Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Did you get it yet?” Jake asks.
“No.” I bend my knees so he can see the screen too, continuing to hold the phone in front of me with one hand and using the other to swipe the screen, flinging virtual balls. I bite my lip as I lob the next ball. I think I’ve got ‘em this time, but a man clearing his throat catches my attention before I can be sure. I glance up, knees still bent as I crouch next to Jake, phone extended in my hand… and realize that at this angle my extended hand is inches from… oh, my God, this guy probably thinks I’m trying to take a picture of his dick. I mean, I can kinda see the outline of it, right—no, stop. I shoot up, an apology on my lips before I’m fully standing.
“I’m so sorry! We’re playing this game…” I wave the phone in my hand as I say it, but then my eyes land on his and the phone is slipping out of my hand.
It’s the hot agent from yesterday. Only today he’s wearing a suit. A nice one. Why don’t men dress like this anymore? Clearly he’s a man, and he’s dressed like this. I mean the other men. The men whom I come in contact with on a regular basis. They don’t look like this.
Quickly, I bend my knees and scoop my phone off the floor where it’s landed next to his shoe. Dammit, he has nice shoes too. This is so embarrassing. Get it together, Chloe.
“There was a Pikachu on your pants,” I say, referring to the Pokemon game I was playing as I stand again and my head jerks and I stumble towards him. Oh, Jesus. A strand of my hair is wrapped around the button on his jacket. How? How does this happen to me? I reach forward to free myself when his hand moves forward and grips my forearm.
“Stop,” he says, his tone firm. “Hold still,” he adds, and I blow out a breath and still myself. His hand leaves my arm and he untangles my hair from the button as the elevator stops. Once free I stand, sure I’m beet red. I dart a quick glance at the man. His perfect, beautiful face is now showing a hint of amusement.
I realize the elevator is stopped so I turn to see what floor we’re on and realize Everly is standing in the hallway holding the elevator door open with a smug smile on her face. She reaches out a hand to Jake as we all step off the elevator. “I see that you two met?” she questions with… is that glee on her face?
Wait. Oh, shit. The badge. This must be…
“No.” I shake my head back and forth. “Nope, I’ve never seen this guy before,” I lie. I will never hear the end of it from Everly if she finds out I’ve already met Sophie’s brother—while he was arresting my date. Just no.
“Ahh, Everly,” the man says. “It’s been a while.” He slides his hands in his pockets and glances between the two of us and Jake, seeming to realize something. “This little guy must belong to you,” he says, nodding at Jake. “My sister mentioned you got married”—he pauses—“and you’re a mom now,” he adds, looking at Jake as if the notion that Everly is partially responsible for raising someone is a confusing thought. He’s not wrong, it is bizarre.
Everly nods. “This is Jake. And this is Chloe,” she adds, nodding towards me, with a big smile on her face. Big. When she turns back towards Boyd I shake my head, eyes wide. I hope he plays along.
“Chloe.” He says it slowly, as if testing the name out, running his eyes over me even slower. Apparently he’s got all the time in the world. I fidget under his gaze before he speaks. “No, we haven’t met.”
“Chloe was my roommate in college,” she tells him before turning to me. “This is Boyd Gallagher, Sophie’s brother.” She smiles, before adding, “The Fed.”
Right. Way to be obvious, Everly. Why didn’t I put this together yesterday? Because I didn’t recognize the name Gallagher. Obviously he has a different last name than Sophie did before she got married, it just never occurred to me to think about it until now. I swallow and stick my hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
He pauses for a fraction of a second, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth, before he removes his right hand from his pocket and reaches forward to shake mine. His hand is firm and rougher than my own, and I catch a whiff of his aftershave as our hands connect. He holds onto my hand a moment longer than necessary and I like it, but it makes me panic at the same time.