Page 52 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

Come Monday morning, it would be all business between her and Birch.She knew it.He knew it.But anyone who’d been studying them closely enough, like Grey, would be blindsided.Birch hadn’t gone more than five minutes without touching her in some way since they returned to the booth after his hands steadied that afternoon.When she passed by to chat with the next people in line, his fingers brushed her thigh.When she stood at the table offering pens and lip gloss and bookmarks to curious passerby, his knee nudged hers.When she returned after slipping away to bring all of them dinner, he hooked his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap before remembering they had an audience.A very interested audience.

With the last of their supplies packed, she added the box to the stack of chairs and the tables Grey had collapsed.“I think that’s it,” she said, giving the empty tent a final appraisal and scooping a discarded yellow pen off the floor.“Are we loading the truck now or after the fireworks?”

Birch squinted into the sunset.“It looks like a rock concert on the field.”He turned to his brother.“Where are you parked?”

“Two rows away from you,” Grey replied, hefting the chairs up.“Why don’t we shove as much as we can in my car.I’m taking off right away so if you give me the shop keys, I can unload on my way.”He looked over Birch’s shoulder at her.“See you when you two get home later.”

*

Birch trailed hisfingers along Jocelyn’s arm, adjusting the blanket covering them when he felt the coolness of her skin.They lay in the bed of his truck in silence, the noise of the festival filtering over to the isolated berm he drove them to just outside the gravel parking lot.

The sun was disappearing too fast on the horizon, the tinny voice carrying on the wind from the concert stage announcing the five-minute countdown to the fireworks display the crowd was anticipating.

The success of the day was bittersweet.Even with his cautious pessimism, Birch had to admit that his booth had drawn bigger crowds and longer lines than every other one, save for the beer tent.His hands were aching from the hours of drawing, his neck and shoulders sore.But every twinge and discomfort had been worth it.

Jocelyn’s calm presence had kept him from becoming overwhelmed, her mere proximity giving him the same sense of surety he felt whenever he arrived at a clear game plan for the next obstacle in line.

He tried to keep his need for her under wraps, stealing steadying reminders of her nearness through quick touches of her hand or leg.Just by her being in his booth, he knew the town’s rumor mill would be churning at maximum speed by morning coffee, and the less fodder he gave them, the less Jocelyn would have to negate until she returned to Jersey.

Because it wouldn’t be him the whispers came to.It never was.Of the dozens and dozens of people whose skin he’d decorated today, not one of them would dare come to him with the gossip he knew swirled around him.It would be Jocelyn facing the comments and the stares, the judgements and the questions.

And she would be facing it for nothing.

A gentle touch moved across his brow.

“Did you know every time you start sinking into your darkest thoughts, this crease right here emerges?”she murmured, rolling on top of him and smoothing her thumb along his forehead.“No doom thinking right now, got it?”

“I wasn’t doom thinking,” he grumbled, pulling her down to kiss her.“I was contemplating reality.”

“Same thing.”The crowds a few hundred yards away began to holler their countdown.“Want to make out to the rocket’s red glare?”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jocelyn slid apaper clip onto the final stack of papers and slid them into the manila envelope, her carefully placed sticky notes removed and thrown away.

She kept her phone face down on the coffee table, knowing the constant buzzing was anyone and everyone except the one person she wanted to talk to.

It had been four nights since Birch made love to her in the bed of his truck, since he took her over the edge with heartbreaking intensity, only the two of them existing long after the fireworks faded from the sky and the crowds dissipated.

Four nights ago, he drove her to her hotel in silence, his arm around her shoulders and his hazel eyes locked on the dark streets.He walked her to her hotel room door, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as she slid her keycard in and unlocked it, pushing it open and standing in the doorway.

“I was so certain you would fuck me over,” he said, breaking the silence as he took a step back into the hall.“Fuck me up, then fuck me over.It never occurred to me I might be the one who could end up fucking you over.”

“You aren’t fucking me over, so get the thought out of your head.”Leaning against the frame, she crossed her arms.“But once all this ends, however it ends, you better find me.Because if you don’t, we’ll be revisiting that statement.”

With a nod, he turned and walked down the hall without another word, pausing to take a long look at her before he stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid shut.

Opening her laptop, she started a new document to summarize her findings of the Serpent’s Tongue Ink account, knowing every tap of her keyboard brought her return to New Jersey one stroke closer.

*

Walking a laparound the track to cool down, Jocelyn tugged her phone from her pocket and swiped it to life.“Hey, Angelo.Sunday morning calls aren’t usually your thing.What’s the good word?”

“The good word is I’m going to need you to get back here ASAP.I’ve booked your flight for five tomorrow evening, so you better hit the highway to Omaha by noon.”

Taking a final look across the field she beelined to her car, squinting into the bright sun in an attempt to make out who the large form leaning against the hood was.“I sent you the final report on Serpent’s Tongue two hours ago.There’s no way you made a determination on the findings this quick.”

“I need you back here so you can get your affairs in order,” her boss stated.“You’re going to be living it up in the Midwest for a while.The account you’ve been working on is one of over a dozen with the same patterns, all linked to Trevor Drayson.The Epson PD need you available for consultation while they sort out charges and gather evidence.”He lowered his voice.“You know the routine with these things.It never ends with the little guys.Keep your wits about you and trust no one.”

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