We both groan. Then curse.
Then we slide into oblivion. Into pleasure.
Into each other.
* * *
Pike’s Endat five o’clock in the morning has a different feel to it. It’s like the town sits on the cusp of a place in between sleep and wakefulness, fragility and solidity. It’s quiet, almost solemn. And in all the years I’ve lived here, it’s my first time experiencing it.
Seems appropriate I would after following Lennon home to make sure she arrived home safely. Not that Pike’s End has a high crime rate—I think my father and brother racked up the highest numbers—but still, I’m not taking any chances. I always tail her after she leaves my house late.
Still, like this time of morning, it feels like we’re on a cusp, too. Something shifted with us last night. With her showing up at the house, with Gunner and then our conversation and lovemaking. Yeah, lovemaking. The fucking has been phenomenal. But for the first time since we were eighteen and twenty, we made love and…
Shit, I’m afraid to even finish that thought in my head, much less vocalize it.
But that doesn’t stop that damn flutter from taking flight behind my ribs. Flutters. The fuck. That’s who I am now.
I grin. And yeah, I realize I’m driving alone in my car grinning like an ass, but apparently that’s also who I am now.
The flashing blue lights and pulse wail of a siren catch me by surprise, and it takes me a few seconds to realize that the police car behind me is signaling for me to pull over.
The hell?
I frown and glance down at the speedometer. The speed limit is twenty-five and I’m going thirty. So technically speeding but nothing dangerous or something to be ticketed for. Pulling over to the side of the street, I lower my window and shut off the car. The cold November wind blows in, but I barely feel it.
Something isn’t right.
But this is Pike’s End. What can happen here?
Two police officers exit their cruiser and approach my Range Rover, one older, about mid-fifties or so, and the other younger, maybe a few years younger than me. The older cop steps up to my window, while the other hangs back.
“Morning, officer,” I greet, going for pleasant.
“You ran through a stop sign back there. License, registration, and proof of insurance, please.”
Okay, so either he resented working the graveyard shift or he resented me. Maybe both. But one thing I know for sure. I didn’t run a fucking stop sign because there wasn’t one for me to run. Still if they have nothing better to do than harass a so-called newcomer in town, then to hell with it.
“Sure.”
Grinding my teeth together, I pop open the glove compartment and reach for my registration and insurance. Then, grabbing my wallet out the console and removing my license, I hand all three over to the office. He accepts them without a word and returns to his car. The younger cop remains and throws a quick glance at his partner’s receding back.
“Hi, Mr. Sullivan. These are pretty awkward circumstances but I’m a huge fan. I moved to Pike’s End about five years ago. Couldn’t believe when I heard you’d moved back here”
“Wilson!”
Wilson winced, and even in the shadows, I saw red stain his cheeks.
“Sorry.” And then he hurried back to the cruiser.
Snickering, I grab my phone, pull up the email app and starting scrolling through. There’s nothing there I really want to reply to, or anything my agent or manager can’t address. Closing it out, I head over to Instagram
“Please exit the car, Mr. Sullivan.”
I jerk my head up and meet the older officer’s steady, hard stare.
“What?” I ask. What the hell is going on?
“I said, please step out of your vehicle, Mr. Sullivan.”