They make your ass look even better.
Jeremy cocked his elbow out. “Miss McKinnon, shall we?”
She sauntered over—it was a definite saunter—and took his arm, clutching her bag in her other hand. “We shall.”
Just as they walked toward the door, a black Cadillac from the 1950s pulled up to the curb and a gawky teenager got out. “Hey, Tayla!”
Jeremy started laughing. “What is this?”
“I couldn’t find a Caddy from the forties, so 1957 will have to do.”
He took a step back. “Are you for real?”
The young man walked around and opened the door, holding it as they climbed inside. He was red-faced and still bore signs of acne, but he’d made an effort to dress up.
“Hey. I’m Jeff. I’m your personal driver for tonight. Please don’t smoke in the car—my grandpa will kill me.”
Tayla and Jeremy slid inside.
“I do the books for Jeff’s grandpa’s garage. He has this amaaaaazing collection of classic cars he shows, and he was sweet enough to let me borrow this one if I paid Jeff to drive.”
“I’m trying to earn money for my class trip this year,” Jeff said as he started the Caddy. “And I help my grandpa when he shows the cars, so he trusts me to drive them.”
“Better you than me.” Jeremy would be paranoid about scratching an automobile this pristine. He should take a picture of it for Pop. He turned to Tayla. “I’m gonna need a picture of you in this dress, leaning up against this car. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Only if you send a copy to me.”
“Done.” He stretched his arm across her shoulders and felt a frisson of heat when their skin touched. “I am really struggling to imagine what in Metlin we’re going to do that warrants this kind of car, but I’m just going with it.”
“Good.” She snuggled into his side. “Fasten your seat belt, Mr. Allen, it’s going to be a bumpy date.”
Not everyone could look sexy in a bow tie, but Jeremy Allen could. The man looked as delicious in formal wear as he did in hiking clothes.
There ought to be a law…
Just kidding. Tayla loved that he’d taken the time to look so good. She was excited. Everything was going perfectly.
“So do I find out what we’re doing yet?”
She shook her head. “It’s a surprise.”
They pulled up to the warehouse-like building on the south end of 7th Avenue only a few minutes later. The old industrial area was a mix of garages and body shops, interspersed with gyms, a few coffee shops, and a few new antique and secondhand stores. As Main Street had grown more expensive, some businesses had moved to more affordable areas like this one.
Including one of Tayla’s newest accounts.
Jeremy read the newly painted sign hanging in the front. “No way.” He turned to her with a grin on his face. “I heard about this!”
Plan Your Escape was a travel agency that had made a severe U-turn when the internet was born. The couple who ran it, the Baylors, had struggled for years after the internet travel boom, until one of their kids was inspired by the name of the travel agency and a YouTube addiction.
Jeremy couldn’t wait for their driver to let him out. He opened the door and held his hand out for Tayla. “Metlin’s first escape room. I can’t believe it’s open.”
“Well, it’s not. Technically.” She took his hand and stepped out of the car. “They’re planning three rooms, and only one of them is finished. Luckily…” She did a little curtsy. “Yours truly is the Baylors’ new bookkeeper. Frannie recommended me to them because Mrs. Baylor is her goddaughter or something.”
A friendly middle-aged woman opened the door. “Hey, Tayla! Right on time. We’re ready when you are. Just the two of you?”
“Yep.”
She pursed her lips. “The rooms are set up to have at least four people solving the puzzles, but yours should be okay. You won’t need four people. I’ll just give you a little more time on the clock. That fair?”
Jeremy said, “Sounds good to me.” He turned to Tayla. “You have no idea how excited I am. Have you done one of these before? I’ve seen them online, but I haven’t actually done one.”
“Only once. And our group didn’t make it out in time. Too much fighting combined with margaritas.” She winked at him. “We’ll do our drinking after the room.”
Mrs. Baylor waved them in. “You two look perfect. Do you mind if I take some pictures before you leave?”
