Page 12 of Double Take

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“It turns out the kid had broken a window playing ball this morning, and was afraid he’d get in trouble. So he was hiding in his own backyard tree house. His mom found him safe and sound right after she called it in.”

“That’s the best outcome.”

“Not for the kid. He’s probably going to lose his video games for a month.”

Lindsey was glad Mike’s mind had gone right to that consequence instead of corporal punishment, which was sort of a hot button for her. Probably not surprising, given her field—she’d certainly dealt with a lot of people traumatized by physical abuse. Still, Mike’s comment added to the picture of the kind of person he was. A good one. She already knew that much.

Damn, why couldn’t she just keep thinking of him as hot? Speculating that he was nice, decent or trustworthy was useless. Though it would almost certainly prevent her from even considering giving in to the attraction she felt for him, despite her protestations.

“Anyway, I got the call that he’d been found before I even got to town.”

“So were you coming back to the ferry to make sure I hadn’t fallen overboard coming down the gangplank?”

“Nope. It was just a coincidence that I spotted this yellow monstrosity in my rearview. I had to remind myself that Big Bird doesn’t live here.”

She patted her steering wheel. “Don’t make fun of her.”

“I recognized it, obviously. When I saw which way you were going, I turned around and came after you so I could pull you over.”

“Are you allowed to pull me over when you’re off duty?”

“What makes you think I’m off duty?”

“You’re not in uniform.”

A wry grin lifting one corner of his mouth, he slowly unzipped the front of his heavy-duty windbreaker, revealing a buttoned-up, khaki uniform shirt beneath it, complete with a badge on the breast pocket.

“That’s not fair. You were practically undercover.”

“Were you doing something illegal on the ferry that I missed? Are you a secret Twinkie smuggler or something?”

“Twinkies aren’t illegal here, are they?” she asked, feigning horror.

“Not yet, but there is a new eat-healthy initiative at the school.”

“I’ll be sure to stock up, like those Doomsday Preppers did when the world thought Twinkies would be gone forever.”

“Good plan. Now, Lindsey Smith, why don’t you tell me why you were so worried about me pulling you over?”

Yeah. Why was she worried? She hadn’t been speeding—heaven knew it would be hard to get her car up to any speed on these roads. So why had he pulled her over...just because he wanted to see her again?

Even as she reminded herself she didn’t like these tactics, a thrill of excitement raced through her. There’d definitely been attraction between them; she knew he’d felt it, too. She hadn’t for one second really believed he was gay.

Maybe his spiel about not being interested in women or relationships had been a cover, just a line to keep from seeming too interested. Maybe he’d recognized her car and followed a crazy impulse, stopping her so he could ask her to meet him for a drink, or a pleasant walk along the beach, or for hot, steamy sex in the nearest bed.

Cool it.

Whatever the reason, she forced herself to remember she wasn’t interested. Okay, she was interested—definitely aware of him, as any woman would be aware of a guy so hot he should come with a warning label and oven mitts. But, aside from already having decided he was so not her type, she, for one, had meant it when she said she wasn’t on Wild Boar for romance, or sex. Those were the last two complications she needed to add to her life. Lying low and hoping people forgot about her supposed obsession with orgasms wouldn’t be easy if the local police chief started giving her lots of orgasms. Although, she had to admit, it would certainly be fun.

“I’m not worried,” she finally replied, forcing orgasms out of her head. She’d work on her own think-method later, when she was alone. “I’m just surprised you didn’t mention your status as the island’s chief enforcer.”

“That makes me sound like a mobster, not a cop.”

“Sorry. Now, come on, tell me why you pulled me over. Could you just not resist following me?” she asked, flirting a little, despite her own best interest and good intentions.

He admitted it, slowly nodding. “You got me. I had to come after you. I couldn’t help myself.”

She swallowed hard, wishing she hadn’t started something she knew she couldn’t finish. Flirtation was fun—she usually enjoyed it, especially with a guy as attractive as this one. But she was here to lie low, not to get laid.


Tags: Leslie Kelly Billionaire Romance