Sworn to Be His ( The Archer Family 3)

Chapter 5

Jade glanced at her tabby cat and tried her best to determine whether the judgment in the animal's eyes was all in her head or if she was actually scowling at her outfit. Worse, Jade wasn't sure if she could blame the cat for her attitude.

At best, she was dolled up in second-rate hooker attire, stuff she'd had from way back in college when she'd been a regular in the shadow cast of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. She glanced in the mirror and smoothed her hair over the more revealing cleavage from her black studded corset. On her hands, she wore black lace gloves—like a reject from a Madonna video. And on her feet were the tallest platform stilettos she'd been able to find—complete with rhinestone heels.

She looked like what she was supposed to be.

A stripper on her way to the job.

God help her.

She'd had to spend the better part of her afternoon practicing how to walk in the shoes, all while her tabby's watchful eyes judged her from the couch, but she'd finally managed it. Now, all she had to do was walk into the club tonight and act like she belonged.

"That would be a lot easier if I could breathe in this thing." She fiddled with the zipper on the front of her corset, but then left it alone. The thing was precarious enough as it was, no need to tempt fate.

So, gathering up her things, she sat in front of the bay window in her tiny living room and hoped that Derrick would show up before any of her neighbors could catch sight of her getup. God only knew what old lady Johnson would say. She'd already nearly had a fit at the idea of Jade being a police officer. If that wasn't a respectable job, then...

Derrick's rickety white SUV pulled into her driveway and she briefly considered how bad it would be to cancel, but then she kicked off her shoes, picked them up, and sprinted as fast as she could to the car. Once inside, Derrick stared at her for a long minute—a strange twisted expression on his face.

"I'm not sure about this," he said at last.

"What do you mean?" She leaned over and put her shoes back on, careful to secure the heel. "Don't I look the part?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just..." He paused, and she was all too aware of the fact that they were still sitting there, idling in her driveway for all the world to see.

She ratcheted up her corset a little higher.

"Look, you don't have to do this. We can probably find a way to get one of the girls who works there involved—"

"These guys are dangerous. I'm not putting anyone else in the line of fire. Now come on, I'm going to miss my big debut." She grinned at him, and he eyed her for another long moment before backing out of the driveway and onto the street.

The rest of the ride was quiet enough, though the tension between them was as palpable as ever. Still, she couldn't tell whether it was just the nerves that went along with a gig like this or simply the fact that she didn't agree with him that had Derrick's wide shoulders locked so firmed and his square jaw set so tight.

But then there was a third option, too. One she wasn't willing to allow herself to consider.

One that might explain why he'd kept his gaze so resolutely on the road since she'd gotten into the car.

That simply wasn't possible. Derrick was just her friend. Their kiss had proven that. Sure, it had been warm and full and made something inside her sizzle, but that was because she'd been imagining what Zac would do if he saw them together.

It was all because of Zac.

Derrick pulled over to the side of the road and unlocked the door. "Okay, you can walk the rest of the way. Don't want them seeing us in the same car."

"Right." She nodded. "So...I'll see you inside." She craned her neck to look up at him as she scooted from the seat, but his gaze stayed fixed on the road as he gave her one firm nod.

"Great." She said, "And, um, you checked your wires and mics and everything?"

Look at me.

"Yep, all set," he said.

Look at me.

"Okay, awesome. I checked mine too, so, um, good." She closed the door and watched as he sped away, moving so fast she was surprised he didn't spew exhaust in her face. The club was only just around the corner, so the walk shouldn't be so bad. It would give her one last chance to learn how to walk in her heels.

And one last chance to figure out why he wouldn't look at her...

She shook her head. Stupid. What did it matter? He was probably just being professional as always, acknowledging that she was likely uncomfortable with baring so much skin. Not looking at her was the thing a gentleman in his position would do.