Jeremy looked at Tayla and shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“Sure. Thanks for letting us in early.”
Mrs. Baylor walked through a small reception area with benches and a counter. It was clearly where parties would wait their turn. There was a photo area with different backgrounds set up. One looked like a jungle. Another looked like a spaceship. And the last one…
“The only room that’s ready to go is the detective room.” Mrs. Baylor looked over her shoulder. “And you two look perfect. Tayla, you’re just the cutest thing.”
Jeremy put his arm around her waist. “Agreed.”
She turned left and led them down a corridor that moved from industrial grey to wood paneling. At the end of the hallway was a frosted-glass door with the words Frank Cartwright, Private Detective etched into the glass.
“Okay, I’m going to start the clock. You usually get twenty minutes, so I’ll set it to forty since it’s just the two of you.” She gave them a little smile. “You get three hints, so press the intercom on the desk if you run into trouble. After the three hints are gone, you have to wait until the time runs out for the door to open or solve the puzzle on your own.”
“Got it.” Tayla felt a rush of excitement. She loved puzzles, and this promised to be a good one.
“You’re the first people to actually try this other than my kids.”
Jeremy said, “I’m really excited. Thanks so much for letting us preview.”
“I don’t think there will be any problems—there weren’t when Austin and Devon did it with their friends—but I’ll be on the other end of the intercom.”
“Thanks, May.” Tayla gripped Jeremy’s hand. “You ready?”
He held up a finger. “Should we go to the bathroom first?”
“Oooh, good thinking. You go first.”
“Thanks.”
When Jeremy had walked down the hall, Mrs. Baylor cleared her throat.
“I should let you know—because you’re on a date—that the rooms are video monitored. Just… to let you know.”
Tayla let out a sharp laugh. “Thanks. We’ll try not to shock anyone.”
“Oh, I used to work in a library.” She started down the hall toward reception. “I’m pretty much impossible to shock. Just open the door and close it when you’re ready to start. The room sets when you close the door.”
Tayla waited for Jeremy, then took her turn in the bathroom. When she walked back, he was leaning against the doorframe of the detective room, legs crossed casually at the ankles.
“Heya, doll.”
She smiled. “I see you’ve gotten into the spirit of things.”
His grin looked like a little kid’s. “I am so ready for this. You?”
“Yep.” She opened the door. “Let’s do it.”
The interior of the escape room looked exactly like a detective’s dim office from the 1940s. A cluttered desk with a green glass lamp. Papers scattered over messy filing cabinets and a low sofa with cushions tossed around. The taped outline of a body was stuck to the industrial carpet between the desk and a coat closet.
“This is so cool.” Jeremy shut the door, and the lights flickered.
A record player began a scratchy tune, and Billie Holiday’s voice started singing “I’ll Be Seeing You.” Tayla walked over to the oversized desk and picked up a piece of paper.
“‘Welcome to the office of the late detective Frank Cartwright. Unfortunately, Frank met his end working on a case, and no one has been able to solve it or his murder. Fi
nd the clues, solve Frank’s murder, and escape the room.’” Tayla looked up. “That’s it.”
“That’s all we get to start?” Jeremy walked over. “What’s all this?”
Tayla leaned over the desk and started spreading papers. “Files and… there’s some photo— Hi!” Jeremy had walked behind her and grabbed her hips. “Hey. Hi there.” She couldn’t stop the smile.
“Hey.” He bent over her back and ran his lips against her ear. “Before we get too busy with this mystery—”
“I should let you know there is video surveillance of these rooms.” She felt a laugh start to work its way up.
“With a desk this big”—he snugged his hips against her ass—“and a dress like this, that’s probably a good idea.”
He fully covered her, bracing his arms on the desk and kissing the sensitive spot below her ear. Tayla’s instinct was to press her ass back and into his hips, tease him like he was teasing her, but she didn’t want an audience.
“I think we better…” She let out a breath. “Wow, you are really good at that.”
