Page 138 of So Wild

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Food?”

“A couple of mints but that’s it.”

A slither of panic slipped down his spine. They had enough water to survive a forty-eight-hour stretch, but it wasn’t going to be pretty. Come Monday, he’d be the laughing stock of the station. Cop locks himself in evidence room? That was almost as bad as getting stuck in your own handcuffs. No one was going to let him live this shit down. Bonnie would be furious he’d missed their appointment and God knew what this would do for his career…Actually, he already knew what it was going to do for his career—nothing.

He turned to Julia. “You know computers. Can’t you…do something?”

She stared at him like he was crazy. “Yeah, okay. I’ll lump together a teleportation device from a tin can and some shitty plastic jewelry, will I?”

She was funny. He’d forgotten that. She’d made him laugh the night they met, all those fast little jabs like a boxer. That soft, pretty mouth…Down, boy.Max cleared his throat again. “Good point. Sorry for assuming.”

Her expression softened. “I was wondering if I could do anything as well, but there’s nowhere to connect to the local server, no Wi-Fi or phone reception. Unless you’ve got a working radio, we’re screwed.”

Max’s stomach descended about a mile. “In that case, I think we might be screwed.”

“Oh God.” Julia slumped back against the wall and slid down, hands clamped over her face. “This cannotbe happening.”

Max winced. If they were going to be locked in for a weekend, he couldn’t afford for her to succumb to panic, especially not this early in the game. Things were only going to get worse.

He squatted down in front of her. “Hey, can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

She peered out at him from between her fingers. “Great. I feel great. Everything’s going really well.”

“Julia, look at me.”

She didn’t reply. He could smell her, a soft vanilla scent mixed with coconut shampoo. “Come on. I can’t have you freaking out on me.”

He reached forward and brushed her wrist. She jerked away like he was on fire.

Max groaned, feeling like a predatory idiot. “Sorry, I’m not trying to declare myself lord of the property office or anything, but you need to talk to me.”

Her cheeks flushed red. She peeled her hands away, and somehow it felt like seduction, the slow exposure of pale skin and flushed lips. “Look, I’m fine. Nothing to see here, Max.”

His first instinct was to tell her never to say his name ever again. His second was to cup her lightly freckled cheeks and press his lips to hers. Kiss those letters off her mouth. Both were irrational. Neither was conducive to escaping the property office.

“How—how’s your breathing?”

“Fine.” She pressed a hand to her sternum. “My heart’s racing though. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.”

His own was far from steady but Max didn’t think that had anything to do with their situation. He stood. “Let me know if—when—everything returns to normal.”

“I will.” She swept her hair from her eyes and Max imagined it brushing across his bare chest, spread out on his pillow…If they were trapped, where would they sleep? Together? If Julia stayed all shaky and freaked out, would she want him to touch her? Hold her? He clenched his fists, his wedding ring biting into his skin. His urge tocomfortJulia was inconvenient and, quite frankly, creepy. All this misplaced attraction was clouding his head, making him sluggish. He needed to focus on getting a hundred miles away from Julia. He could shoot the door. Could you be sacked for deploying your weapon in order to escape a locked room?

“We could set the door on fire?” Julia was obviously sharing his desperation.

Max shook his head. “Destroying the station’s evidence would get us fired and most likely killed in a backdraft.”

Julia groaned. “At least tell me there’s enough air in here. Say you won’t have to mercy-strangle me?”

“Why? Are you claustrophobic?”

“No. I used to live in a cardboard box.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Julia’s cheeks turned bright red. “I mean when I was a kid. My sister and I used to take turns sleeping in a cardboard box; pretend it was a pirate ship, that kind of thing. I’ve never been homeless.”

Max wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite get past the idea that he was trapped in the Brenthill property office with Julia Bennett. “I’m sure there’s enough air getting in from the vents, and even if there wasn’t, I wouldn’t strangle you. Too much paperwork.”

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