Page 52 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

“You sound suspiciously like a military officer, JD.”

He looked at her like she’d insulted his mother. “No name calling or I’m going back to bed.”

Chapter Twelve

Jack Daniels smelledlike...Jack Daniels.

“How much do you drink in a day?” she asked as they drove down the street towards her house. Getting him into the Jeep hadn’t been as difficult as she thought. Getting the smell out of the upholstery might be a different issue, however.

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Whether I have to beg, borrow, or steal it.”

“Okay, different question, how much did you drink yesterday?”

“Doctors never stop with the questions. It’s always how much did you drink? When was the last time you ate, and when was your last bowel movement? As if my taking a shit has anything to do with anything.”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I don’t know, maybe a twenty-sixer of whiskey.”

“Is that typical?”

“Pretty much.”

“Any other recreational drugs?”

“No.” He sniffed. “I may be a drunk, but I’ve got standards.”

“Of course, how silly of me.”

“You’re a woman, you can’t help it.”

“Don’t insult your doctor, it could be detrimental to your health.”

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