First Time For Everything. Aimee Carson

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      As if preparing for an interesting story, Blake leaned back, his posture one of a man in control. One arm thrown along the seat behind her. One leg crossed over the other. And two eyes focused on her as if daring her to impress him with her explanation.

      “Then what was your intention?” he said.

      “I work as a music therapist at South Glade Teen Center, an after-school club for kids. The county pulled their funding…”

      Her heart rate jumped, fear squeezing her chest. The club provided a safe place for the kids to be themselves. To belong. Without the facility, her high school years would have been unbearable. Shifting from foster family to foster family, South Glade had been the only constant, the one place she’d truly felt at home. Losing it now wasn’t an option.

      Seeking calm, she rubbed the small tattoo that partially disguised the two well-healed scars on her wrist. Warrior wounds, she liked to call them. Symbols of her past. They reminded her of who she was.

      And how far she’d come.

      She straightened her shoulders and pushed the panic aside. “So I wanted to gain a little positive publicity for our cause.”

      “By getting arrested?”

      Was he mocking her?

      She inhaled a soothing breath, straining for patience. “That’s how Nikki got involved. A mutual friend asked her for tips on how to proceed legally.”

      And you should have followed Nikki’s advice more closely, Jax.

      Blake appeared unimpressed with her explanation. “Well, according to the police report, the music blaring from your VW Beetle was loud enough to disturb the peace.”

      Inwardly, she winced, hating her defensive tone. “I told Nikki it’s kinda hard to keep the beat to music you can’t hear.”

      He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Not to mention the dance move that landed you on the sidewalk where you—” he leaned forward to the seat across from them and retrieved the report, scanning the page “—and I quote…‘failed to comply with a lawful order to cease from obstructing a public sidewalk.’ End quote.”

      His gaze landed on hers again, and heat crept up her face, but she refused to let him see her blush. So Jax concentrated very hard on brushing away the grains of sand clinging to her denim cutoffs, remnants of her time spent on the ground.

      “I couldn’t hear the police officer’s order to move because of the music,” she mumbled.

      “Precisely,” he said evenly.

      She shot him a look she hoped was veiled by her lashes, her voice growing stronger. “And I didn’t intend to land on the sidewalk. I just overshot my mark doing the Worm.”

      He raised a brow higher. “I assume you’re referring to the dance step that involved you undulating along the ground on your belly.”

      He set the report on the seat between them and went still, as if he couldn’t wait for her to explain further. Somehow she didn’t think further details would help.

      “The maneuver isn’t easy to do,” she said.

      “It certainly looked painful.”

      She ignored him and went on. “And I unintentionally positioned myself in the wrong spot. I didn’t know that I was getting too close to the walkway.”

      “In retrospect, a fatal error in judgment,” he said drily.

      The sarcasm was really getting on her nerves.

      “There was no time to practice,” she said. “We needed to react quickly to the budget cuts. While the news was fresh in the public’s mind.”

      He settled a little deeper into the seat. “And you thought taking the teens you were responsible for out on a flash mob and risking arrest was a good expression of your dissatisfaction?”

      Jeez, putting it like that made her feel like a crazy lady. “I told you, I was trying to keep it legal.”

      Above the pristine tux and the tanned, flawless complexion of his face, the two dark slashes of eyebrows were perfectly schooled into a noncommittal expression. And despite the sophisticated polish and the undertones of skepticism, she suddenly got the impression that Blake Bennington was as amused as he was disapproving of her actions.

      She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Deep down, you find this whole thing funny, don’t you?”

      “Just the part where your carefully planned flash mob was ruined by a dance move.” His lips twitched, as if suppressing a grin. “Perhaps next time you’ll plan your routine more carefully.”

      The hint of restrained humor was annoying, and she said, “And perhaps Officer Brown will learn to lighten up a little?”

      His eyebrows shot higher as the gray eyes grew dark, holding her in their power as he leaned closer. She’d obviously stepped on a nerve.

      “I can assure you, Ms. Lee. When it comes to people who break the law—” his voice was deadly soft, and his proximity brought her attraction back in full force “—both Officer Brown and I take our jobs very seriously.”

      Trapped by the force of his gaze, Jax’s heart rapped harder beneath her ribs. Getting beyond the thickly fringed, hypnotizing eyes was difficult, but she finally allowed her gaze to skim down the angular planes of his face, landing on his mouth.

      Oh, great…he had lips just the way she liked them. Full. Sensual. The kind that could kiss a girl senseless and make her forget she’d sworn off men forever. Or at least until she found one who didn’t think she was certifiable.

      And Superman here, with the eyes of steel, clearly wasn’t the type.

      As their staring contest continued, another heated flush slowly crept up her face, but she refused to feel ashamed. Because regret would keep her tethered to the past, unable to move on.

      Relying on an innocent expression to tone down her statement, she said, “Are you lecturing me?” She lightly scrunched up her face, as if she didn’t already know the answer. “Because this is beginning to feel a lot like a lecture.”

      Amazingly, his lips twitched. “Not at all. But since you now have several charges filed against you requiring your attention, you should learn to follow advice.”

      Advice? Pressing her lips together, Jax turned her gaze to the window, drumming her fingers against the leather seat. Advice seemed a tame description for 007’s fetish for control. Not to mention those disturbing shoulders that were so broad you’d need a map to kiss your way from one side to the other…

      Shoulders currently encased in a tuxedo—a blatant reminder of how he’d sacrificed his plans to help her out, and here she was taking issue with his every word. She curled her hand into a fist.

      Oh, perfect—guilt. Just what she didn’t need.

      She let out a sigh. “Look, I know you had plans.” She СКАЧАТЬ