“Sorry, I—I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine. I get what you were trying to do.”
Julia moved away, stretching her arms over her head. Her top rode high and Max caught a glimpse of toned, golden stomach. He wanted to nuzzle it, keep his lips moving south until he hit the waistband of those painted-on jeans. He closed his eyes. This was not good. Much as he hated himself for it, part of him was all too happy to find himself trapped with Julia. The same part that kept staring at her lips and wondering if she wanted a reassuring hug. If that didn’t make him the shittiest cop in the world, Max didn’t know what did.
He counted to ten and did it again for good measure.Man up, shit happens, get over it. Sure, he had a totally inappropriate attraction on the IT girl. He could keep it in his pants for the next two days, less if he found them a way out.
He turned to Julia. “I’m going to take a look at the door. Maybe you could search through the computer junk? See if there’s anything useful?”
“Sure.” Julia looked wary. “Um, do you want some space or something?”
Max avoided her eyes. “Yeah, I need to clear my head.”
A flush crept over her cheeks. “I’m sorry for putting us in the situation. I shouldn’t have left the door propped open with an encyclopedia.”
Max frowned. “Don’t blame yourself. I was the one who let it shut.”And part of me is happy about it, which is worse.
“How about we agree it's Henrietta’s fault and move on?”
“Sounds good.” Max headed for the entrance. “Look for an operational phone or computer. I’m gonna check out the door.”And try to stop being such a fucking pervert.
“Max?”
Jesus, she needed to stop saying his name. “What’s up?”
Julia hesitated. “Everything’s…going to be okay, yeah?”
Max's chest ached. Maybe it made him a hero-complex-having idiot but God it felt good to have her looking at him like he had all the answers. Like she felt safe because he was with her. “Of course, Jules. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“We’re not going to starve?”
“Not even close.”
But he was close. His chest was almost touching hers. When had he gotten so close?
“That’s good to know.”
Julia’s eyes were huge under the fluorescent bulbs, green and gold fire. He touched her arm again, not to be reassuring but because he had to know how she felt. Electricity zapped up his fingers.
“Max…”
Their mouths were inches apart. He could count every freckle on Julia’s nose, every lash that surrounded her jewel-bright eyes. It would be easy to kiss her. Just bend down and slide his tongue into her mouth real slow. Feel her taut body melt against his. God, he wanted it. Wanted it more than he wanted to leave this room. If he’d had his way he’d have done it, he’d have kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. Julia stepped back, the clatter of her boots unnaturally loud on the concrete floor. “You want me to look through the electrical stuff, yeah?”
Max’s body tensed, a billion chemicals firing in his brain. “Sure, yeah, computer stuff.”
“Cool, well, I’m going…over here.”
She turned and fled and the panic in her eyes made Max want to shoot himself in the dick. He hoped his father wasn’t watching him from the great beyond because if he was, his old man would have a fit. His only son was thirty-three, about to get divorced, and terrifying young women in enclosed spaces. If he started snorting coke and waiving speeding fines for mates, he’d officially be everything his dad hated. Sickened with himself, he turned toward the locked door, promising that from here on out he would keep at least three feet away from Julia at all times.
A vision of her soft pink lips parting as she looked up at him flooded his brain. Max rubbed his aching temples. Fuck it. Five feet.
Chapter 3
GIVENshe was white trash, Julia had never been accused of classiness, not in her dress sense, not in the way she talked, and not in her choice of sexual partners, no matter how rare they might be. However, attempting to kiss a married cop was shoddier than anything she’d ever believed herself capable of. She’d almost committed adultery—if it was still called adultery when the other person was married.
In the time she’d worked at Brenthill, Julia had drilled a pretty serious “other woman” kink into her head. She’d imagined being Max’s piece on the side, the girl who could give him what he really needed. Psychologically it made sense, morally it sucked. What kind of person fantasized about stealing someone’s husband? Her feminist self was constantly slapping her brain with a wet towel.
She’d met Max’s wife and she knew Bonnie Connor wasn't a faceless shrew; she was a beautiful, competent police officer. Julia didn't want to screw her out of a husband. She just wanted to screw a guy who happened tobeher husband. Though she was sure Bonnie wouldn’t appreciate the distinction.