Bad Boy Blues - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,36

him.

“Eight o’clock.” Her smile was nervous when she added, “Be careful, okay?”

That sank into his skin.

He hadn’t had a woman worry about him in a long time. Probably since his grandmother. She’d had her rosary beads out daily, praying for his safety.

He thought about Elliott worrying about him as he drove to Mack’s residence. He thought about what it’d cost her to stay in the Cove, to stay with him. What it’d mean to have her home waiting for him each night, concerned over whether he’d come home or not.

He parked in front of the Browning home and climbed out. He’d always been safe, but there was a chance that one time, he wouldn’t be. And if Elliott wasn’t willing to risk her future in a new place while dating a cop she barely knew… Well, hell.

Could he blame her?

When Brady left Cup of Jo’s, his jaw had been welded steel. He’d spoken in code into his walkie, and Elliott had watched his posture change. His spine had gone ramrod straight. One fist had balled at his side. He’d looked ready to rumble, despite his easy response of “I’m a professional.”

She considered what he faced day in and day out. He could snap from laidback Brady to superhero in a blink. That made her feel two things simultaneously—impressed and worried.

She’d never worried about him before. Back when they’d been fun and light and temporary. That seemed to have altered without her permission.

She’d blurted out a dinner invitation, figuring she’d see him in person after the call he took and could rest knowing that he was safe. But she’d spent the rest of her shift fighting off one unreasonable thought after another. What if he’d run into trouble? What if he’d been hurt? Or worse.

At home, she busied herself preparing Dijon-herb-crusted salmon and roasted red potatoes. The meal came together quickly and finished in the oven, which gave her time away from the stove.

She pulled on a striped sundress and slipped her feet into a pair of hemp sandals. The wedge heels gave her some height, and the dress made her feel pretty. She even took the time to barrel roll her hair into large, wavy curls. She kept her makeup simple: mascara and a touch of blush. She brushed her teeth and swiped on lip gloss, and now there was only one thing left to do.

Decide how to tell Brady the news.

The knock at her front door came as she was sliding a large serving fork beneath the skin-on piece of salmon on a white platter. The potatoes were steaming away in a bowl between their two place settings—plates, silverware, and a pair of pilsner glasses.

When she opened the door to find Brady standing there safe and whole, she was overwhelmed with relief. It would make what she had to say harder, but she was strong. Her mind was made up. She could do this.

“Hi.” The word came out a little breathless. Couldn’t be helped. He wore trousers and a short-sleeved polo shirt that hugged his impressive physique. He seemed to get better looking every day she stayed, and that, too, was problematic.

“Hi.” His green gaze moved over her body like a touch. “You look incredible.”

She wasn’t sure if he stepped forward first or if she did. Next, he was kissing her, his palms heating her waist, and his tongue sliding into her mouth. She shut her eyes and savored the moment—and him. The smell of his piney aftershave, the feel of his strong arms around her.

“I made salmon,” she said when he pulled away. “I lit a few candles in the hopes the house wouldn’t smell like I made salmon.”

“It smells like dinner, and I’m not going to complain after the day I had.” He linked their fingers. “Can I pour the drinks?”

“Sure.”

Once they were seated across from each other at the dining room table, each of them having sampled the food and agreeing it was delicious, she asked him about his day. “How’d it go?”

“With?” He appeared genuinely confused as he forked a potato cube into his mouth.

She remembered the moment when he answered the call in the coffee shop vividly. Were emergencies that commonplace? “The call that came in when I gave you your coffee this morning seemed intense.”

“Oh, that.” His posture eased some, and she assumed it hadn’t gone as badly as she’d imagined. And, boy, had she imagined some scary scenarios. “I can’t say too much about it, but remember how I found Lila?”

“Tied to