“Do you ladies enjoy an afternoon cup of tea?” Austin extricated a handful of tea bags from his pocket, hoping Polly would forgive him, handing them out like tiny little lifelines. “I’m told it’s just brilliant.”
It wasn’t quite on par with turning water to wine, but the distraction worked, allowing Austin to ease his way free of the group. He exited the park at a brisk pace, heading in the church’s direction. Stopping to wait for Polly simply wasn’t an option, because as soon as she was within reaching distance, it would be curtains. It occurred to Austin that he didn’t technically have a plan beyond getting them both off the street. It appeared he would be improvising.
He couldn’t very well walk into a church dressed as a priest. Not unless he wanted to go another endless round of questioning.
Just before Austin reached the church, he took a detour down a quiet residential block. Being that it was midmorning on a Friday, the good people of Roanoke would likely be working, a theory confirmed by the line of empty driveways. That wasn’t to rule out a neighborhood watch or an eagle-eyed homemaker, though, so it behooved him to move quickly. Hearing Polly’s boots approaching on the pavement behind him, Austin removed the false teeth from his mouth—not a sexy maneuver in front of a woman—and cut along a path separating two houses. He stopped outside the side door. No movement inside. No barking guard dogs, thank Christ.
Austin swiped the thin metal rod out of his back pocket—the same one he’d used to break into the stolen Lincoln—and inserted it into the lock. Easy as one-two-three. Polly reached him then, though, and he turned—Jesus. A gust of oxygen expelled from his body in a harsh rush. She requires pleasure. The evidence bloomed in her cheeks, reminding him of succulent watermelon. The tool was left sticking straight out of the lock, abandoned in the immediacy of the moment as he made a grab for Polly.
When she eluded his grasp, a low growl worked free of his throat. But it was cut off when she placed both hands on his chest, fingers curling into the material of his cassock. Time suspended for a moment before she shoved him up against the door—hard—rattling the glass panes. Her brown eyes widened a little, obviously having surprised herself, and that sexy na?veté burned him alive. It would take little effort to overpower her, but he didn’t want to. He exulted in her display of possessiveness, even though he was just as eager to turn it around on her, do some down and dirty handling of his own.
“You want to play rough with me, sweet?” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. “Your favorite belt is wrapped around my waist.”
Her soft, feminine moan filled the scant distance between them. “W-what are you doing here?”
Austin’s gaze homed in on her mouth. “Dying,” he rasped.
That watermelon shade deepened, spreading down her neck. “I m-meant, what are you doing in Roanoke?”
“Get us inside and I’ll show you.”
She loved him putting her in the driver’s seat, could tell by the way she shifted on the balls of her feet. A ready stance. Instead of following through, though, she shook her head, hair brushing over her kiss-needy lips. “Austin. Tell me.”
This honesty business was going to be the absolute death of him. It figured that his almost-girlfriend would be the one with the superpower to resist his advances. Fate was a cheeky bitch. “I’m here because you’re here. Because I didn’t want to know what Chicago felt like without you inside of it.” Blimey, that felt good. His chest expanded with added room. “You were spooked yesterday. I could see it. It made me anxious. I needed to make sure you didn’t ditch the plan and strike out alone, because that would be dangerous, and I don’t allow danger a single breath in your direction.” He swallowed his nerves, positive he was saying too much, but too revitalized by truth; he couldn’t stop. “But mostly I just didn’t want distance separating us. You’re supposed to be close. I like having you close.”
“Okay,” Polly breathed.
“Just okay?”
Telling the truth sucked.
Polly reached past his right hip and started to jimmy the lock with shaking fingers, her tits rising and falling. Her intakes of breath were deep, swelling her cleavage above the dress’s neckline, pushing it up against his stomach. Right. Maybe the truth didn’t suck. Maybe it was his new best friend.