Flirting with Disaster (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 2)

She dropped back to flat feet and smiled. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Good.”

She smiled so sweetly up at him that he couldn’t resist one more kiss, because it might be the only time she looked so sweet for him. It might even be the last kiss. Every lie they told each other made it more likely.

He pulled reluctantly away, lingering over the taste, but once he got to the front door, he put it from his mind completely.

He had to do his job, whether he wanted to or not. And then the call came through.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ISABELLE WAS GLAD she’d had trouble sleeping that morning when she saw the black sedan climb up her driveway. Glad, because she’d decided to get out of bed early and go for a snowshoe hike through the trees, and she wasn’t inside to answer the door when the man knocked.

She’d ducked behind a tree when she saw the unfamiliar vehicle, thanks to instincts honed from years of avoiding strangers. But as soon as the man stepped out, she knew he was one of Tom’s guys. There was no mistaking the dark suit and the flash of a shoulder holster when he reached up to shield his eyes from the sun.

Isabelle watched as he knocked on her door. He was impatient and obviously on a long shift. This wasn’t the first time he’d run his hand through his short hair. It stuck up in odd angles. But whatever assignment Tom had given the guy, she wasn’t going to help out. He could keep on canvassing the area without her input. She didn’t want to interact with more law enforcement than she needed to. She was being stupid enough with Tom as it was.

She frowned when the man cupped his hands around his eyes and tried to look into her window. She considered shouting at him and telling him to get the fuck off her porch, but he gave up quickly and headed back to his car.

“Dick,” she muttered, before turning to trudge into the fresh snow. She might let Mary into her house and Tom into her bed, but that was the end of her cooperation with the feds. If that Stevenson guy had been spotted in the area, Tom would’ve called her himself.

She stopped for a moment when her heart tripped over itself, wondering if she was actually in danger. She held her breath and listened to the forest around her. It was as still as ever. But not quiet. Not if you really listened.

Birds called to each other. Pine boughs shushed in the wind. Branches creaked. Water trickled into tiny streams beneath the snow. Everything was normal.

And the guy hadn’t looked worried about her or even alarmed. He’d just looked irritated.

Still, when her phone rang, Isabelle jumped. The fronts of her snowshoes sank into the snow, and she pinwheeled her arms, desperately trying to keep upright. She’d done this before, and she didn’t relish falling face-first in the deep snow; it always took a remarkably long time to get upright again.

She finally shifted her weight backward and breathed a sigh of relief before digging her phone out of the pocket of her jacket.

“Hey,” she said when she saw it was Lauren.

“Oh, my God, your new boyfriend is so sexy!”

“Yes,” she agreed immediately, before realizing she shouldn’t. “I mean, what?”

Lauren laughed. “I knew it. Anyway, congratulations on boning a hero.”

“What?” she asked with genuine surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“You are so disconnected,” Lauren groaned. “Have you seriously not heard?”

“Tell me!” Isabelle shrieked, suddenly alarmed about what that guy in the suit might have wanted. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. But he raided a motel in Jackson this morning and caught one of those survivalist guys.”

Isabelle almost fell over again and had to sit down on her butt to stop from teetering. “Really?”

“Yes, really!”

“God,” she breathed, “that is sexy.” She imagined him kicking down a door with his gun drawn and actually sighed with lust. An awfully sick reaction considering her own ambiguous legal status and hatred of cops. But some things soaked into you from birth.

“Is he really your boyfriend?” Lauren asked in a lower tone.

“No.” She heard the note of regret in her voice and shook it off. “Definitely not my boyfriend.”