Page 61 of S.O.S. Billboard

That’s when O’Shea broke down.

Laughing.

“You… I…” The gleeful snorts that emerged from her nose were cute as hell as she doubled over in hysterics, and…

All the tension that Billboard had been harboring magically disappeared as if the dirty dishwater had rinsed it away. His chest suddenly filled with an impish mirth he hadn’t felt in years.

“You threw a sponge at me,” he growled, pretending ire as he took a step in her direction.

“I…I didn’t mean to,” she guffawed, wiping her hands on her jeans and backing up.

“Oh, I think you did,” he said, slowly dogging her retreat.

“Okay.” She held up her palms. “Maybe I did. But I’m sorry.”

She didn’t sound sorry in the least.

Billboard moved forward, one large foot advancing for every retreat by her much smaller one.

He grinned, evilly.

“I think there might have to be some form of retribution,” he warned with a gleam in his eye he knew had to be apparent to her.

O’Shea tuned in to his playful determination, and perhaps spun scenarios regarding his intent.

The back of her legs hit the sofa, and without further room to retreat, she let out what sounded suspiciously like an “eep”.

He gave a lively roar and charged.

With a panicked squeal, she spun away and ran.

“I’ll get you. There’s nowhere to hide,” he warned her with a howl.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” she taunted.

Hell, yes.The chase was on.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Yikes! What had she done?

She’d never seen Billboard like this before. The words she’d normally use to describe the man were stoic, loyal, steadfast…but never had she seen this dangerously playful side of him.

And it gave her frissons all over.

The good kind.

O’Shea circled Billboard’s small dining room table, wanting to get into the kitchen where there was a door to the back yard. She managed to skirt Billboard as he went clockwise and she went the opposite, gaining her objective, which she immediately attempted to yank open. But…grrr. It was locked. She fiddled with it for a moment until…success.

She wrenched the door inward and launched herself out, just managing to dodge the swish of air she felt as Billboard’s hands nearly reached her.

Once outside, she tore across the yard, scouting her surroundings, wondering where to go next. There was a fence all around the property. She could try to scale it, but chances are, Billboard would snag her legs before she made it very far.

She whirled about. There were paths that led to Billboard’s front yard on one side, and to his mother’s on the other, but Billboard had positioned himself smack dab between the two escape routes, grinning, with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What’s it going to be, O’Shea?” he taunted devilishly.

Maybe if she dodged…

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