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“Sunnie, what you did was reckless.”
She leaned closer, batting her big blue eyes at him. If she were a stranger, he might have been charmed. But this was Sunnie, and he knew all her tricks when it came to getting her way. “Do you mind just taking me home?”
It was against procedure. A crime had been committed. A report needed to be filed, questions needed to be answered. They needed a description of the assailant. Landon was a rule follower. He always had been.
“Sunnie,” he started again.
“Landon,” she cooed.
“You realize that will never work with me, right?”
She straightened up, the fake sweetness evaporating, the real Sunnie emerging. Funny how he preferred the sass over the sugar. “Oh my God. I have had the shittiest night in history. Please, don’t play Boy Scout tonight.”
Her words tweaked his temper. Sunnie constantly cast him in the eternal do-gooder role, while throwing herself at bad boy after bad boy.
She’d avoided him since that kiss on April Fools. He hadn’t realized it until this minute, but when he considered the last two months, he saw the truth.
He’d let her get away with it because he had been fighting his feelings for her, trying to convince himself his memory of that kiss was too clouded by tequila to mean anything.
“I swear this is only going two ways, babe,” she insisted. “I can ride in the cruiser with you back to the pub. Or walk home on my shitty ankle. Either way, there is no way I’m going to the pre—”
“Goddammit, Sunnie!” Landon cupped her cheeks, leaned forward and kissed her. Just to shut her up.
Sunnie jerked slightly, shocked by his impulsiveness. Then her lips softened against his, her head turning ever so slightly as she pressed closer. He opened his mouth and she opened hers, their tongues touching. Her hands rested against his chest, his bulletproof vest preventing him from feeling them there.
He wanted them against his bare chest, wanted her to feel how hard his heart was beating…for her.
Jesus.
For her.
Sunnie broke the union first. One look at her face proved she didn’t understand what had just happened any more than he did.
He was the thinker. She was the doer.
But tonight…he flipped the roles, acting on instinct.
“What the hell was that?”
“I was trying to shut you up,” he lied, struggling to pull himself together.
She laughed. “Well, I guess that’s one way to do it. You also could have told me to stop talking.”
He snorted. “Like that would work.”
The look she gave him proved she knew he was right and agreed.
Regret was setting in. Not over the kiss itself—that had done things to his libido he didn’t want to consider, just like it had at the party.
But once again, his timing sucked.
The first kiss happened when they were wasted. Now this one coming right on the heels of an attempted mugging.
He needed to figure out what the hell was going on with him in regards to Sunnie—and quick.
“I really am sorry,” she whispered.
It was a sincere apology, so he nodded and accepted it.
