Once Kissed: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family)

I speed ahead and angle my truck into the lot across the street, snagging a spot at the end where I can catch all the action going down. That asshole, her date for the evening, steps out of the limo from a different door than he went in and waves to the crowd.

Either they switched seats before he climbed out or something happened on the ride down. I hope it’s the former, because the latter makes me want to cross the street and break him in two.

I drum on the steering wheel. Jealous much, dipshit?

He helps Tess out, then presses his hand against her back, only to lower it down to her ass. It riles me more than it should—not just because of what he does, but how he does it: sly, like he owns her and is showing her as much. Despite where his hand wanders, his fake political face greets a group of higher-ups heading his way.

He leans into Tess and whispers something. She shrugs hard, trying to shake his hold. He laughs. I’m not sure if it’s for show or if he’s laughing at her expense. Either way, he keeps his hand on her when it’s clear she doesn’t want him to.

She tries to shrug him off again. Instead of giving her space, like he should have in the first place, he secures his grip and squeezes her ass.

I reach for the door and fling it open. I’m out of line, but so is this prick, and I have every intention of knocking him out. But from one blink to the next, Tess smacks his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she snaps, loud enough for me, and the advancing group, to hear. They pause as she storms away without him.

I find myself smiling.

She said “Don’t touch me.”

And “fuck.”

She’s not just annoyed. My girl’s raging.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She was telling the truth when she said she didn’t want to go to this thing. But then my smile fades when I realize she doesn’t have a way out.

I watch her move in line alone, her chin up. She’s forced a smile more times than I can count, but this time, she can’t seem to manage. This time, she’s done playing happy.

I mumble a curse, but then climb back in my truck. She doesn’t want to be with this idiot, just as she’d claimed. But it also doesn’t seem like she has any friends to support her.

The crowd that approached her date surrounds him, laughing and pretending that nothing’s wrong while Tess stands alone. She’ll probably stay that way, whether those other assholes decide to include her or not.

And I don’t like it.

I lean back and tap my hand against the armrest, mulling over my choices. I can’t go in without flashing a badge and blowing my cover. And I can’t justify blowing my cover without looking like an ass.

This thing has head-to-toe security. I’m supposed to sit and wait unless she’s in danger. But she’s not in danger. She’s just with an asshole.

An asshole who’s gunning to be the next mayor.

Nope. I have no options…until the next SUV pulls in and I find my opportunity.

This SUV is specially designed to accommodate someone who uses a wheelchair. A ramp is carefully lowered and the driver, a guy about my age, jumps out and tosses his keys to the valet, smiling. He waits beside a woman in a fur coat, until what appears to be a paraplegic man eases his way down the ramp. The woman in the fur coat dotes on him, while the young guy reaches up to help a striking young woman out of the vehicle.

The young woman has my attention, but it’s not because of her looks, or because she’s dressed all in red. I know her, and know her well. I scroll through the contacts on my cellphone and hit her number. As I watch, the older man scoots ahead in his high-tech chair with his woman at his side, and the young guy hits a button to withdraw the ramp. The valet speeds away at the same time the hot chick in red digs out her phone from the bottom of her purse.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Lety,” I say, watching her. “It’s Curran.”

“Hi, Curran,” she says, sounding surprised. Has it been more than a year since we talked?

Her date slides his arm around her and leads her toward the line of people waiting to get in. “Can I call you back? I’m at an event.”

“That’s actually what I’m calling about. I need to get into that event.”

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