Page 150 of Hot Cops

“I think we get the gist,” Justin said, cutting her off and pretending to shudder. “We don’t need to hear the dirty details about your photo shoots with all those sexy bachelors. Good thing you’re single. You can have some fun as you work.” He winked at her, careful to make sure Blake couldn’t see his face.

Chloe loved her oldest brother and his nose for mischief. She had absolutely no intention of posing Ned that way and Justin knew it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help her get a few digs in at Blake.

“I didn’t realize the photos were going to be risqué,” Blake said.

Mama frowned. “Neither did I.”

Oops. Chloe would have to tell her mom she was joking before she left today or she was liable to receive concerned phone calls from every woman on the fundraising committee tonight.

The rest of the meal passed much more easily than Chloe would have expected. Conversation turned to innocuous things as Justin described his latest project and Caliph and Jennifer talked about the long weekend trip they’d planned to take to Key West. Blake was a polite guest, answering questions about his work and complimenting her mother’s cooking.

Once dessert and coffee had been consumed, the family began to rise. Jett and Justin made their goodbyes, both claiming to have other plans, while Zac, Jennifer and Caliph went to the living room to watch TV. Her mother was tidying the kitchen, which left Chloe alone with Blake.

Blake peered toward the kitchen door. “Let me pop into the kitchen to thank your mom and then I’m going to head out.”

Chloe nodded as Blake disappeared into the kitchen. She walked to the front door to wait, anxious to see the frustrating man on his way. Her insides felt like churned butter and she was tempted to move Blake’s photo shoot forward, simply so she could get it over with.

She cheered herself up with a mental pep talk. She’d meet him at Lake Pontchartrain—she had no intention of ever getting on his motorcycle again—take the pictures, then turn around and walk away. This time, it was Blake who was going to see taillights. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than three or four hours. Surely she could survive that much more time in his presence.

“That’s a deep thought.”

She was startled by his voice, jumping slightly when she realized Blake was standing right next to her.

She put her hand on the doorknob, ready to get him the hell out of her mother’s house, but paused. “Should I pat you down to make sure you aren’t sneaking off with something?”

She felt horrible the moment the words crossed her lips, but there was something about seeing Blake again that was bringing out the worst in her. She didn’t consider herself a bitter person by nature, but for days, all she’d been able to summon was cold, hard anger. Well, that…and lust.

Blake took her comment in stride, lifting his arms. “You won’t hear any complaints from me. Take your time on that area below the waist. Lots of pockets down there.”

She blew out an exasperated breath, though she was able to admit she’d walked right into that one. “Don’t be such a pig.”

“Hey, you’re the one who offered. I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Should I turn around?” He spun, lifting his hands to the wall. The position sent her eyes straight to his ass, which he wiggled for her amusement.

One brief burst of laughter escaped before she could shut it down. Damn him. “Turn around and get out, you idiot.”

“I love your laughter.”

Chloe tried to ignore the tug his soft comment evoked. It had always been there between them—this electrical current that flowed hot and powerful, tying them together in ways Chloe could never understand…or fight. It was always sparks, heat, energy and painful need.

“Walk outside with me.”

Blake had her hand in his before she could refuse. It appeared his take-no-prisoners attitude was still there as well. She’d followed his lead when she was nineteen because she was young and inexperienced. If he still thought she was that same silly girl who would come merely because he beckoned, he was destined for disappointment. She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tightened.

They participated in a mini tug-of-war all the way to his motorcycle. Once they were there, he reached for a helmet. “Hop on.”

She laughed at his audacity. “No.”

“Get on the bike, Chloe. You need to get away for a little while. I can see it in your face. When is the last time you escaped, letting wind and the road take over until you forgot everything and everyone?”

Ten years ago.

She didn’t say it aloud, but something in Blake’s expression told him he knew the answer. “I’m not getting on the motorcycle with you. Not now. Not ever again.”

“Yes, you will.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Blake?—”

“Our photo shoot, remember? We’re taking the Harley to the lake.”

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