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  Bourne’s friend, Jason, who was also a police officer, had apparently been the world’s biggest player ever. Then he’d met Ellie, and he’d changed his ways.

  At least, that was what Copeland and Janvier had said. Jamie had laughed and said that it wasn’t going to last. That Jason had always been and always would be a player. There’d been a suspicious gleam in her eye when she said that, making me feel like maybe she had firsthand knowledge of how he would do with marriage.

  Whatever the reason, that had been the start of me not liking her.

  “Jason’s a player. I hope that this marriage lasts for him, but with the way his eyes keep straying around the room, I’m not seeing how it’ll happen.” Sammy paused. “That was kind of rude of me to say, wasn’t it?”

  It was, but when it was the truth? Who knew? Maybe it was just something that was hard to swallow because you knew it was right. Even if you didn’t want to be.

  “A bit.” Bourne looked at me. “You want a drink?”

  I’d had cake, and that was only because someone had brought it over for Jamie, who said that she didn’t eat carbs during the week.

  Whatever that meant.

  I ate carbs all the damn time.

  I was my sister’s official taste tester, too. So on any given day, I had at least one donut.

  See, my sister owned a donut shop. But it wasn’t just any donut shop. My sister specialized in gourmet donuts as well as cutely decorated ones.

  For instance, today’s set of donuts that she’d brought home were shaped like flip-flops.

  Needless to say, I’d eaten the cake and had only stopped when I couldn’t stand the nuts on the outside of the cake.

  Who the hell put nuts on a wedding cake?

  “Umm,” I hesitated. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

  He rolled his eyes but turned away from me to lift his chin up at Sammy. “Anything for you?”

  He shook his head and I watched him go, wondering if I should’ve asked him if Sammy could give him a ride home.

  “What’s that look for?” Sammy asked.

  I blinked, turning my head so I could gaze up at him.

  “What’s what?” I blinked innocently.

  He grinned and gestured to my face with the bottle of beer that was in his hand.

  “That look that said you’d rather run out of here screaming than wait for Bourne to get back,” he answered.

  I sighed. I did have some problems when it came to infidelity.

  My one and only boyfriend, when I was fifteen, had slept with my best friend. My best guy friend.

  And that was how I acquired so many trust issues.

  “I’m tired,” I admitted. “And this party is something else.”

  This party was like a fuckin’ music club.

  There was a DJ, along with hundreds of writhing bodies out on the dance floor. Along with those bodies were the bride and groom who were both dancing—but not with each other.

  The groom was dancing with a female cop that I’d seen over here with Bourne and Sammy earlier in the night. And then there was the bride, who was dancing very close to a tall man that I’d seen before but couldn’t say where from.

  “It’s weird,” Sammy agreed. “I think they have an open relationship. That’s the only way that I can see them marrying.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that but was thankfully saved from having to when Bourne arrived with three bottles of beer.

  He was missing his tux jacket, and he had his white sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off very muscular, tattooed forearms.

  He handed one to me, one to Sammy, and kept one for himself.

  “There’s a table open in the back corner,” he said. “I put my tux jacket down so nobody would sit there.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Sammy muttered as he gestured to Bourne. “Lead the way. My knees feel like they’re going to break.”

  “It’s the weather,” I said. “When the weather changes, my bones start to ache.”

  We were getting a cool front.

  That was the reason for all the inclement weather over the next twenty-four hours.

  We were supposed to drop down to eighty degrees, which was unheard of for Texas this time of year.

  “That must be why my foot hurts where I broke it,” Bourne said. “I hadn’t much thought about the why of it hurting until just right now.”

  I’d heard him explain to Asa once how he’d hurt himself, which was why he hadn’t been able to go into the military like his brother, Booth.

  When Asa had been born, I’d been very thankful for Bourne’s presence in Asa’s life.

  Though he hadn’t always been there, it’d been enough that it’d kept Asa from freaking out every single time Booth was able to come home for long enough to spend time with our son.

  It helped that Bourne and Booth were identical twins. That way, when Booth came home, he didn’t have to crawl into Asa’s good graces all over again.

  Which I’m sure would really hurt Booth if he heard that Asa had called Bourne ‘daddy’ first.

  Not that I’d ever admit that to Booth.

  I didn’t want to break his heart any more than I already had.

  Though I wasn’t in love with Booth, I respected him as a person. He was kind, intelligent, and attractive.

  He was also the identical twin of the man that I did like.

  So of course, I would never want to hurt him if I didn’t have to.

  “Here,” Bourne said as he gestured for me to squeeze into the small corner.

  I did, brushing past Bourne’s hard chest as I did.

  He drew in a low, shaky breath that had me pausing when I was right up against him.

  I used the chair not being far enough in as my excuse to allow my backside to press against him for so long. Then, as if my body had a mind of its own and wasn’t connected to my brain in any way, I bent slightly at the waist and reached for the chair of the seat, pushing it in slightly.

  While I did, I made sure to press back against Bourne.

  The moment that my ass came into contact with his hips, I knew that I’d made a mistake.

