Page 10 of Bring Me Back

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I can’t argue the fact that the Russo brothers are attractive—in very different ways. Leo’s tattoos definitely draw the eye. He’s the leaner, scrappier of the two. The fallen angel. The bad boy. Lots of women like that type, the kind they think needs saving. James is the larger, clean-cut version of his younger brother. His muscles are thicker, and his eyes are captivating. Plus, he’s got the whole quiet and brooding thing working for him.

Apparently, it’s working for me too.

I let out a frustrated sigh, but I can’t deny it. “Fine. James is good-looking. But that’s it. He’s just… nice to look at.”

“Well, don’t go and get a boyfriend before I even get out of here. We need to enjoy some single nights out first.”

“I’m not getting a boyfriend. Don’t worry.”

The doorbell rings, saving me from enduring the rest of this conversation. “He’s here, let me go.” I end the call and scurry toward the door.

It’s been well over two years since I’ve so much as kissed another man. Depression, my father’s death, my suicide attempt, and spending the last year and a half in a mental institution haven’t exactly been great for my love life. So it’s no surprise the sight of my attractive neighbor has me fanning myself. He’s hot. No big deal.

Until I swing open the door and see James standing on my porch, and all of the air leaves my lungs. He towers over me in a short-sleeve navy-blue button-up tucked into matching pants. The uniform conforms to his muscular arms and legs, hugging his trim waistline, and putting his strong forearms on display. His hair is neatly styled, shiny from the product he used to slick it into place, and dark aviators conceal his eyes.

But despite the eye candy standing before me, it’s the holstered gun hanging from his hip that has my jaw hanging wide open.

James Russo is a police officer.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the laughter from bubbling out. “You’re shitting me.” A giggle escapes me, and I clamp my hand over my mouth. “You’re a cop? The man who broke into my house is an enforcer of the law?” More laughter spills out of me until I can’t control it.

James shifts from one foot to the other, clenching his jaw. “It’s not that funny.”

I hunch over and brace my palms on my knees for support. I wheeze, each word barely coming out. “You were in handcuffs the other night.” A tear forms in the corner of my eye, and I swat at it as I try to catch my breath.

James pushes past me, clearly out of patience, and he lumbers into the hallway with his measuring tape. “I need the dimensions of your window. I’ll be back with the glass tonight after my shift.”

I sniffle as the laughter subsides and follow him to the kitchen. “I can do that myself if you have to get to work. Then I can have the glass waiting here for you when you have time to install it.”

He stretches over the counter, measuring the window as if I didn’t just speak.

I cross my arms over my chest. “What, do you think I’m not capable of taking accurate measurements or something?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I’m capable, you know.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

But then it dawns on me. This is what he’s used to doing. Leo fucks shit up, and James swoops in to make it all better. He’s the fixer.

How much of his life has been spent trying to clean up his brother’s messes?

“What were you even doing here last night?” I lean against my counter. “You were already standing on my porch when I opened the door.”

“I was coming to tell you to turn down your music.”

I snort.Of course he was. “You don’t bat an eye when you break into someone’s home, but loud music is where you draw the line?”

He retracts the measuring tape with a snap and spins around to face me. “Are you going to keep throwing that back in my face? I said I was sorry, and I fixed the lock on your door. What more do you want?”

“Easy, officer. I was just kidding. I’ll keep the noise down. Jeez, someone’s grumpy in the morning.”

“I’m not grumpy. I’m just…” He pulls off his sunglasses and blows out a long stream of air through his lips. “I’m stressed, and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

“Do you?”


Tags: Kristen Granata Romance