Page 60 of Playing Along

“Please do report us to security,” Jack replies cheerfully, pulling his badge out from his back pocket and flashing it her way. “Tell them Detective Reynolds says hello.”

The woman’s face immediately colors. “D-detective. Oh my. Has there been a crime? Am I in danger?” Her hand flies to her heart and if the muscles of her face could still move themselves I think her eyes would widen.

As it is there’s very little difference in the expression that was on her face before Jack’s pronouncement and the one on her face now.

“Let’s just say, if I were you, I wouldn’t be hanging around out here in the open,” Jack says ominously, looking around us as if at any moment a murderer might appear out of thin air. She doesn’t need to hear anything more. We watch as she turns on her heels and scuttles away, back into her house.

“Nicely played, Detective,” I tell him as the door shuts behind her. He grins down at me and an unexpected shyness settles over me. Before Botox woman interrupted I’m pretty sure we had a moment. Like a connecting moment. But what if I misread things? Perhaps he was still playing the protector and was only trying to make absolutely certain that I was okay after my panic attack.

“You’re okay, right?” he asks, supporting this latter line of thinking. “Things got a bit intense for you back there.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, reaching up and tucking a stray hair back just to have something to do with my hands. “Thanks for your help, though.” I keep my gaze fixed on a spot just above his shoulder, not daring to look him in the eye.

“Nora,” he begins, then breaks off. Silence stretches between us and finally I can’t take it anymore, I look straight up at him. Unspoken words pass between us as his gray eyes hold my green eyes captive. They say eyes are windows to the soul and right now Jack’s eyes are revealing what I could swear is longing. Maybe even a longing for me–I want to grab hold of the window ledge and hoist myself up for a better look, just so I can be sure. But then he blinks and just like that the window is closed.

“We’d better go get the others,” he says. “I’m sure Officer Moore will be here any minute and I’d rather not get trapped in a discussion with him about all of this.” He looks over his shoulder one more time and I follow his gaze. The garage door is shut.

Who was driving the black SUV? And what are they doing at the Wharfman’s house?

Chapter 17

Jack

I REALLY WOULD’VE liked to rush back over to the Wharfman’s house and demand to speak with whoever was driving that black SUV, but not only is Officer Moore going to be arriving soon, we’ve also put Connie Wharfman on her guard. The chances she’d even open the door for us again are slim. No, our best bet is to leave and hope that Officer Moore manages to find out the information for us.

Or we could hold an impromptu stakeout and watch the house until whoever it is comes out. I dismiss this idea almost as quickly as it comes to me. The SUV’s windows are tinted, meaning we won’t be able to make much out from the distance we’d need to maintain not to be noticed. Plus, if that woman who yelled at us for sitting on her sidewalk is any indication, we’d likely have other people from the neighborhood (or possibly even security) approaching our vehicle to ask what we’re doing here. Lucy’s bright red Jeep isn’t exactly inconspicuous.

No, it’s best to just get out of here and regroup.

Honestly, regrouping has never sounded better. I’m desperate to have the safety net that is the presence of Emily, Lucy, and Mel back in place. I can’t be alone with my wife for any longer if I’m going to keep this marriage platonic.

It’s like I’ve had an electric fence in place to keep my attraction to her contained, but then holding her in my arms and hearing her sigh just now tripped a circuit in my brain, shutting the fence off.

So now I need that motley trio of security guards back to help keep me in check. Given their predilection for romance, I’m not sure how good they’ll be at their job, but having anyone at all around should be at least something of a deterrent.

Lucy left the Jeep unlocked for us so that we could wait for them inside it without the realtor coming out and asking who we were. The two of us climb into it on our respective sides. This backseat wasn’t built for a man of my size, so as I’m getting in my elbow bumps the back of the seat in front of me at the same time that my head hits the ceiling and I tumble forward. Nora, obviously not expecting such an ungraceful entrance on my part, squeaks in surprise as I topple in slow motion onto her lap.

In an effort to not crush her, I try to stick my hands out and catch myself, but then panic at the last minute that I’m somehow going to end up groping her, and lift them up instead. I land with a grunt. My cheek is plastered to her thigh, my arms are stretched out above my head like I’m Superman, and my butt is in the air.

For a second I just lay there in disbelief, but then the legs beneath me start shaking and I realize she’s laughing. Uproariously laughing.

“Smooth,” she gasps between laughs, “real smooth.”

Carefully I retract my hands from their Superman pose and use the seat to lift myself back up to sitting. Nora is still laughing and, despite my embarrassment, I find myself joining in. Her laughter has a lightness to it that defies gravity. Fueled by her laughter my Superman arms may have actually had a chance at sending me airborne.

“You thought that was funny did you?” I quip, tickling her gently in the side. It’s a flirty move that takes me by surprise.

I’m a guy who has always enjoyed a good teasing session between friends. Nothing mean-spirited, just good-natured ribbing. When I started dating Nora—no, actually the day I met Nora—I discovered that with her my teasing nature translated to flirting like crazy. I found I enjoyed nothing more than sneaking in little comments here and there that made her blush or smile or laugh or lean in for a kiss.

Up until this moment, though, I have been very carefully avoiding flirting with her. I guess ending up with my butt literally in the air caused me to let my guard down. Still, as I watch a pretty pink blush bloom across her cheeks I find I can’t bring myself to care about my slip-up.

My fingers move of their own accord to the spot right under her rib cage, continuing their tickle attack. She shrieks and swats my hand away, but the smile on her face is wide and absolutely beautiful.

I retract my hands, waggling my fingers as I smirk at her. “That’s right, Miss Laughypants, who’s laughing now?”

“Miss Laughypants?” she snorts. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Hmm, would you prefer Miss Pee-your-pants,” I tease, lifting my fingers again. “Because these guys right here are ten energizer bunnies and they can tickle until the name fits.”

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