Jeremy stood straight, gripped her waist, and spun her around. “Mm-hmm.” With his hands still on her waist, he urged her up to sit on the edge of the desk, then he stepped between her legs.
“We really shouldn’t—”
His kiss stopped her words. Jeremy played his tongue along the seam of her mouth until her lips opened and she tasted him. His strong hands gripped her hips, digging into the soft curves. Tayla was about to throw caution and all professional prospects with the Baylors out the window when Jeremy stepped back, licked his lips, and gave her a little smile.
“I couldn’t pass up the chance. You in this dress. The music.” He looked around. “The atmosphere…”
“Agreed.” She was breathless when she hopped off the desk. “But we now only have thirty-five minutes to solve this case, Mr. Allen.”
“Then we better get to work.”
Tayla’s stomach hurt from laughing. “No, you’re the one who spent like five minutes telling me the tissue box was a clue!”
“I’m just saying…” He shook his head and took another sip of his manhattan. “The pattern on the box was deceptive. It definitely looked like it meant something. Besides, you’re the one who insisted we had to look for a manual to tie a half-Windsor knot. You kept interrupting me. I had to just tie it and dangle it in front of your face.”
“Not every man would know how to do that.”
“Well, this one does.”
She sipped her martini. “I think you let me look in the file cabinet longer than I needed to.”
“You were bent over in that dress.” He leaned to the side to sneak a peek at her backside. “The view was too good for me to spoil it.”
She set her glass down. “We’ll get it next time.”
“It won’t be as fun though because we know most of the puzzles. We only missed it by a few minutes.”
“And if you hadn’t kept trying to convince me to join you on the sofa, we would have solved it.”
He shrugged. “I have no regrets.”
The words hit her with unexpected force.
No regrets.
No regrets for the time they were spending together. No regrets for the kisses they shared. Or the laughter. Or the chemistry.
No regrets.
She swallowed hard and played with her dessert spoon. “Did you get enough to eat?”
Jeremy stretched back and spread his arms. It truly was an impressive sight. “Plenty. PJ’s was the perfect end to the night.”
They’d left the escape room laughing, having not solved the murder of Detective Frank Cartwright but having had a blast solving the myriad puzzles and codes the escape room presented.
Jeff, their teenage chauffeur, drove them to PJ’s, a restaurant in the basement of the old courthouse on Main. It had an art deco theme and mixed great cocktails that it paired with small plates. Marinated short ribs with mushrooms, gourmet mac and cheese, wedge salads with green goddess dressing. The whole restaurant had a vintage feel with a beautifully restored bar.
They sipped cocktails, ate delicious food, and shared stories. Jeremy told her tales about living in LA for college, fresh from a small town, and Tayla horrified him with the worst of her prep school antics.
“The only positive aspect I can see for going to a Catholic prep school is the uniforms on the girls,” he said. “My teenage self would have had more than a few dreams about that.”
“But not your adult self, right?”
Jeremy nearly spit out his drink. He swallowed while shaking his head. “So over it. Very, very over it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are there guys…?”
“Oh yeah. When I was living in San Francisco, if I told guys I’d gone to Saint Francis Prep, so many of them asked if I still had my uniform.” She shook her head. “As if. So weird.”
“I have many thoughts.” Jeremy finished his cocktail. “That I’ll vent when I’m out with my buddies and not on a date.” He tried to protest when the server came by and Tayla grabbed the leather envelope with the check. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t even try.” She opened her wallet. “This date was mine to plan.”
“Yeah, and it was a lot fancier than mine.”
She shrugged. “But not as labor intensive. Seriously, this one is on me.”
He reached across the table, took Tayla’s hand, and kissed her knuckles one by one. “Thank you for dinner.”
Mmmmm. If paying for dinner got her that response more often, she’d be more inclined to offer. Jeremy had been the epitome of a gentleman all night—save for his slipup on the desk at the escape room. She wanted to get him alone and see if he’d slip up more.
“Are you ready?” She left cash for the server. “Should we have our driver take us back to my place?”
