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Excerpt
Stretched t-shirt, dry blood and badass attitude looked good on him. That’s nothing
compared to Harrison Everhart wearing a suit. His tall, broad, body wrapped in
a dark gray is a site I want to photograph, frame and stare at it forever. He’s
the type of man who behaves differently depending on the place and time. For
the past five hours, we chatted pleasantly about our families. Nothing too
superficial but nothing too intimate, either. If I had time to date, he’d be
the kind of man I’d choose. Easy to talk to, funny, and a gentleman.
A refreshing touch from the guys who I hook up with when I have time to go out
with my friends. Which lately it’s been never. Maybe I have time, but I don’t
want to waste it by doing the same thing over and over again. Meeting a guy who
has little social skills, only talks about himself, and by the end of the date
is the only one who is satisfied isn’t great. I have my little friendly toys
that to do a better job and I don’t have to listen to nonsense.
This would be a great subject for a sociology class; the interactions between humans, and how out of touch they are with one another that dating has become a joke. What happened to love letters? The chase is so much different now than it was back when my parents dated. I should quit the Bureau and go back to school. Finish
my psychology degree, go into anthropology or sociology. I would enjoy doing
that more than having to jump through hoops to show that I’m capable of more
things than my superiors like to acknowledge. If anything, I can write a book
with Mom’s letters and notes.
A manual on how it’s done.
“Everything okay?” Harrison asks when the service car stops, and the driver opens my door. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party.”
Define okay? My skin tingles every time you touch me. Your deep voice makes me shiver, and dancing in your arms was a bit torturous because everything inside me wanted you to touch more than my bare shoulders and my waist. But yeah, I’m cool.
“Your brother and Hazel never arrived at the party,” I comment, not disclosing that
I’d like to find out how my fake future boyfriend kisses. “Gia wasn’t there either.”
“I’m sorry about that. If you want, I can try to find out her whereabouts. My people can hack her phone and track her daily activities. He smirks and winks. “We can start stalking her.”
“Stalking?” I boom, laughing and covering my mouth when a couple walking close to us turns to glare at me.
“Yeah, that’s the word and you know what they say, ‘couples that stalk together stay
together.’” He grins, his blue-crystal eyes shining with the post light.
That grin is addictive. I shouldn’t mind pretending to be with him while I’m working. A
little fun on the side, some sexy times. Sex. I haven’t had that in a long
time. So long that I can only remember what my toys can do for me. But I care.
He’s a distraction. Each time he smirks, touches me or talks with the
low-bedroom voice I want to jump him. That’s not only unprofessional but also
illogical.
“Anything for the sake of the case, right?” My voice comes out a little throaty, needy.
He clears his throat, looking around and poking the elevator. “We should do this again,” he says, leaning closer to me.
“Technically, we have to do it again.”
Have I mentioned this is the best case I’ve ever worked on in my entire life.” He
leans forward, kissing my cheek. His lips lingering close to my ear for one too
many seconds. His musk-wood scent making my stomach flutter.
“Thank you,” I swallow hard, turning around and stepping into the elevator. “We can
discuss our next move tomorrow.”
I poke the elevator, looking at the doors that start closing his gaze locks with
mine. His eyes darken, the intensity of that gaze makes me feel vulnerable, bare. I imagine my skin searing with the touch of his big hands. As the doors close, my phone rings. An incoming message. Unknown number reads the screen.
Unknown: This was the best first date I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.
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Author Bio
![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000039_00014]](https://thenextsteppr.files.wordpress.com/2017/10/enough6x9_450-v5.jpg?w=660)
Some things in life were inevitable; death, taxes, and lying, whoremongering men.
V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her mama over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn’t happen.
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