AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shouldn’tsoar.
But Jameson leans closer, his body shielding me from the view of the police officers, and deepens the kiss in a way that’s decidedly more reminiscent of the cabin than a dingy jailhouse lobby.
“Jameson,” one of the officers calls. I’m fairly certain it’s the one who actually took Jameson into custody at the cabin. He sounds just as tired now as he did then.
Jameson nips at my bottom lip, then lets his tongue linger over the faint sensation of his teeth forseveralbeats before he slowly, reluctantly pulls away. I have a moment of panic where I think he might stop touchingme, followed by a flare of hot anger at the fact that I want him to keep touching me, followed by what I hopeis cool reserve.
It’s not. My face is warm, and my heart races, and the main thing I feel is relief.
Which is simply not appropriate.
Then again, we left appropriateness behind when he kidnapped me, so it could very well be a moot point.
He keeps his hands and his eyes on my face and turns his head. “Yeah, Tommy?”
“Officer Phillips,” the officer sighs. His annoyance isn’t sharp—it’s almost like he wants Jameson out of here forJameson’ssake. I don’t want to identify with that sentiment, necessarily, but every time I work myself up to righteous rage, I remember him falling to his knees in the sand, terrified.
“You’re right.” Jameson straightens up. He releases my face just long enough to take my free hand in his. “We’ll take this elsewhere.”
“Try to stay out of trouble,” Officer Phillips says.
Jameson’s already walking us toward the exit. “No promises.”
I look back at the officers over my shoulder. Officer Phillips has his arms crossed over his chest, and he’s wearing a paternal frown that matches the concern in his voice.
“Thanks so much for your help,” I call to them, and lift my hand to wave, except I’m holding Snowball’s cage, so it probably looks like I’m letting thebirdsay goodbye. Snowball fluffs his wings and tweets at them.
One of the officers behind the counter—the one who processed Jameson’s bail for me—raiseshishand to wave at Snowball. A sharp look from his fellow officer, a dark-haired woman with a sleek bun, makes him think twice. He puts his hand back down.
Then she’s leaning in to say something to him while Officer Phillips watches us leave. Her eyes are on us, too, slightly narrowed, and the tiniest alarm bell goes off in the back of my mind. It’s not a necessary warning, I don’t think. Anybody would stare at a woman who showed up with a bird to bail out a man who’s not really her fiancée.
There’s no reason for them to be suspicious of that part after the way Jameson kissed me. The only missing detail is that I don’t have a ring, but we live in modern times. I’m sure people get engaged without rings all the time.
Jameson pushes open the first door to the station’s airlock and takes us through a pocket of frigid air. Then we’re through the second door, noontime summer sun pouring down on us. He spots his SUV in the second row and steers us toward it with a gentle tug at my hand.
Obviously, it’s better if we look like a real couple until we’re fully out of sight of the police, but it’swrong.
It’s wrong that it feels right to let him tell me where to go, and it’s even more wrong to go along with it.
But it’s themostwrong to like it.
Sweet mother of Charlotte E. Ray, it’s awful.
Jameson pulls me around to the driver’s side, takes Snowball’s cage out of my hand, and lifts it up so he can look into the cage. Snowball hops up to the bars and lets out a stream of indignant tweets.
“Hey,” Jameson says. “I didn’t mean to piss you off.”
“Are you for real?” Does digging my fists into my hips and glaring make me seem calm, cool, and collected? The verdict isno. “You didn’t mean to piss off thebird?”
Jameson peers over the top of the cage at me, the green of his eyes heightened by the sun. “His name is Snowball.”
“What the hell are you thinking, talking to a bird instead of me?”
“I kissed you before. I didn’t say anything to him.”
“I got you out of jail, you asshole.”
Jameson inclines his head. “Thanks.”
