Page 53 of Man Cuffed
This is what domestic bliss looks like, I guess. Love and exhaustion in the same frame. I turn away, unsure how I feel about it. Do I want that someday?
Yes.
I go back to the kitchen, where Liam is stacking brownies into a tin for Maguire. “Great recipe. Thanks again,” I say.
“It’s no problem. Brownies are the easiest thing to bake.”
“My baking game is weak,” I remind him as I grab the mixing bowl and give it a quick scrub. “But I think I could pull these off on my own. Can I see the recipe? I could scan it with my phone.”
“Of course.” He points at a dog-eared piece of paper on the counter. The title is “Lisa’s Better Than Sex Brownies.”
I wipe off my hands and pull out my phone. “Moanies is a better name for them,” I say, lining up my photo.
“Right?” He laughs. “I don’t know why every recipe is suddenly calledbetter than sex. I mean, they’re great brownies. But I do wonder if Lisa’s needs are being met.”
My laugh is uncomfortable, because my needs have not been met in a long time. And I’m on my way to spend six hours with the guy who rules my fantasies. But, hey, at least there will be chocolate.
“You’re the best.” I give Liam a quick hug. “My love to Sadie. I shouldn’t wake her up, right?”
“Nooooo,” he says. “Not until I get that baby into his crib without waking him.”
“Good luck with that.”
“It’s my super power. Have fun tonight, okay? But promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of course,” I promise. “This isn’t dangerous. I’m supposed to stay in the car.”
“Be careful anyway,” he says as he walks me out.
When I pull away from their house, the brownies are already making my car smell like a chocolate heaven. But I’m actually starting to get a little nervous.
This isn’t dangerous, I repeat to myself on the way to the police station.
This isn’t dangerous, I tell myself under the harsh lighting at a busy reception desk. Two cops struggle past me, towing a snarling man in handcuffs.
This isn’t dangerous, I repeat when the receptionist hands me a liability disclaimer form that’s four pages long—both sides—and a pen.
I sign away my life at the bottom of the page. This is what I do for art.
“Here comes Trouble,” a gruff voice says behind me.
I whirl around at the sound of Mac’s voice, and see what passes for his smile—a lip twitch and a quick light in his eyes. He’s wearing his uniform, which looks like it was designed specifically for his square shoulders. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen him in his work gear, but every time is just like the first: I have an insane instinct to rip off his clothes. And let’s not forget that one time I tried.
But wow. His gun is holstered neatly at his side, and his badge gleams under the fluorescent lights. He’s still my sexy neighbor. He’s still Mac. But he’s like Macamplified.
And all my apprehension leaves me at once. Because I’m perfectly safe with him. I already know it. “Hi, Copper. I just signed my life away so that I can catch some bad guys with you.”
“You meanwatchme catch bad guys,” he says, giving me his familiar scowl. “You don’t get out of the car. Didn’t you read the document I sent you?”
“I skimmed it,” I say, just to piss him off. “Those are just suggestions, right?”
Someone behind him erupts with laughter, and Mac’s scowl deepens. “You see something funny?” he asks the other man.
“Every frickin’ day,” his friend says, grinning broadly.
“This is Lance, my summer intern.”
Lance straightens up and smacks Mac on the shoulder. “I’m his partner. That’s just his idea of a joke.”
