Page 20 of Floodgates

“Then why are you?”

He changed the subject. “You noticed that your thug partner saw me, right?”

I scoffed at the implication. “My partner is not a criminal.”

“Just—”

“Cord,” I said softly, reaching him, then crossing my arms as I hovered. “He’s not. I would not work with a criminal. Can we give this a rest?”

“Yes, you would, if you thought underneath he was a good guy.”

I threw up my hands. “You’ve got the—”

He grabbed my right wrist and yanked me down beside him on the porch.

“For crissakes, Nolan,” I groused at him, straightening up, bracing myself with a hand on his muscular thigh.

“I thought you were going to get married.”

“What?” I asked, turning to look at him.

“Breckin Alcott.”

“Yeah?”

“Your brother said you were going to marry him.”

“I was,” I said, sniffling, able to slide over, put some distance between his big, hard, warm body and mine. “I still might. We’re taking some time.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Why are we talking about this?” I asked defensively. “Since when do you even care?”

“You smell like smoke and sweat,” he snapped disdainfully. “And alcohol.”

“Cigarettes and sweat I’ll give you, but what does vodka smell like? Nothing. It smells like nothing, so—”

“You’re hammered,” he accused me.

“I am not.” I defended myself, shivering in the chill air.

“Go in if you’re cold.”

“I am,” I snapped at him, irritated. “Why do you always have to bark out orders at everyone?”

“Maybe it’s just you,” he said gruffly. “You ever considered that?”

And I hadn’t, really.

“You don’t think about me at all,” he mumbled.

It was an odd thing to say, just out of the blue. “That’s not true,” I said too quickly.

“No?”

“No,” I answered, my voice much too breathy, but unable to get any louder. He was just so there, in my space, always too close. His height, his presence, the broad shoulders, and the burly chest, all of him made me want to touch, just once, to see what the muscles felt like that rippled under his clothes. I heard from other people that he intimidated them, but I had never gotten that. All I registered was heat. As he leaned close, my shiver was involuntary; there was no way to hide my reaction.

“Go inside,” he husked. “I’m just waiting for the patrol car to show up. They got pulled off because someone thought they heard a prowler.”