Right. Hand at my throat. Fingers between my legs. Mind-bending, leg-shaking orgasm. It’s hard to forget. But so is the asshole he turned into after. I’m still pissed.
And maybe I need Decker to pay for that. Maybe I need to teach him a lesson.
Matching his smirk, I angle in until our lips nearly touch. “I guess it did.”
We stare at each other, and he does that thing. Looks at me too long, thinking, assessing. Then he smiles, reaches over me, and yanks my keys from the ignition.
“Hey.” I lunge for them, but he dodges me and takes a step back. When he shoves them into his pocket, I’m forced to fully jump off my bike.
“Five minutes,” he says.
“Fine. But just know I’m intimately familiar with how to use a knife. And I’ve taken enough self-defence classes to put you on your ass. Don’t mess with me, Linc.”
Hands raised in surrender, he does a slow scan of my body. “Not sure where you could be hiding a knife in jeans that tight, Gracie. But noted.”
“In my boot,” I tell him. “And I’ll be keeping it securely on my person this time, Officer Decker. So don’t even think about frisking me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He skirts around my bike and heads down the driveway. “This way.”
“Isn’t this trespassing?”
“Technically, yeah. But the place is empty. Owners haven’t been back here in years.”
Against my better judgement, I follow him down the dark driveway. The white siding of the farmhouse is worn and peeling, the weathered wraparound porch rotted out and missing several planks of wood, and most of the front windows have been boarded up. All the farms around here started falling into disrepair like this even before I left town. The fields left uncared for, the homes decrepit and dying.
“Why don’t you tell me about the trouble you’re in?” Decker says.
“What makes you think I’m in trouble?” I ask as we round the sinking structure and wander towards the overgrown field behind it.
“You’re scared.”
I snort, ignoring the truth in his words. “You don’t know shit about me.”
“Maybe not. But I can tell when someone’s running. When they’re keeping a secret. Plus the drugs and cash were a deadgiveaway. So I’ll ask again. What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?”
I lift my chin. “Playing cop again?”
“Bad habit.”
When we get to a low wired fence, Decker climbs the closest wooden post and hops over, then turns back and offers me a hand. I take it, careful not to let the barb snag my jeans as I kick one leg over, and then the other.
Decker’s hands steady at my waist as I hit the ground with a light thud.
“A little farther.” He releases me, then strides forward and is quickly swallowed up by the impossibly tall grass.
I trip on the uneven ground as I tread in after him, but a heartbeat before I faceplant, a warm hand catches mine, and he tugs me up.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
When I tug to free myself from his hold, he tightens his grip and silently leads me through the overgrown field. The only light guiding us comes from the bright full moon illuminating the night sky. It makes it difficult not to stumble in the deep divots littering the ground, but each time I do, he’s there, steadying me.
Finally, the jungle of overgrowth thins, and we find ourselves in a small clearing. A tiny pasture tucked out of sight.
“What are we doing out here?”
He shrugs. “I walk out this way when I need to think. It’s quiet. I like the quiet. Especially during weeks like this. All the fucking tourists drive me crazy.”
I step closer, pressing my chest to his, and when he snakes his arms around me, I don’t pull back. Craning up my neck, I ask, “And what do you need to think about?”
