Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,17

she had really pulled all the strings.

I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel, pack up and leave, because I couldn’t get home fast enough to the safety of my boring, jobless and penniless life, and forget all about the little, embarrassing incident I knew I wouldn’t tell anyone about.

A smug smile spread across my face. In spite of the stiffness in my bones, I almost danced out the sliding doors into the hot Mexican—

Midday?

I had been in there all night and morning?

I blinked against the glaring brightness as the sun blinded me and bumped into what felt like a statue.

“Whoa, steady there, birdie.”

The voice—so deep, so manly—grated on my nerves and made my blood freeze in my veins.

It couldn’t be because it was impossible. And yet—

I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the relentless sun and looked all the way up into gray blue eyes that seemed to shine just as brightly as the sun.

Chase.

Mr. Fucking Liar.

Earth swallow me up whole!

I was so shocked I took a few steps back, then turned.

“What are you doing?” his voice, deep and dark, bellowed behind me.

“I’m going back.”

“Fuck, Laurie. No, you won’t.” His hand clutched my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

My hands balled to fists, and for a moment my anger rendered me speechless, though I wasn’t sure whether to be angry with myself for calling Jude, with Jude for possibly calling Chase, or with Chase for not realizing that he was the last person on Earth I wanted to see.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I finally managed through cringed teeth.

“No need to thank me for bailing your ass out of prison.” The corners of his mouth curled into an arrogant smirk. I didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap that arrogance right out of him.

“Damn right, I won’t thank you. In fact, I’d rather go back than see you.” I turned my back to him, ready to ascend the stairs and disappear back inside. Countless excuses were already running through my head as how to best to persuade the police officer to let me back in.

Maybe:

“Remember the guy who bailed me out? I have absolutely no idea who that is.”

Or:

“I’m too beat to go back to the hotel. Do you mind if I wait inside so I can think hard about all the things I did do wrong because, in all honesty, I still don’t know?”

Actually, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. My cell buddy, who I knew for sure was addicted to crack, had managed to smuggle drugs in, and asked me if I wanted to help share them around. She had been quite pushy about it, as if the dirty little packets were no more than herbal tea.

If I were to choose between dealing with her and Chase, which one should I take?

Obviously not Mr. Hot Pants.

I dashed up the stairs and had almost reached the door, when Chase’s hand pressed down on my shoulder again. “Whoa, Laurie. You think that’s a good idea? They really want to charge you.”

I stopped and exhaled a slow breath. “With what?”

“Exposing yourself in a public place, working as a prostitute, trying to solicit a client.”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, all not true.”

“I believe you, but tell that to them.” Chase let out a laugh.

Was that the slightest hint of glee I detected?

Oh, my god.

He was laughing at me.

I turned to face him, my face a mask of fury and burning anger. “Who the fuck do you think you are turning up here like this, anyway?”

He didn’t even flinch at my icy tone. “I’m your husband, obviously. And as such, it’s my duty to make sure you don’t spend the next five years in prison for ‘soliciting clients’, which I know you’re not guilty of, otherwise I would have reconsidered my decision.” He leaned forward. At first, I thought he was about to kiss me, but instead he whispered in my ear, “What did you do? Smash someone’s car to get a cop pissed at you?”

I scowled at him. “I did nothing.”

He stood back, eyeing me in puzzlement. “Are you sure about that? You can be quite hot-headed?”

“I’m so not—” I stopped at his smug expression and shook my head. Maybe I was a bit hot-headed. So what? “You don’t believe me?” I said instead.

He let out another chortle. “At this point I would believe anything, just not that you were soliciting.” He tugged at a stray strand of my hair.

I flinched. “Don’t touch me.”

“You had