U.S. Marshals: Chased (U.S. Marshals Book 2)
Page 21
“You should be sorry. Do you know how lucky you are to be with me? I could get another man just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I deserve better. You show me a good time or I’ll call my brother Rico. He’d tell you how to treat a woman.”
Adam inwardly groaned.
“Well?” his date said, lifting razor-thin eyebrows. “You ready to take me to a nice place?”
Where Adam wanted to take her was straight back to her apartment—strictly to drop-off so he never had to see her again.
A vision of his glowering shrink made him try to please.
But after fifteen minutes of incessant complaints, he’d ordered their food to go and followed through with his plan to ditch her faster than that time he and Bug had a contest to see who could finish their Ziggy’s hot wings faster.
“Adam?” Charity opened her door as wide as the security chain would allow. “What’re you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Only for homebodies like you,” he said. “For normal people it’s eight p.m. So? You going to let me in?”
She closed the door to unfasten the chain, then opened it again, wishing she’d had the foresight to put on real clothes.
Once he’d helped himself to her sofa, then flicked on the end table lamp, he asked, “What’re you wearing?”
“It’s a nightgown.”
“No,” he said with a wink. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was negligee. Your sis give you that to go with the Victoria’s Secret lotion?”
“Yeah, what of it? I wouldn’t even be wearing it if all my sweats weren’t in the washer.”
“I’m not complaining,” he said. “Looks good on you. You should wear it again sometime.”
“F-for you?”
“Like friends with privileges?” He winked. “Hell, yeah!” A jab to her ribs showed her he was just joshing. So why wouldn’t her pulse slow down? “Hey, you wanna order pizza? I’m starving.”
She dropped onto the far end of the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chest, then wrapping her arms around bare legs, wishing the ivory satin-and-lace baby-doll-styled number had a couple more yards of fabric. “Thought you had a swanky dinner date tonight with that swimsuit model?”
“I did. But she didn’t like Ziggy’s Burger Barn, so I ended up taking her home, then eating my share of our meal on the ride over. After all that mind-numbing talk about her hair, clothes and nails, I found myself craving pizza—and you.”
“Flattery like that will get you everywhere,” she teased, plucking ten or so insect catalogs from the sofa so he could park himself beside her. “Well? You going to order from your app?”
“Sure. Our usual?”
“You know it.”
He snatched his cell from the coffee table, placing an order for a large pan pizza with the works. Wandering into the kitchen, he grabbed a bag of potato chips from her snack cabinet. For an average person, this might’ve seemed odd, but Adam ate more than anyone on earth, so chips after a swanky dinner and before pizza was pretty much his norm. After popping two Hostess cupcakes, as well, he said, “And, hey, while we’re waiting for the grub, I’ve got something I’d like to run by you.”
“Shoot,” she said, returning to the stag beetle she’d been pinning before Adam’s interruption.
“Here’s the deal…” He sat beside her, then reached for her hands. As focused as she’d just been on pinning her new acquisition, the shock of him again taking her hand so intimately jolted her to a whole ’nother place—the fantasyland she’d spun of the two of them. Her first instinct was to yank herself free, but instead she froze, like the last time he’d pulled this stunt, selfishly indulging in the decadence of being held. “In the middle of this date with a strange, high-maintenance woman I knew after being alone with her for five minutes I never wanted to see again, I had a great idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Glad you asked,” he said with a grin so potent, it took Charity a second to find her next breath. “The company shrink told me I had to date, right?”
“Yeah.” He was still massaging her hands, flooding her with tingling pleasure.
“Well, the doc didn’t say a thing about who I had to date—just that I had to go out with someone.”
“And?” Charity said, blaming trace formaldehyde fumes for the dizzying heat.
“And—you’re going to love this—so I figure, why don’t I just go out with you?”
Want more? U.S. Marshals: Prey is available for preorder now!
I grew up reading romances, and after the birth of my twins, I decided to try writing them. So far—knock on wood—that seems to be working out. But even after immersing myself in all of those happy endings, only now have I truly understood the healing power of love.
At the time of wrapping up this story, my husband and I had weathered one of our toughest storms. Coping with my husband’s grandmother’s advancing dementia, we’d made the decision to welcome her into our home—only, our current home wasn’t big enough, which necessitated a move. With two preteens, our finances had always been tight, but then especially so. I took on a second job to help make ends meet.
Times were tough. I used to be fortunate enough to spend my days leisurely writing. But like so many of you, I found myself hustling off to work. I squeezed in writing between cooking and laundry and chauffeuring kids to their many activities. At first I wasn’t sure how I was going to fit it all in, but gradually everything began to click.
I found myself enjoying my job and my new coworkers. Most of all, I enjoyed my newly concentrated writing time. No longer able to take all day to reach my goals, I had to write faster, leaner, with an intensity I’d never before known. Through that growth, I found myself utterly caught up in Caleb and Allie’s story. Might sound corny, but through their healing, I slowly healed. And instead of being afraid I wouldn’t be able to meet my next writing deadline, I viewed those looming dates as exciting mountains to be conquered. Was I still scared? You bet! But knowing I had the healing power of love to help get me through long days somehow made them all better.
Happy Reading!
Laura Marie
P.S. You can reach me through my Web site at www.lauramariealtom.com.
For United States Marshal Timothy D. Welch and Deputy U.S. Marshal Rick Holden. Thank you for the incredible tour of Tulsa’s marshal’s office, and for patiently answering my gazillion questions! Any technical errors are all mine!
And for my new friend and the sharpest dressed T.A. at Nimitz Middle School, Ms. Jana King! Thank you for making me feel at home since the first day we met, and for always being generous with your smiles. You are a treasure I hope to forever keep!
Second U.S. Printing: U.S. Marshals: Chased
Copyright © November 2019
First U.S. Printing MARRYING THE MARSHAL
Copyright © 2006 by Laura Marie Altom.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Fulton Court Press.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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