Page 47 of Caged

Chapter 20

Jay

What was I thinking, kissing Maxwell? I did it for the right reason, but there were other ways I could’ve achieved the same thing.

Kissing her crossed the line.

But damn, it felt good.I shifted to look out the window so I could adjust myself without being too obvious. The kiss sent most of my blood to the part of my body that needed it least.

Maxwell drove me crazy and made me feel like a failure. There was no way I felt anything for her. So, kissing her shouldn’t have stirred up anything.

Who was I kidding, I was a healthy young guy who’d just pushed a gorgeous, feisty woman against a wall and kissed her like my life depended on it. Of course it stirred things up.

Like the stupid sensations in my chest I refused to give words to.

Nope.

And the fire in her eyes when she yelled at me, wasn’t a turn on. Neither was the color in her pale, slightly freckled cheeks when she blushed.

Nope.

Not even a little.

Not at all.

I had zero intentions of catching feelings ever again. And there was no way in hell I’d allow myself to catch them for the woman sitting in my truck, the co-worker who irritated the fuck out of me every day.

Awkward silence filled the cab as I drove back to the office.

Until my phone rang. “Sheppard. You’re on speaker.”

“We found something you need to see.”

Before Doug could say anything else, I said, “We’re fifteen minutes out.”

“Meet us in the conference room.”

I barely had time to say, “Copy that,” before he disconnected the call.

“Just what we need, more good news.” I said, laying the sarcasm on thick.

Maxwell nodded, but didn’t answer as her fingers tapped a nervous rhythm on her thighs.

The sinking feeling in my gut encouraged me to press the accelerator and push the boundaries of what the local cops considered “acceptable” speeding.

Back in the conference room, Doug had a bunch of images up on the big screen. He’d been running facial recognition for Wendy and our mystery man in the greater Parker and Dallas counties.

“I think we found your guy,” he said.

I walked up to the screen, and peered at the pictures. Maxwell stood right beside me, smelling delicious.Nope. Can’t think like that.

“Who is he?” she asked.

“His name is Robert Roman.”

Turning around, I said. “So Mr. R. is a Roman.” It shouldn’t have surprised me, having considered the possibility, but I’d hoped, for Wendy’s sake, it wouldn’t be true.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” my father answered. “And by all accounts, he’s spoiled rotten and has caused more than his fair share of trouble.”

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