“Unless you know something about my schedule that I don’t, I can assure you that I’m working.”
He shakes his head as he stands and crosses the small room to stand before me. I straighten my back, trying to stand tall against him, but it’s no use. Hunter’s almost a foot taller than I am, and I’m five foot six. My brothers are all tall men, over six feet each, but I think Hunter would make them seem small in comparison.
He’s just so wide, so big…so sexy and—
I’m not going there.
You went there last night.
Fine. I’m not going there again.
“When it became clear that you weren’t waking up anytime soon, I called Saylor to let her know you weren’t feeling well.”
He lied for me? “Cops are supposed to tell the truth.”
“I didn’t lie, Evangeline. Yesterday afternoon was a mental breakdown for you.” He looks away, a guilty flush on his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like I did. It was wrong. I should have known better. Hell, I did know better.”
Color me shocked.
“Please accept my apology. I won’t bother you again.”
My mouth falls open, and I stare at him in shock. “That’s it?”
He rubs the back of his neck and then tugs on one ear. “Not sure what else I can say.”
“You certainly weren’t supposed to say that.”
“Are you mad because I apologized?” The look on his face is incredulous.
I fist my hands on my hips. “You weren’t supposed to be the one to back out of this relationship.”
“We have a relationship?”
I ignore his question, because I really hadn’t meant to imply that. Forget imply that, I just said as much. “This morning was supposed to be me thanking you for taking care of me, but letting you know I need space. That things moved too quickly.”
“You can still say that,” he replies quietly.
I throw my hands into the air. “Not now I can’t, because you’ve already apologized for the things that I was so worked up over this morning.”
“You have nothing to feel bad about.”
His calm manner is so infuriating. It’s like his attitude is bringing back the old me, the one who loved to give as good as she got in verbal sparrings. The one who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to anyone who would listen. The one who didn’t live in fear of a man, because the men—my daddy and brothers—who surrounded me while I grew up cherished me and would die to keep me from harm.
“I don’t need your permission not to feel bad, Officer.”
His lips twitch. “Duly noted.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I practically bite out, “Are you making fun of me?”
“Cops aren’t allowed to have a sense of humor, ma’am.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms and making his muscles flex. “Either way, I’m still sorry. You can leave now and never look back, without any guilt.”
I growl in pure frustration. “You are not telling me what to do. If I want to see you, I will. If I want you to eat my * six times a week and twice on Sundays, then I will and you will. Because that’s what we do. Got it?”
He rubs a thumb across his lower lip. “That good for you, huh.”
It’s not a question. “You can do better.”
He glances left, then right, before turning his hot gaze on me. “No one’s here but us, and since neither of us has anywhere to go for a while, I say you order me to eat your *.”
I flush hot. The old me certainly wouldn’t have launched into a rant about oral sex, but the new, improved me has no qualms. I’m thinking that I need to find a happy medium between the two.
“While that would be enjoyable,” I say and then swallow, “I’m actually hungry.” My stomach growls again.
“I can be quick.”
My pulse quickens and my clit starts to throb. “I don’t know if I can.”
“On second thought, let’s get brunch.” He moves past me and I have no choice but to follow him, sputtering my objections.
“What about my orgasm?”
He flashes a wickedly seductive smile. “Later.”
“But why?” Obviously, I have lost my mind. I’m arguing with a man over orgasms. Who does that? Except…I’m fully enjoying the banter and I think Hunter is, too.
“Anticipation.” He grabs his keys and phone, then clamps his hand down on my arm and pulls me close. Head dipping, his lips brush against mine and send zings of pleasure racing through my body. “I can’t wait to see how wet you will get for me.”
“Not very wet at all,” I counter, even as my mouth searches for his.
He pulls away with a low groan, steering me out the door with one word, “Food.”
—
The small diner is tucked away on a side street of Forrestville that I’ve never driven down. It’s bustling with early lunch activity.
While Hunter sips on coffee, I gulp down sweet iced tea.
Once it’s gone, he eyes me over the mug and pushes his glass of water my way. “Drink this, too.”
“Thanks. I don’t know why I’m so thirsty.”