Page 23 of Locked Box

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“What do you mean?”

“My dad probably would have made commissioner if he’d lived. Even the fact that he died on the job basically made him immortal…Wait, how did we start talking about this? We were discussing your dirty book collection.”

Julia covered her ears. “No, enough about my pussy. We’re having serious grown-up talk.”

Max stared at her, thoughts of his father completely driven away.

“What?” Julia asked self-consciously

“I think it was worth getting trapped in here just to hear you say pussy.”

Her face practically liquefied. “Ididn’t.”

“You did. I heard you. It’s on the record.”

“I did not saypussy.”

“You just said it again.”

Julia buried her face in her hands. “Oh, God.”

“I’ll add it to the list.”

“What list?”

“The list of things I’m not allowed to bring up.”

A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “What else is on the list?”

“That vibrator thing you said earlier?”

“You swore not to mention that!”

“No, I said, ‘what happens in the property office stays in the property office’.” He gestured around at all the overburdened shelves. “Guess where we still are?”

“You’re such a dick.”

“You love it.”

Julia slapped him on the biceps, right below his tattoo. The skin tingled in a way Max knew had nothing to do with the blow. “Ouch.”

“You deserve it.” Julia heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Well anyway, now you know I’m a vibrator-owning single woman who has a thing for romance. I’m such a cliché.”

“No. A cliché would be if you wore statement glasses and liked British bands no one’s ever heard of.”

Julia’s upper lip curled. “What?”

“Well, the tattoo and the nose ring and the clothes…Tell me, do you spend most of your time drinking organic wine? Or do you sometimes go out and drink organic wineandsit on a milk crate?”

Julia’s eyes flashed fire. “Are you calling me ahipster?”

Max plucked the whiskey from her fingers and downed the very last swallow. “If the flower-crown fits, sweetheart.”

Julia launched herself at him, knocking the empty bottle from his hands as she slapped every inch of his head and torso. “I. am not. A. Hipster.”

“That’s exactly what hipsters say,” Max choked out, trying to grab something that wasn’t skin. “You’re assaulting a police officer. That’s a crime.”

“I don’t care.” Julia continued to rain blows on whatever part of him she could reach. “You lock me in here, you mock my romance novels, and then you call me a fucking hipster.I’m gonna kill you.”


Tags: Eve Dangerfield Romance