Page 444 of Hell Hath No Fury
“What?”
“I was saying that I would sincerely like the opportunity to accompany you on an evening about the town.”
“Youdidhear me say I left a date to bring these files to my boss, right?”
“I did, but the guy sounds like a clod. You’d have more fun with me, I promise.”
“How could you know that Chas is a clod? I didn’t even bring him up.”
“But you’re not denying it. Plus, his name is Chas. That’s a clod name.”
For the first time, I could see Pearl fighting back a smile and I knew I had a shot. I also remember the distinct feeling that we’d met before creeping up again.
“Duke! We’re gonna head out to the impound lot. You comin’?” Cutter called out.
“You go on, I’ll catch up,” I yelled back.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Pearl said.
“Wouldn’t what?”
“Stick around on my account. I’m going inside now, so you should probably leave with your little friends.”
“Oh, they aren’t my friends. Not exactly, anyway. Just some guys I met while enjoying the fine accommodations of your lovely jail.”
“Regardless,” Pearl said. “I really must be going and so should you.” She turned and started back up the stairs, giving me a fantastic view of her ass, and it was without a doubt, the finest backside I’d ever seen.
“Wait, you never answered my question,” I called out to her.
“What question?” she asked without turning around.
“Will you go out with me tonight?”
“Goodnight, Mr. Duke,” she said with a wave before disappearing through the front doors of the building.
“I’m gonna marry that woman,” I said out loud to no one, before double-timing it to catch up with the Burning Saints, ignoring Mr. Bird’s pathetic cries of objection as I started off down the street.
CHAPTER FOUR
Pearl
“You’re late!” An all too familiar voice bellowed from behind a battered green, government issue, metal desk. I barely had time to shake off the brief but intense interaction with the ruggedly handsome biker as I entered my boss’s office. I typically wasn’t drawn toward the criminal element, but there was something about the man’s shaggy hair and leathers that affected me in unexpected ways. I don’t know what possessed me to give him the time of day, let alone talk to him in such a familiar way.
“How can I be late, when I’m not even supposed to be here tonight?” I asked, carefully placing the files squarely on top of the desk.
“Law enforcement never sleeps. You know that, Grace.”
“I wasn’t sleeping. I was on a date, and you know that perfectly well,” I replied.
“I’m not sure I like that Waterford boy. There’s something about him I don’t trust.”
“You don’t trust anyone, and besides, my love life is none of your business.”
“Don’t say “love life” in front of your father, missy. It’s disrespectful. And I’ll be the judge, jury, and blessed executioner when it comes to who is and isn’t good enough for my little girl.”
“I’m not your little—”
“Don’t you sass me,” my father chided as if I was still six years old and in pigtails, thus nullifying my objection entirely.
