man truly had no shame.
Jackson did his best to come up with a reply that wouldn’t make him sound like a total ass, and when someone else caught the lieutenant’s attention, it was a relief.
Pulling a bill out of his wallet, he slapped it on the bar. The bartender could keep the change.
“Heading home together?” Sanders said, loud enough for the people around them to hear. “How fucking cute.”
Jackson spared him a last glance. “Getting out of here before you do something stupid and I have to waste my time cuffing you again.”
Sanders flashed his biggest sneer yet. “What goes around comes around, Calder. You remember that.”
CHAPTER 10
It was a quarter till eight when Jackson got home from the bar. The encounter with Sanders had left him filled with a pointless anger, like toxic waste in his blood.
The only thing more potent than that anger was temptation.
Two days, and he was aching to see Belle again. He’d promised to call, and although he wasn’t sure how soon she was expecting him to do that, it was hard to resist the urge any longer. The pleasure of her presence called to him like a drug, an escape from all the bullshit.
He dialed her number.
* * * * *
“Belle. You up for a walk on the beach?”
A thrill raced through her, going straight to her heart as she cradled her phone. “Sure. I could use some fresh air.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
Just like that, her Monday evening went from routine to a special occasion. She’d already changed into comfortable clothing and eaten a pan-fried chicken breast and rice for dinner. Glancing down, she deliberated on whether or not to change out of her shorts and tank top.
She decided against it – it didn’t get much more casual than a walk on the beach, after all – but took a few minutes to wash her face and apply some fresh mascara and lip gloss.
A pair of flat, jeweled sandals waited by the door. She put them on and grabbed her purse, then sat down to wait, her heart marking each passing second as it beat just a little too fast.
Jackson arrived exactly on time, and when she saw him, she was glad she’d kept her casual outfit. He wore shorts and a grey t-shirt that stretched across his chest, molding to the muscles beneath, like all shirts seemed to do on a body like his.
“Wow,” he said, his gaze sliding slowly up and down her body. He’d looked at her like that often the other night, when she’d worn the new dress.
“What is it?” she asked, her skin tingling with a pleasant, phantom heat. It wasn’t as if she was dressed to impress now.
“It’s like stepping back in time.” He nodded at her. “You used to wear stuff like that during the summers when you were home from college, remember?”
It was true. Day after day, she’d pulled on denim shorts and thin cotton tank tops, wearing a bikini beneath instead of underwear. Those outfits had carried her through long summer days, as comfortable and as common on the beach as broken shells.
“Well, I can’t dress to the nines every day, and it’s hot.” She smiled.
“Thank God for hot weather.” He smiled too.
“Are you ready to go?” She stepped outside, locking the door behind herself.
He nodded, and they walked to his car. Her feet felt light in her sandals, barely scraping against the asphalt. She understood what he meant about this feeling like a day out of the past. Back then, she’d lived for sunny days at the beach. She’d loved those days spent with friends – days that’d always held the possibility of seeing Jackson.
“Remember how you used to show up at the beach in the evenings after work to cool off?” she asked. It was impossible to forget how he’d looked in swim shorts, his construction worker’s body tanned and toned, muscles gleaming with sea water.
The sight had almost been enough to break her twenty-one-year-old heart with longing.
“I never quite succeeded at cooling off.”
“What do you
Jackson did his best to come up with a reply that wouldn’t make him sound like a total ass, and when someone else caught the lieutenant’s attention, it was a relief.
Pulling a bill out of his wallet, he slapped it on the bar. The bartender could keep the change.
“Heading home together?” Sanders said, loud enough for the people around them to hear. “How fucking cute.”
Jackson spared him a last glance. “Getting out of here before you do something stupid and I have to waste my time cuffing you again.”
Sanders flashed his biggest sneer yet. “What goes around comes around, Calder. You remember that.”
CHAPTER 10
It was a quarter till eight when Jackson got home from the bar. The encounter with Sanders had left him filled with a pointless anger, like toxic waste in his blood.
The only thing more potent than that anger was temptation.
Two days, and he was aching to see Belle again. He’d promised to call, and although he wasn’t sure how soon she was expecting him to do that, it was hard to resist the urge any longer. The pleasure of her presence called to him like a drug, an escape from all the bullshit.
He dialed her number.
* * * * *
“Belle. You up for a walk on the beach?”
A thrill raced through her, going straight to her heart as she cradled her phone. “Sure. I could use some fresh air.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
Just like that, her Monday evening went from routine to a special occasion. She’d already changed into comfortable clothing and eaten a pan-fried chicken breast and rice for dinner. Glancing down, she deliberated on whether or not to change out of her shorts and tank top.
She decided against it – it didn’t get much more casual than a walk on the beach, after all – but took a few minutes to wash her face and apply some fresh mascara and lip gloss.
A pair of flat, jeweled sandals waited by the door. She put them on and grabbed her purse, then sat down to wait, her heart marking each passing second as it beat just a little too fast.
Jackson arrived exactly on time, and when she saw him, she was glad she’d kept her casual outfit. He wore shorts and a grey t-shirt that stretched across his chest, molding to the muscles beneath, like all shirts seemed to do on a body like his.
“Wow,” he said, his gaze sliding slowly up and down her body. He’d looked at her like that often the other night, when she’d worn the new dress.
“What is it?” she asked, her skin tingling with a pleasant, phantom heat. It wasn’t as if she was dressed to impress now.
“It’s like stepping back in time.” He nodded at her. “You used to wear stuff like that during the summers when you were home from college, remember?”
It was true. Day after day, she’d pulled on denim shorts and thin cotton tank tops, wearing a bikini beneath instead of underwear. Those outfits had carried her through long summer days, as comfortable and as common on the beach as broken shells.
“Well, I can’t dress to the nines every day, and it’s hot.” She smiled.
“Thank God for hot weather.” He smiled too.
“Are you ready to go?” She stepped outside, locking the door behind herself.
He nodded, and they walked to his car. Her feet felt light in her sandals, barely scraping against the asphalt. She understood what he meant about this feeling like a day out of the past. Back then, she’d lived for sunny days at the beach. She’d loved those days spent with friends – days that’d always held the possibility of seeing Jackson.
“Remember how you used to show up at the beach in the evenings after work to cool off?” she asked. It was impossible to forget how he’d looked in swim shorts, his construction worker’s body tanned and toned, muscles gleaming with sea water.
The sight had almost been enough to break her twenty-one-year-old heart with longing.
“I never quite succeeded at cooling off.”
“What do you
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