistakable whiff of badge, my heart’s a goner, and her daddy’s comin’.