Chapter 2 #2
She side-eyes me, knowing full well that my PI company, Shadow Justice, has had a few dangerous situations outside the cheating spouse cases. She leans ever closer, and now, I barely hear her whisper over the jukebox. “Somehow I think you’re a magnet for danger.”
I lean in even closer as if we’re sharing a secret. “Yeah? Is that a good or a bad thing?”
There’s no missing the innuendo in her whisper. “Depends on the situation.”
This close, her perfume is intoxicating. How is it that ten minutes ago, I was determined to be a proud friend, and now, I want more?
I shouldn’t have had that shot.
As if one measly tequila is the thing bringing me to my knees.
One of her curls falls onto her forehead, and I brush it off her flawless tawny skin.
“Proud of you,” I say.
She beams. “Say it again.”
I hold her gaze so she can’t miss it. “Proud of you.”
We hold the look a second too long—long enough for the noise of the bar to fall away.
The alcohol in her veins is making the rounds, and she scrunches her eyebrows together, a half-smile tugging at her mouth. “You think I’ll be any good?”
“Of course. I showed you the application, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Doesn’t matter what I think anyway…”
She cocks a smile that feels familiar. Too familiar. The same brand of flirting I used to pretend didn’t mean anything.
“It matters a little what you think.” Her voice is high and cute as fuck.
And just like that, we’re back here—balanced on the same thin line we used to call harmless because it was easier than calling it what it was. A fiery attraction neither of us could act on.
“Yes, Officer Johnson. I think you’ll be the best.” I don’t hedge it.
“Good.” Her smile turns wicked. “Maybe you’d like a ride-along…off duty.”
I swipe my finger along my lip, expression steady even as something sharp twists under my ribs.
I wish she meant it.
“Name the time.” I play along because that’s what we do. “But we both know you’re just a honey trap.”
“Excuse me?” She beams at me, but her eyes are heavy with tequila. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re luring me in.”
“Luring you in for what?”
“I don’t know.” There’s a dare somewhere in my words. “You tell me.”
Her gaze drops to my mouth, and for the first time, I don’t try to hide it when mine does the same.
We stare at each other for a beat.
We’ve never stood here before. We’ve flirted around the edges, traded looks and jokes, but I never pushed. Never called her bluff like I was ready to move if she said go.
This is different.
This is dangerous.
But then it hits me—I’m not the one holding her back anymore. I’m not the reason the big-city girl would settle for the small town. She chased her future. She earned it.
And she’s going back to it.
Which means if she wanted one night—just one—would I really say no?
Suddenly, the lights cut out.
The jukebox dies mid-song. The hum of the bar shuts off like someone flipped a switch.
“Shit,” Hudson mutters somewhere across the bar—then louder, over the confused hum of the room. “Two minutes, people. I’ll get the generator going.”
One second, there’s music, chatter; the next, the world drops into darkness and chairs scraping, surprised laughter, a ripple of confused voices.
Then it stills.
And all I hear is her breath.
Close.
A warm hand lands flat against my chest and slides over my heart which I hope she can’t hear is now pounding like a caged animal. She’s never touched me like this. A slap on the arm, sure. A hug hello. But this? This is different.
Her curls brush my jaw, and her hand settles at my side, fingertips barely touching the skin of my hand. I fight to breathe normally—to keep her from feeling how her nearness knocks me off balance.
Every instinct tells me to take a step back. She’s had a few drinks. She’s teasing. This isn’t the place.
But her touch lingers, her breath is hot on my neck, sending electricity through every inch of me. And in the dark, all the reasons “why not” fade just enough to ignore them.
Her lips graze my earlobe, and heat rips through me.
“You wanted to know what I was luring you in for?” she whispers.
Her voice sinks straight to my core.
“Yeah, honey,” I murmur, the word rougher than I intend. “I want to know.”
Her mouth hits my throat. My heartbeat pulses against her lips.
I slide my hand around her waist, partly afraid I’ll lose the moment if I don’t, partly wanting her to know exactly how much I want her. I draw her in until we’re chest to chest, breath to breath.
For a split second, that’s all it is. Heat. Proximity. The question hanging between us.
Then she rises onto her toes, and her lips press against mine.
She tastes of tequila and lime and every what-if I’ve tried to bury since she left this town. My control fractures and I open my mouth, diving my tongue inside. She quickens the pace.
Kissing her is a million times hotter than I thought it could ever be. She swirls her tongue in my mouth, and I need to cup her jaw to somehow bring her closer. Raw need races through me. If all I get is a kiss, I’m making it one to fucking remember.
Her nails scrape the nape of my neck, a soft sound breaks in her throat that nearly undoes me.
Her body fits against mine perfectly, soft curves against muscle, the press of her chest brands me through my shirt. I run my thumb over the column of her throat and slide my other hand higher along her spine until my fingers find bare skin.
God. This is a fucking woman.
And then—
The lights blaze back on.
We both freeze.
The room snaps into color and clarity. A few people cheer at the power’s return.
I’m still holding her. Her lipstick’s smudged; I have a hard-on.
She blinks up at me, eyes wide, lips parted. My hands fall away slowly, the loss of her like cold air.
Across the room, behind Freya, Lara’s frozen mid-sip, eyes as big as the pint glass in her hand.
Freya clears her throat, fingers brushing her hair back. “The lure finally worked.”
I scrub a hand through my hair and cock my eyebrow. “Yeah. It did.”
She turns away to hide her cute smile, reaching for her melted ice drink.
I let it end there. I have to.
Because if I don’t, I’ll reach for her again.
And if I do, I’m not sure I’ll stop.