Page 21 of The Off-Limits Rule: Extended Edition

“No, no, no. Are you insane? I’m a mom, Cooper—I can’t freaking go to jail.”

I grin and cut the engine to my truck. “You’re not going to go to jail.”

Even in the dark, I can tell her eyes are wide. “TRESPASSING IS A CRIME!”

“Shhhh,” I say, chuckling and covering her mouth with my hand. Now all I can see are her big blue eyes sparkling. “It’s going to be fine. I know the owner.”

She pulls my hand away from her mouth but, as I notice with great pleasure, doesn’t let go of it. “Then why don’t you use that handy little device there called a cellphone to call the owner and ask him or her for permission first?”

I run my thumb across hers. “Because what fun would that be? I thought you wanted to do something dangerous.”

She growls a little. “I was thinking something more along the lines of trying to eat a whole gallon of ice cream in one night and not throw up.”

“Wild woman.”

My taunt gets me a sideways glare. “Cooper. Ican’tbe wild anymore. I’m responsible for more than just me. If I go to jail, I have a four-year-old who will really miss his mama and, frankly, be startled to see how ugly she looks in orange.”

I squeeze her hand. “Lucy, trust me. I won’t let you go to jail. We’re going to jump in and jump out, then hit the road.”

She groans and gently bangs her head back against the headrest a few times. “This is not a smart decision. You’re a bad influence.”

“That’s my tagline. Now come on. Get out and shut your door quietly.”

“Because if I don’t…I’LL GO TO JAIL!”

“I’m going to personally drive you to jail and drop you off myself if you don’t quit yelling that.”

We both get out and stealthily shut our doors. I should say I shutmydoor quietly. Lucy tries to shut hers slowly, but it isn’t hard enough to latch. She presses it a few times, but it still doesn’t seal, so she has to throw her hip into it, making it shut with the absolute loudestWhamI’ve ever heard.

She hisses and bares her teeth in an awkward expression. “Oops. Sorry.”

I shake my head and hold out my hand before I even realize what I’m doing. Lucy takes it without a moment’s hesitation, and I pull her down the sidewalk. Again, I parked a few houses down from our destination—because you can’t exactly park in the driveway of the property you’re about to trespasson.

It seems like everyone is asleep in the surrounding houses because the street is basically dark. I don’t think anyone will see us and call the cops, but if they do it’ll make this night a whole lot more interesting.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this!” Lucy says as we trudge across the lawn, rounding the corner of the house and heading for the back gate.

“Relax, we’re just having some fun.” I let go of her hand to reach over the gate and unlatchit.

“I can’t relax!” She’s whisper-hissing at me. “I have a terrible feeling you’re recruiting me into your felon gang or something,and to initiate me you’re going to send me into this house to steal their big-screen TV.”

Now that’s a funny mental image: Lucy trying to lift a massive television out of a house on her own. I’m almost tempted to make her do it just so I can take pictures and always have something to make me laugh on rainy days.

“What’s a felon gang?” I ask, tugging her through the gate with me. “Is that like a special subcategory of gangs?”

“You know…like a group of felons who gang up together to steal.”

“You basically just restated the original title with more nondescriptive words. Here, stay close so we don’t trip the light sensors.”

“Ohgoshohgoshohgosh,” she says, staying close to my back as we hug the outer perimeter of the yard, heading toward the pool. It feels good to have her this close to me. She smells sweet. I can’t pinpoint the scent; it’s just soft and sweet. Maybe even a little fruity. “I’m going to jail. I amgoingto jail. I, Lucy, will be going to jail.”

“What do I have to do to get you to stop chanting that?” We’re at the pool gate now; I unlatch it and step inside, holding it open for her.

“Buckle me back into your truck and take me home safely.”

I level her with a loaded look. “Is that really what you want?”

She knows what I mean. This moment is more than justthismoment. This is Lucy’s chance to choose to live. She told me in her long-winded first text that she wished she were challenged more. Well, here it is—her first challenge.

---