Torch (Take It Off #1)(35)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“And after the ice cream?”

“I think it’s going to be past your bedtime. I’m going to have to tuck you in.” His hand moved to my breast as he spoke.

“Promise?”

“Oh, sweetheart, do I ever.”

17

I can’t believe I just did that. Okay, that was a completely juvenile thought and so was the fact that I grabbed up my clothes and hurried into the bathroom only to lean against the back of the door and grin like an idiot while butterflies completely took over the inside of my body.

I suppressed a light giggle and began to dress in my olive-green T-shirt dress. One glance in the mirror told me I had total bedhead. I released the rumpled braid and combed through the now wavy locks.

I just lost my virginity. And it was incredible.

I never realized sex could feel like that. Just thinking about it, my body practically slid into a puddle right there on the floor. Everything inside me felt loose and liquid. My head was slightly tipsy like I had one too many glasses of wine. I was also more aware of my feminine parts, more so than I’d ever been before. I felt different down there—stretched, slightly sore, and maybe even a little swollen.

I put down the comb and looked at myself in the mirror—straight in the eyes. Did I have regrets? I searched within myself; I dug deep, past the tingling of my body, the satisfaction within my limbs. I looked hard, not shying away from any of the thoughts and feelings swirling around inside me.

And I found the answer.

No.

Well, okay, maybe I did have one regret: the fact that I hadn’t done this sooner.

Another little giggle slipped out of my mouth and I grabbed up my lip-gloss, coating my lips. Holt knocked on the bathroom door as he moved down the hallway. “Get your butt out here, Freckles. You look hot.”

I take that back.

I’m glad I hadn’t done this sooner. I’m glad I took my time and waited for someone who actually made me feel this way. I might be inexperienced when it came to sex and romance, but I knew not every woman experienced this. In fact, I was almost positive there was no one else that could ever make me feel the way Holt did.

After carefully washing my hands, I walked out to the living room, grabbing up my bag and shoving my feet into my flip-flops. Holt held open the door for me and we stepped out into the late-evening sun.

Just when my feet stepped into the grass, a silver BMW pulled into the driveway and parked behind Holt’s truck.

I froze, not really sure what to do. Shouldn’t this guy be in jail? Shouldn’t he be sitting at the police station for what he tried to do to me just hours ago?

Couldn’t a girl go get ice cream without worrying about who might be waiting for her outside?

Holt moved up beside me, palming his keys, looking toward the BMW with irritation written all over his face. I thought it was a little strange he wasn’t displaying the murderous feelings he claimed to feel for this guy earlier.

Wonder why…

“Now might be a good time to tell me what the cops said.”

He placed his hand at the small of my back and angled his body toward me and slightly forward. “He’s a lawyer. He claims he’s been trying to talk to you for a while now.”

“So lawyers usually try to run people off the road when they want to talk?” I snorted. “People have these things now called phones.”

“You don’t have a phone anymore,” he reminded me gently.

Oh. Well, there was that.

But I still wasn’t willing to give this guy the benefit of the doubt. He scared me.

“The cops couldn’t hold him. Technically, he didn’t do anything wrong.” He spoke quietly, leaning in to softly say the words near my ear.

“You believe them?” I asked, turning to look into his eyes.

I saw the cloud of doubt that shadowed the blue. “I certainly don’t plan on trusting him. But maybe we should at least ask him before I unleash the mad dog.”

I arched an eyebrow. “The mad dog?”

He grinned. “Inside every man there is a mad dog just waiting to get out.”

“Right.” I would just file that under useless information that I would never need to know again.

Mr. BMW opened up his car door and stepped out, standing between his car and the door to stare at us over the roof. “Miss Parker? I apologize for the misunderstanding earlier, but my name is Paul Goddard, from Goddard, Goldberg, and Stein. I’m an attorney. I’ve come a long way to speak to you.”

Was this just some lame attempt at getting close enough to kill me?

Holt leaned down and whispered in my ear, “The cops said his identity checks out.”

“What do you want?” I called to the man.

“I just need a few minutes of your time. It’s about some legal documents.”

“Is this about my house burning down?”

“No, ma’am. I wasn’t aware your house burned down until I arrived in town today.”

“Where are you from?”

“Hollywood, California.”

“I don’t know anyone in California.”

“Would it be okay if I came closer to explain?”

I pondered that request for a moment. He was certainly being cautious this time around. He did look like a lawyer. Wearing a dark suit and tie. His salt-and-pepper hair was short and he had a deep tan, which implied he could be from California (either that or he had an unhealthy addiction to the tanning bed).

Of course, now I was curious as to what this could possibly be about.

“Okay,” I told him.

He reached in his car and grabbed a briefcase, shut his door, and walked across the yard to stand a few feet away. He had a black eye from where one of the men at the fire station punched him. I didn’t feel bad about it. He deserved it.

“I feel we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” he began.

I laughed. “If you consider following me through Wilmington, tailgating my car, and trying to run me off the road ‘getting off on the wrong foot,’ then I suppose you’re right.”

“I wasn’t trying to run you off the road. I was trying to get your attention. You are a very hard woman to find, Miss Parker.”

“You called me Katie before.”

“Again, another mistake. I thought you might stop panicking if I called you by your first name. I thought it would give you the impression I was familiar with you.”

Holt snorted. “Familiar like a stalker.”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “I hadn’t realized you were having some… trouble until I was escorted to the police station.”