Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 (26 page)

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I shrugged. “I had to be sure. It has been one
crazy
night.” My stomach grumbled loudly and a laid a hand over it. “Could be my blood sugar.”

“Could be her cheating boyfriend,” Herman offered.

“Could be the guy who kidnapped me didn’t feed me, asshole!” I glared at my now meek captor.

The cop’s lips twitched. I could tell he didn’t know what to make of the situation yet. “And who’s this guy?” He jerked his head toward Roan.

“Her boyfriend,” Roan replied.

“Ex.” I sighed. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Babe, we can work it out.” His pleading, whiny voice hit a nerve.

“You call me ‘babe’ one more time and you’ll be working your testicles out of your throat. Got it?” Then I slapped my forehead. I’d just threatened him in front of a cop. This was not going well. Still, I preferred jail to death. Staring at the cop, I frowned. “So are you going to arrest me?”

“Ma’am, I don’t even know why I’m here yet. I was called for Marilyn Monroe disturbing the peace.” He looked me over a moment and his gaze rested on my shackled wrist. “What’s that about?”

Before I could respond, I heard a commotion behind me. “Delilah!  Oh my God. Are you okay? Carter called me to check on you. Said you’d gone rogue and were all over the place.” Denzi rushed over and wrapped her arms around me as best she could given the handcuff. “Hey. What’s this?” She lifted my wrist.

“Denzi, thank goodness you’re here. Never leave me again...as soon as you come back with a Napoleon and a chocolate croissant.” I pushed her toward the counter as she eyed me curiously. “Serious. I’m dying. Go.”

Slowly, Denzi walked away and the officer snapped his holster and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ready to explain?”

“I’m a decoy.” I frowned at Herman. “His wife hired us because she thought he was cheating. Instead, it was much worse. He’s a murderer and rapist.” Roan gasped and started to close the distance between us. I whipped around and glared at him. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

“Sir, please back up.” The officer held out his hand to show Roan needed to keep his distance. Then he stared at Herman who suddenly looked really small as he dangled from my wrist. “This guy?”

I nodded. “Yup. Drugged me. Dressed me. Planned to rape and murder me.” From behind him, Denzi rushed over with the food I’d requested. Holding out my hand, I grabbed the croissant from her and took a huge bite. My eyes closed as I savored the first bit of nourishment I’d had since lunch time. “I love you, Denzi.”

“It’s the hunger talking,” she joked.

“No, you saved me. I was dying of hunger.” I grinned as started to take another bite.

“Ma’am?” The officer struggled to get my attention.

“Right. Shouldn’t you be taking my statement at the police station or something? Oh, and I really need to pee too.” My eyes widened as my bladder warned of impending doom.

“Okay. Well, let’s get you free.” The officer reached for his handcuff keys, but I beat him to it, grabbing the one from my bra.

“Gotcha covered,” I mumbled with my mouth full.

He shook his head. “How do you have those if you’re the victim?”

I swallowed and slapped my chest as the food went down hard. Man, did I need a drink. “I stole them when he tried to escape. I wasn’t letting him get away.” I shrugged.

There was an indecipherable look in his eyes. “You’re really something,” the officer noted. “Let me call for backup and we’ll get this all sorted out.” Taking my keys, the officer uncuffed me and secured Herman’s wrists behind his back.

With two hands free to eat, I felt much better. “Hey Denzi, I’ll love you forever if you get me a drink.”

She chuckled. “I thought you already loved me forever.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean
forever
forever.” I giggled. “I have no purse. It’s in his car, I think, along with my phone.”

“Carter’s gonna shit a brick when he finds out about all this.” She shook her head as she walked away.

“Why?” I wondered. “He still hasn’t lost a decoy yet. Perfect record. Plus I foiled a serial killer. I should get a damn medal. And a raise.”

“I’ve always hated your job,” Roan complained.

“Go away Roan. I’m kinda hating you right now.” I didn’t even look at him, I just kept eating my croissant. “This is amazing,” I gushed as I held the pastry out to the cop. “Try it.”

He grinned, showing perfect white straight teeth and I think I fell in love. “Can’t do it.”