He nodded, his eyes lighting up. “That sounds like a great idea.”
Chapter Eleven
They drove back to Tayla and Emmie’s apartment, and it was everything Jeremy could to do keep his hands to himself.
Teenage boy watching through rearview mirror. Must. Not. Grope. Tayla.
He held her hand and played with the smooth curves of her fingernails as they drove the few blocks back to her place. Tayla slid her ankle along his when she crossed her legs.
Keep. Hands. To. Yourself.
Jeff stopped at the curb and quickly exited the driver’s door to let them out. Jeremy got out first, then waited for Tayla to exit, extending a hand to help her out of the low sedan.
“Jeff, thank you so much! I already paid your grandpa, but I want to—”
“Let me.” Jeremy stopped her before she reached into her purse. “Let me get it.”
She paused a second before she nodded.
Jeremy handed the young man a very generous tip. “Thanks, man. You’re a great driver.”
The boy’s eyes bugged out before a grin lit up his face. “Thanks, man. Have a good night. Bye, Tayla!”
“Bye, Jeff. Tell your grandpa I said hi.”
“I will.”
The Cadillac sped off into the night, leaving Tayla and Jeremy on the sidewalk.
“That was a pretty nice tip,” she said.
“I remember being that age.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “Can I walk you upstairs?”
“I was just about to invite you in for a drink.”
Jeremy hesitated. “Are Emmie and Ox—”
“Staying out at the ranch this weekend. It’s his mom's birthday.”
“Nice.” Privacy. It was a novel concept for Jeremy these days. “Then I would love a drink. Thank you.”
She unlocked the front door, and they made their way through the darkened bookshop, up the stairs that led to Tayla’s apartment.
Jeremy had been in their apartment before. He’d spent time there starting back in high school when he and Emmie had hung out. Since Emmie had moved back, he’d come over for movie nights and dinners.
But he’d never b
een up there alone with Tayla. “I feel like a teenager sneaking around,” he whispered. “This still feels like Betsy’s house.”
Tayla smiled “Emmie’s grandma?”
“Yeah.”
“Well.” She opened the door, and the smell of feminine life surrounded him. It smelled of coffee, beauty products, and something fruity. “It’s not Betsy’s house anymore.”
As soon as she closed the door, Jeremy swung Tayla around and pressed her against it. He gave in to the urge to kiss her. And then some. His lips took hers in a greedy kiss, and his hands ran from the curve of her shoulder, following the smooth line of her back, over the swell of her ass. He pressed and gripped, reveling in the soft, firm flesh. He took two full handfuls and squeezed.
Jeremy released her mouth and pressed his lips to the delicate, fragrant skin of her neck. He didn’t know what perfume she wore and he didn’t care.
“So I guess you’re an ass man.” Tayla’s voice was breathless, and her hands steadied themselves on his shoulders, kneading the muscle.
He smiled against her skin. He left one hand on her ass and ran the other up her hip and side to cup her breast. “Nah, I like it all.”
She shivered when he skimmed his thumb over her nipple. “Jeremy—”
His mouth returned to hers, swallowing her words.
She nudged him back. “My room.”
“You sure?”
“Emmie and I have a firm no-fooling-around-in-common-spaces rule.”
He shrugged and released her. “Fair.”
Tayla took his hand and led him to her room. Jeremy couldn’t keep his hands off her. Her skin was so smooth. She was delicious. Soft flesh and ample curves. He wanted to strip her to the skin and put his mouth on every inch of her.
When the door to her room was closed, it was Tayla’s turn. She pushed him against the door and ran her hands down his chest. “You’re all muscle.”
“I was a skinny kid,” he said. “And the opposite of athletic. Weight lifting was the only thing that kept me from getting picked on.”
“It worked.” She unbuttoned his shirt across his abdomen and slid her hand inside. “Mmm.”
He smiled. “You like?”
Hooked: A Love Story on 7th and Main Page 11