  Not because it didn’t feel good, but because it felt too good.

  It made me realize that my attraction for Bourne wasn’t going to just go away.

  Not when all it took was a brush of his hips against my backside to have me thinking all kinds of naughty things.

  Too soon, he had the seat pushed in for me, and I had no other choice but to pass him and take my own seat.

  I tried to dip my head to allow my face to be concealed by my hair, but Sammy’s laughter had me blinking at him in confusion.

  “What?” Bourne grumbled.

  He looked between the two of us, said nothing, then tipped his beer to his lips.

  I was so glad that my face couldn’t be seen.

  The corner we were in was dark, and thanks to all the lighting being focused on the dance floor, it meant that the particular shade of red on my face was undetectable.

  “Nothing, man.” Sammy put down his beer. “Hey, I heard that you and your sister went on a blind date last week.”

  I grimaced and nodded my head, remembering the blind date as if it was yesterday and not last week.

  “It was awful,” I admitted. “Our blind dates ended up being twins, and all they talked about was sharing us, and all of our kids looking similar, and how cool it would be to have children that came from both of us.”

  Bourne spit out his beer.

  It sprayed across the table and missed hitting Sammy by sheer luck.

  “You what?” he asked, a tinge of laughter filling into his voice. “You’re making that up.”

  His accusations made me nearly laugh.

  “Not even a little bit,” I said as I showed him the text conversation that I saved. “This was the twin that I was supposed to go on a date with. The other one was supposed to be with Dillan. But then th
ey switched it up on us. They didn’t even tell us that we were talking to the opposite guy until Dillan accidentally stumbled onto it during dinner conversation. Erron was the banker, and Derron was the car lot owner. Dillan made a comment to Erron about a car, and he casually says that Derron was the car lot owner, not him. Then they go on about their business as if they hadn’t switched up their dates, and we hadn’t been calling them by the other brother’s name all night.”

  I showed him the conversation of texts between myself and Erron.

  “Who set you up on this blind date?” he asked.

  I grimaced and said, “Ken. The man that does the CrossFit stuff that works with Dillan? These two twins go to his CrossFit gym. The bad thing is, I was thinking about joining that gym until I realized that they went to it.”

  Sammy burst out laughing, his hand slapping down onto his thigh.

  “I go to that gym. CrossFit Boomtown. It’s the fucking best. There are a set of twins that come to the earlier classes, but since I’m more of an afternoon attendee, I never see them. I’ve heard they’re dicks, though. Always fibbing on their times and scores.”

  I rolled my eyes and crossed my leg over my opposite knee, unsurprised to hear this about them.

  The move put my foot exceptionally close to Bourne, who didn’t seem to be bothered to have my foot touching his leg every time I bounced it, so I left it there.

  Except, on the third or so such tap of my foot against his leg, he caught it in his hand and held it.

  I looked over at him in shock.

  His hand was around my ankle, and he was holding it in a tight grip. Not one that would hurt, but one that was clearly telling me to stop, or else.

  “Sorry,” I lied. “I thought it was the chair leg.”

  Lies.

  He knew that it was a lie, too.

  His mouth might not have put voice to the words, but his eyes took me in, and his lips formed into a small frown, as if he didn’t like the idea of me lying to him.

  I looked away and took a swig of the beer that he’d handed me.

  It was slightly warm, and I hated warm beer.

  I drank it anyway because I didn’t like wasting people’s money, even if I hadn’t asked for the beer.

  Bourne never let go of my ankle. And I wasn’t going to admit that I liked the way it felt with his hand wrapped around me. Even if it was my ankle.

  An hour later, I was on beer number four, and Sammy had just left to go help Jason and a few of the other cops that were at the wedding find some flashlights so the party could continue on.

  The lights had gone out, and now the entire area surrounding us was cast in shadows.

  And do you know what Bourne still had in his hand? My ankle.

  My leg had long since gone to sleep, but I couldn’t stand removing it.

  At least, that had been my intention—to leave it there as long as he’d hold on to it—but the beer was catching up to me.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I admitted reluctantly. “I left my phone in the car, though. There’s nowhere to put it while wearing this dress.”

  There was a moment of silence, then, “I have my phone, but the flashlight doesn’t work on it. I shattered the back of the phone last week during a call.”

  I really wanted to know how that happened, but before I could ask, he was standing up.

  “Come on,” he said. “Leave your wrap here. I’ll leave my coat. We’ll come back for them.”

  I did as he suggested, polishing off the rest of my beer.

  Luckily they were small beers, otherwise I would’ve been drunk off my ass by now.

  As it was, they were in those small Dixie Cups that were the size of my hand.

  The first beer that he’d handed me had been a bottle, and I’d been a tad bit surprised by the move.

  When I’d questioned him with my eyes as he’d handed it to me, he’d met them with a blank stare and then shrugged.

  “Can you see at all?” I asked curiously.

  There were a few flashlights in the small room from people’s personal phones, but not that many. In fact, I was honestly surprised there weren’t more.