“Because it’s not a donut,” I teased.

“No...” He stared at me a moment. “The timing is all off.”

“There’s never a wrong time to eat.” I eyed him meaningfully.

His head tilted and he gave me a lopsided grin. “You know what? At some point, when this is all over, if you want to share a meal, I’ll ask you. Right now, we have all this going on.” He glanced between Roan and Herman, both of whom were shifting uncomfortably.

I nodded sadly. “I get it.”

Denzi rushed back with a sweet tea. “What’d I miss?”

“The cop won’t share my croissant with me because of Roan and Herman.” I shrugged.

The officer threw his head back and laughed. “That’s not exactly how it went down.”  He smiled at me and we shared a moment as more officers flooded the scene.

One officer pulled Roan aside to take his statement. Another took Herman and exited the bakery. The crime scene unit had arrived to process the car. For a moment, Denzi disappeared when her phone rang. A second later she returned, holding it out for me. “It’s Carter,” she warned.

“Delilah,” he growled, “you broke the rules tonight.” There was an edge to his voice that had me instantly on the defensive.

“Which rule is that?” My confusion was genuine.

“No secondary locations!”

“Seriously? He drugged me. I woke up passed out in the car. It’s not like I did this on purpose.” I waited for his response, but for once, Carter was silent. “Are you going to try to fire me for this? Are you kidding me? I could’ve been killed working a job you assigned me and you’re going to not only blame me, but punish me for it?” I held the phone out for Denzi. “Take it before I say something I mean.”

Denzi put the phone to her ear once more. “If she goes, I go, Carter. Think about it.” Then she ended the call and dropped the phone in her purse.

“Cute,” I commented as I pointed to her bag. “New?”

“Yeah. Bought it last night after work.” Denzi yawned. “Can you come home now?”

We both looked at the hot officer who frowned. “I’m afraid not. I still have more questions.”

“Is one of them if she’ll go out with you? The answer is ‘yes,’” Denzi shoved me toward him.

His lips twitched. “I’ll need a contact number.”

“Dammit. My phone is in Herman’s car.” I threw my hands up in the air.

“Use mine.” Denzi nudged me.

“Please, so you can steal my new would-be boyfriend with your hotness and adorable ways? No, thank you.” I shook my head.

“Delilah Morgan, you wound me. I’m not that kind of girl.” She glanced over at the officer. “I’m really not.”

I sighed. “She isn’t. I’m insecure.”

“Too many bad relationships,” Denzi explained while shaking her head.

“You do seem to be attracting the wrong kind of guys lately.” He agreed.

My cheeks went up in flames. “And what are you?”

“I’m the right kind of guy at the wrong time.” He grinned.

I licked my lips as I stared at him. My cheeks couldn’t get any redder so I decided to go for it. “Will tomorrow be better?”

He looked at me in a way that sent goose bumps all over my skin. “You can go,” he said to Denzi even though his eyes never left mine. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

Without saying a word, Denzi took a picture of him with her phone. Then she glanced my direction. “What the hell?” She shrugged and took one of me too. “Trust no one is my new motto.”

The officer chuckled. “What about you?”

I smiled. “I don’t have a motto. I’m just going to work on my timing.”  

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About Emma Nichols

––––––––

W
hat made her decide to be an erotica author?

Simple.

How else was she going to parlay her two favorite past times into a career?

Emma is single and loving it. Like her first character, Alysin, Sin for short, she doesn't believe in settling or in settling down. She loves to indulge in her passions whenever the mood strikes and enjoys keeping all of life's cliché moments spicy.

Known for her sense of humor, Emma surrounds herself with friends whose antics often become the source of book fodder. Her ideal situation would be to explore the Caribbean while writing. She pursues that dream daily.

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Connect with Emma Nichols

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ign up for her weekly newsletter:
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Book Boyfriend by Melanie Shawn

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C
HAPTER ONE

Michelle

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I
edged the corner of the hardcover book a little closer to the window where it sat on the sill. I held my phone up in front of the tableau I was creating, looked at the picture it made on the screen, and scowled. Hmmm. It still wasn't exactly right. So I inched a few steps to the left, reexamined the scene from a new perspective, and then lifted my eyebrow. Again...hmmm. Okay. Not bad. Definitely getting closer, at any rate. But it still wasn't exactly the aesthetic I had in my mind.

