Page 47 of Beyond the Badge: Nox

When they stopped in front of her Benz, he waited for her to dig out her key fob and unlock the doors.

“You can go now,” she announced.

“I’m not leaving the parking lot until you do.”

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured and slid into the driver’s seat.

He pressed his arm along the top of the door frame and leaned in. “Hey…” As soon as she was settled in her seat and glanced up at him, he continued, “Just to be clear… This can’t happen.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She was purposely being obtuse. “This.”

“This what?”

She was really going to make him spell it out. “Whatever this is between us.”

“Nox, we only shared a kiss. Notakiss, three to be exact, if we’re keeping score. But it would’ve ended after the first one if I hadn’t enjoyed them. I’m assuming it would be the same for you.”

He did enjoy them. Too much.

Her lips curled slightly. “I guess you plan on being celibate for the rest of your life, then.”

“I never said I’m celibate.”

Her husky laugh had him straightening and taking a step back from her car. “You didn’t have to say it. You’re having a complete meltdown over a kiss.”

“I’m not having a fucking meltdown.”

“Okay, you’re wrought with guilt over it.”

“You’re imagining that.”

She clicked her tongue. “You’re not a good liar, Nox. You might want to practice.”

“I lie just fine.”

Her peel of laughter got his heart pumping a little faster. When she was done, she asked, “Are you going to tail me to make sure I get home safe, too?”

“No.”

“Then, you have a good night, officer.” She pulled her door shut and the rich rumble of her engine filled the air.

With a shake of his head, he strode over to his bike, parked only a few spots away.

After throwing a leg over his seat, he got ready to ride by turning his baseball cap around and slipping on the protective glasses he wore to keep suicidal bugs from taking out an eye.

When he pushed the start button, he realized just how good his bike sounded versus a car. Unless it was a classic muscle car with a big block engine, a Harley with straight pipes couldn’t be beat.

Her Benz might be fast and sound decent, but he’d always prefer two wheels over four.

He twisted his head when he heard, “Wait! I have something for you,” over the gravelly purr of his beloved ride.

For fuck’s sake, now what?

He was worried she’d break her damn neck as she trotted over to him on those high heels, carrying something square in her hand.

He squinted, trying to see what it was. A container?

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