Page 96 of Trigger

I was about to shove my tongue down his throat, consequences bedamned, when a shrill trumpet blast made me flinch.

“The fuck?” I murmured and looked out the open window, keeping ourfingers interlaced.

Carter chuckled. “Oh, it’s our neighbor, Adalberto, gettingmarried. He’s Portuguese. The music the band is playing is called fado, butthis is the modern version of a more traditional folk music.”

I grinned. “I like it. It’s very—”

Carter shook his head as if he could read my mind. “No.”

“Danceable.”

I snaked my arm around his waist and pulled him toward me beforehe could stop me. When our bare chests bumped into each other, he rolled hiseyes, but his hand already rose to meet mine.

“This is crazy,” he said with a sigh. “Do you have any idea howridiculous we probably look?”

“Two tired, burned-out cops dancing to fado in honor ofAdalberto’s long and prosperous marriage? Of course not.”

My reply made him laugh, and his laugh made me grin.

“You have a beautiful smile,” I said, caressing his waist. “Youshould smile more often.”

“Not a lot to smile about in this town,” he murmured, staring intothe distance.

I nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Fucking Shitsville.”

“Smitsville,” he corrected me with a grin.

“Same thing.”

We kept dancing in silence. When I closed my eyes, he did thesame, and I knew it because his movements slowed down. When my cheek grazedhis, he didn’t pull away but let out a soft sigh as we kept moving to therhythm of the music.

“By the way, what is this cologne you’re wearing?” I asked him,inhaling his scent greedily. “You smell amazing.”

“I’m not wearing any.”

Of course not. Why wouldn’t he smell divine without the cosmeticproducts to help him? He already looked perfect, felt perfect… Why wouldn’t hesmell perfect?

“Tye, can I ask you something?”

I looked at him, intrigued by his tone.

“Of course.”

He bit his lip, seemingly hesitant. “It’s just stupid curiosity,but… do you have, like, a type or something?”

His question made me miss a step. Where did that come from?

“What do you mean? Like, in a guy?”

He nodded. “A girl, too. I’m curious.”

I gulped. “I told you what my type is.”

What was it again? Ginger and short? Or auburn and tall? Icouldn’t remember.

He laughed. “Yeah, but you lied.”

Fuck.

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