"Shit," I hissed under my breath. The sun was setting, and I was going to lose the gorgeous golden-hour light streaming through the window within minutes if I didn't hurry.

"Hey, Michelle. What's up?"

I turned around toward my friend and coworker, Brandy. She and I always ended up together on these dead shifts at the library. We both did work study there, and it seemed like nobody else wanted these awkward night and weekend shifts. Everyone else had friends, clubs, social lives. Significant others. Brandy wanted this schedule because she and her twin sister, Sandy, were putting themselves through school and she needed every penny she could get her hands on.

Me? I simply had no life.

"Hey, Bran. Nothing much. I'm on reshelving duty tonight, but I finished half an hour ago. You?"

"Same lyrics, different song. I processed all the returns and sent out late notices. I guess it was pretty dead today. Not much night work." She pointed at the artsy arrangement of books I had built in front of the window. "Is this for your Instagram?"

I nodded. "Yeah. But something's missing. I love the interplay of the gorgeous sunset light streaming in on the faded brown leather of the book cover. And the deep green of the pine trees in the background through the window definitely fits beautifully in that color story. But it needs something else. I just can't figure out what."

Brandy tilted her head to the side and knit her brows together for a moment before an idea lit up her face. She hurried off, tossing a, "Be right back!" over her shoulder.

While I waited for her to come back, I turned my gaze to the scene outside the window and breathed a sigh of contentment. I was in my second year at Winship University, a private liberal arts college located just outside Arcata, CA, and I absolutely loved it. The school was in lush, wooded Humboldt County, six hours north of San Francisco on the Northern California coastline. It was far and away the most beautiful place I had ever lived.

The natural beauty was one of the great factors, of course, but I also loved that Winship offered one of the premier Library Science programs in the country. People could talk all they wanted about how the printed word was dying out, and digital books were taking over the future, and on and on. I didn’t care. I loved books. Heavy, hardcover, printed books. They were my drug of choice, and I was happily addicted, with no plans to rehabilitate. Plus, the library system had saved my life and sanity when I was younger, giving me an outlet and an escape, and I felt honored to have the chance to return that favor by devoting my life to working in it.

Yep, I loved Winship. I loved Arcata. I loved my major. I loved my life. Would I have liked to have a bit more active social life? Sure. A few more friends? Yeah. Maybe even...a boyfriend? Of course. But, as the old saying went, God didn’t give with both hands. For now, I was quietly content spending long evenings working in the library with Brandy...and, of course, my “true loves”—the books.

Brandy came rushing in then, carrying a tiny, perfectly-formed bird's nest in her hands. She held it out to me, a flush of triumph coloring her cheeks. "I saw it on the outside planter retaining wall as I was walking in to work. I think it fell from the roof or the eaves. I'm not sure. But it's beautiful, right?"

I nodded, excitement bubbling up inside my chest as the picture took shape in my mind. I positioned the lovely little nest in front of the book and angled the two of them so that they caught the light beautifully. After snapping a few photos of the scene from various angles until I was satisfied, I chose my favorite and uploaded it to Instagram.

"Ok, then," I mumbled aloud as my thumbs flew across the screen. "It's all set. Just gotta caption it. ‘
What's better than a beautiful sunset? A beautiful sunset with books, of course. Working in the library with my buddy Brandy. This was a joint effort.’ Now how should I tag it? Let’s see...‘#nightlibrarian #librarylife #birdsandbooks #nofilter #bringtheoutdoorsin.’
Oh, and can’t forget the standards!
‘#bookstagram #books #booklove #bookworm
.’ There. And...posted."

I grinned at Brandy, but I was caught up short when I saw who was standing there instead of her, grinning right back at me.

Sebastian Winters.

Gulp.

He'd obviously been watching me the whole time I’d been typing on my phone and narrating my caption aloud. It was clear from the way he was smiling. What I didn't know, however, was what that smile meant. Did he think I was cute? Or weird? Or pathetic? Or something entirely different?

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