The ’...Into You’ 2-Book Collection: Crash Into You, Melt Into You. Roni Loren

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СКАЧАТЬ rocked against his touch, and he slipped his hand below the waistband, sliding his fingers along her hot button before dipping lower.

      Her head tipped back, sharp darts of pleasure ­shooting through her. “Oh, God.”

      Reid groaned and pulled his hand back.

      A flutter of panic seized her. Why was he stopping? “What’s wrong?”

      He stared down at her, lines of strain etching his face. “Brynn, tell me to stop.”

      She wet her lips, her throat going dry. “Why?”

      “Because this isn’t why I brought you here.” He raked a hand through his dark hair. “And because if you don’t, I’m going to strip you bare and fuck you until you scream so loud the people flying overhead will be able to hear you come.”

      “The hell you are,” said a booming, southern voice.

      Brynn jumped at the stranger’s words, scrambling to pull her top closed and her skirt down. “Shit, shit, shit.”

      The beam of a flashlight pierced the darkness, and Reid put a hand up to block his eyes. “Hello?”

      A stern, middle-aged face peered over the side of the truck. The state trooper adjusted the brim of his hat. “What the hell do you two think you’re doing?”

      Reid sat upright, scooting in front of Brynn. “Evening, Officer. We were just, uh, having a little dinner.”

      “Uh-huh,” the man said, shining the flashlight on Brynn as she fastened the last button on her shirt. “I have a feeling I know what’s on the menu. Do you kids know I could arrest you for indecency in a public park? Or worse.” He turned his light back to Reid. “You didn’t give this young lady money for her services, did you?”

      Brynn’s mouth dropped open. “Jesus, I’m not a prostitute. We were just kissing.”

      The cop quirked an eyebrow at her. “Well, then I suggest the two of you try to conduct yourselves in a more respectable manner. If I catch either of you out here again, I’ll take you both in.”

      Reid raised his hands and gave the officer a smile that dripped with sincerity. “We are so sorry, Officer. It won’t happen again. We’ll get right on out of here. Thank you for letting us by with a warning.”

      The cop grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. Waiting.

      They hurriedly gathered their things and climbed into the cab of the truck. Brynn’s cheeks burned so hot, she was sure she had turned a shade of purple. God, how had she let that get so out of hand? She’d never lost control like that with anyone. One kiss and she’d been ready to screw Reid until the sun came up. All the reasons of why a relationship with him was a terrible idea had evaporated from her mind the instant his lips had touched hers. Dangerous.

      Reid merged onto the highway and after a long stretch of silence, cleared his throat. “You okay?”

      No. “I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed.”

      He gave her a rueful smile. “Sorry about what happened.”

      She turned to look out the window, afraid that he’d be able to read her thoughts on her face. “Not your fault. I’m just glad he didn’t take us in.”

      “No kidding. I can’t even imagine how happy the media would’ve been over that—candidate’s nephew gets arrested for public indecency. My aunt and uncle would’ve had a shit fit.”

      She stared out the window as cars whizzed by, feeling like she was in some alternate universe. Reid’s biggest worry about an arrest was media coverage; hers was that she’d have no one to post bail to get her out. The contrast would’ve been laughable if it wasn’t so damn depressing.

      He reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I promise less mortification and threat of arrest on our next date.”

      She closed her eyes and leaned against the headrest, hoping he would take the hint she didn’t want to talk. She’d thought that maybe she’d be able to keep it light and have a little fun, but an hour alone with Reid and she’d been ready to lose herself. Something she couldn’t afford to do with someone like him. She couldn’t tell him right now, but no matter how much she liked him, there would be no second date.

FIVE

       now

      Reid ordered another coffee and dumped some salsa on his huevos rancheros while Detective Will Green examined the papers Reid had given him. Reid knew not to bother the man once he’d retreated into the zone—that place where cops go when trying to put all the pieces together. But he couldn’t help but watch every tick of the cop’s expression, hoping Will saw as much potential in the documents as he had.

      One refill and a clean plate later, the detective looked up, lines of frustration cutting into his dark skin. “Where did you get this?”

      Reid dodged the question, not ready to tell the detective he’d found the ledger—via illegal search—in a hollowed out dictionary in Kelsey’s nightstand. “Kelsey, the vic’s youngest daughter, contacted Hank about the evidence a few days ago. I think she found it when she went through some of her mother’s old things. I just got ahold of it last night, but from what I can tell, the ledger lists all of the victim’s client appointments and payments going back two years before her death. Including a big transaction scheduled for the day she was killed.”

      He nodded. “Yeah, I saw that. Not sure what a hooker could do to warrant a twenty-five-thousand-dollar fee. No lay is that good.”

      Reid gave him a humorless smile. “Celia LeBreck used to work in the high-end strip clubs. Not until after she had her second child did she start turning tricks on the street. Maybe she still had connections to someone she met in her glory days.” He pointed at the photocopies he’d made of Celia’s appointment book. “This J. Kennedy person listed on the last day. He’s in there a number of times before that, but only for a thousand bucks at a time.”

      Will’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe she had something on him and was upping the ante.”

      “That’s what I’m thinking,” Reid said, nodding. “And maybe he didn’t want to pay up.”

      “This definitely throws suspicion away from your client. I never did believe that kid was the guy, but I don’t know if this is enough to get you an appeal.” The detective stared at the copies again, rubbing his chin. “Unless we can figure out her code and actually get some solid suspects. Every name in here is a fake one.”

      Reid sank back in the booth and sighed. “Yeah. J. Kennedy, C. Eastwood, S. Poitier, A. Lincoln. All celebrities or historical figures. Smart lady—protecting her ass and her clients.”

      The waitress stopped by and refilled Will’s coffee cup. He dumped a few packets of sugar in and stirred, the contemplative look crossing his face again. “My guess would be that she didn’t pick the names randomly. If this was her way of keeping people straight, she probably had some reason to assign each name. Like Sidney Poitier probably isn’t a young white guy.”

      Reid nodded. СКАЧАТЬ