  “Why do you think there aren’t more flashlights?” I asked as I slipped down out of my seat.

  Bourne let my ankle go almost reluctantly, and I missed the heat of his hand immediately.

  It was probably time for me to move it based on the pins and needles feeling going through my right leg now that I’d allowed blood flow to return.

  “Probably the same reason as you,” Bourne murmured as he too stood up. “Nowhere to put the phone. And since half of these people are cops, I’m sure that they left them on purpose. If you don’t have your phone, you can’t be asked to come in, can you?”

  The only reason I knew he’d stood was the shift of clothing and the soft squeak of the soles of his shoes hitting the floor.

  Luckily the music had gone out with the power, enabling me to hear again.

  “You’re right,” I said as I shifted, using the wall as a guide to get around the table.

  I once again encountered the chair but kept my body straight since Bourne wasn’t there to force me sideways.

  I should’ve moved sideways, because had I, I wouldn’t have tripped over Bourne who was standing just a few feet away against the wall.

  My hand met his shoulder just as my feet caught his.

  I would’ve landed straight on my face had he not caught me around the waist and hauled me up against him to prevent my face meeting the ground.

  “God,” I gasped as I felt his hard body up against mine.

  I’d always wanted to feel what it was like to be in his arms.

  Now I knew.

  He was hard. Everywhere.

  And warm. And he smelled super, duper good.

  “You’re okay,” he said, misunderstanding my use of the word ‘god.’

  I knew I was okay. I was more than okay.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That would’ve hurt.”

  He chuckled and let my body go, but his hands lingered on my hips to make sure that I was steady before he let me go completely.

  But before I could get far, he’d grabbed my hand and said, “Let’s go.”

  I walked beside him carefully, my heels clicking and clacking as he moved expertly through the room as if the lights were on and he could see everything.

  “’Scuse me,” Bourne murmured, his voice dark and deep.

  “No problem,” someone replied.

  We skimmed our way around a table, and I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “Do you have night vision or something?”

  He squeezed my hand, but he didn’t laugh like I expected him to.

  “Not night vision in the way that you’re thinking. I’m just used to moving around through the dark,” he answered. “Part of my job.”

  It was in a way, I supposed.

  Bourne had a very demanding career as a police officer. He worked night shift lately, and a lot of the SWAT calls that went down happened at night.

  “Why do you work night shift now?” I asked. “You’ve been on the force long enough that you really shouldn’t have to.”

  He pulled me lightly to the side, and I felt the brush of a table skirt against my leg before he answered.

  “I like night shift,” he answered. “It’s more exciting. More things happen. It feels like I’m not twiddling my thumbs like I do on day shift.” He paused. “There’s the bathroom. Can you make it on your own?”

  I thought about the layout of the bathroom from my trip in there earlier to wash my hands after getting my cake.

  “Yes,” I answered. “But… just stay right there, okay?”

  The place was really dark, and I’d never really been good with it.

  To be honest, I disliked the dark. That was why I always had a small lamp or night light in every room of the house except for Asa’s—who, like his father, hated even the l
ittle bit of light. Though, that hadn’t started until after Asa had started spending his weekends over there when Booth had gotten back from deployment.

  When that happened, Asa wanted to be exactly like his daddy in every way.

  “I’ll wait right here,” he said as he pushed the door open for me. “Holler if you need anything.”

  I sure hoped I wouldn’t.

  And I was right, I didn’t.

  After doing my business and washing my hands, I made my way back to the door, only slightly freaking out.

  My hand felt for the doorknob, but before I could open it, it swung open.

  “Ready?” Bourne asked.

  I gasped in surprise at his sudden appearance.

  “Yes,” I replied breathlessly. “It’s really freakin’ dark in here. I only thought it was dark out there, but yeah.”

  He caught up my hand, and I was slightly embarrassed because my hands were still slightly damp.

  They’d run out of paper towels of course. I’d had to use a measly little sliver of one to dry off with, and it hadn’t done a good enough job.

  “Sorry, they ran out of paper towels, and it was too dark to search for some more,” I admitted.

  He squeezed my hand a little tighter. “I only assumed.”

  I felt a grin spread on my face. “I didn’t want you thinking that I peed all over it or something.”

  He chuckled.

  “Delanie, you’re extremely anal when it comes to hygiene. I can’t tell you how many times I hear ‘Mommy doesn’t like me to touch doorknobs with my bare hands’ when we’re out in public with Asa. I know that you’d wash your hands after going to the bathroom,” he rumbled.

  I felt my face flush as he once again guided me through the room.

  “Well,” I said. “Do you know how many germs are on a door handle? It’s disgusting. I watched a television series on germs once. For instance, do you know how many people walk out of the bathroom without washing their hands? That’s why I make Asa use a paper towel when he leaves. Because what if someone did, in fact, pee all over their hands and then not wash them? That’s gross.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not saying that it’s a bad thing. I’m just explaining why I knew that you wouldn’t have peed on your hands.”

  I snickered. “Okay. Well, just remember the towel on the handle in the bathroom trick, okay?”