Fall Before You Leap

by Kate Tilney

  FALL BEFORE YOU LEAP

  by Kate Tilney

  Copyright © 2020 by Kate Tilney

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Cover Photos by

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Fall Before You Leap

  Chapter One | Parker

  Chapter Two | Cassidy

  Chapter Three | Parker

  Cassidy

  Chapter Four | Parker

  Chapter Five | Cassidy

  Parker

  Chapter Six | Cassidy

  Epilogue | Parker

  Cassidy

  I was taught that if you find yourself in a tough place, you should call the police. When I bump into a hot cop while on the run from my own wedding, I figure I'm in good hands.

  I wouldn't mind seeing just how good those hands can be.

  Forget that I'm dressed in white and on the run, there's something about him that makes me want my right's read. Could he be everything my heart desires?

  Parker

  When I swore to protect and preserve, I'm pretty sure my oath didn't cover helping runaway brides. But when I find out who she's running from, I can't resist.

  Though I've always been a by-the-books guy, this woman makes me want to break the rules.

  But as much as I'd like to make her mine, she may run from me too as soon as she learns the secret I'm keeping.

  In honor of Leap Day, Fall Before You Leap is a steamy standalone story about a curvy bride who falls for the alpha cop driving her getaway car.

  Chapter One

  Parker

  Another Saturday. Another shift on meter maid duty. When I followed in Dad’s footsteps and joined the force, I expected to take down bad guys and put them behind bars. He and my grandpa used to tell us kids epic stories about following leads and closing cases.

  It made our little town in Upstate New York sound like an episode of Law & Order. You could almost hear the clink clink every time they started spinning one of their yarns.

  That used to be my life too. Until my partner strained his back putting Christmas decorations away. He used to roll his eyes whenever the nurse told him to lift with his knees. Turns out, she was right.

  If he had listened to her, we might be looking over case files that would put me on track to become a detective within the year. Instead, I’m ticketing some jackass who parked in a loading zone before heading into the church. Exciting stuff.

  I’m printing out the ticket when the side door to the church flies open. A woman dressed like a vanilla cupcake steps out. She glances to her left and to her right before her eyes land on me. Nodding, she sprints across the lawn, still patchy with snow from our last storm.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see there’s no one besides me on the street. Just the illegally parked sedan and my cruiser.

  The woman freezes in front of me. Her chest rises up and down. I try not to notice how her tits almost spill over the low scoop of her dress. She’s a pretty thing. With reddish blonde hair curled around her shoulders, skin that looks as soft and sweet as a peach, and full pink lips. It’s a damn shame she’s a bride. That means she’s off the market.

  “Officer,” she says between gasps, grabbing hold of my arm. “I need. Your help.”

  On alert, I tuck the ticket printer back into its pouch on my belt.

  “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

  Her grip tightens. “I need to get out of here.”

  There’s terror mixed with anxiety in her sea-foam green eyes. My heart hitches at the fear in her voice. Instinctively, I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her to my side. I’ll shield her from harm, even if I don’t know what it is just yet.

  “Is it something in the church?”

  She nods. My spare hand flies to my holster, prepared to pull out my weapon if necessary.

  “What is it? Is there a fire?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Is someone sick?”

  Her head moves so fast, her curls go swinging.

  I cling to my patience, because this gorgeous woman is clearly too upset to speak.

  “I know this is difficult for you.” I massage her shoulder with my thumb. “But I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

  She takes a shaky breath. “It’s my fiancé.”

  Anger courses through my veins. “Did he hurt you?”

  “Not exactly. But I can’t go through with it.”

  She’s not making any sense. “Go through with what?”

  “The wedding.”

  It all comes together. I’m not dealing with an emergency. It’s just a bride with cold feet.

  Sighing, I release my hold on her and my holster.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry to hear that, but this is hardly a police matter.”

  “I need a ride.” The panic is back in her voice. “I’ll go anywhere. I just need to be gone before he notices. He’s going to be so mad.”

  Though I know it’s not my job, I’m still concerned about her welfare.

  “What will happen when he’s mad?”

  “He’ll yell. Make a scene.” A tear slips down her cheek, tugging at my heart. “And once he does that, I’ll lose all my courage and have to go through with it.”

  It’s impossible not to feel sympathy for this woman. But she doesn’t need police protection. She needs a friend—or a mother—to lean on.

  “I can let you make a call from my phone. We can get your mom out here.”

  She’s back to shaking her head. “I have a phone. My mom is dead.”

  Now I feel like a jerk. “How about a friend?”

  “She’s running interference so I can make my escape.” Another tear falls down her cheek. “I don’t know my way around this town. It’s ex’s hometown. Not mine.”

  Again, I feel a twinge of sympathy. “That may very well be true, but there’s nothing I can do.”

  “Please, can’t you just give me a ride?”

  “I’m a cop, ma’am. Not an Uber driver.” My jaw tightens as the last of my patience slips away. Beautiful or not, this woman is not my problem. “The only people who get a ride in my cruiser are criminals.”

  “Criminals.” Her lips purse together a second before she nods to herself. “Okay. I can make that work.”

  My eyebrows fly up. I’m about to ask what she means when the woman leans back on one foot, fist raised.

  I chuckle the second before her fist connects with my jaw.

  Chapter Two

  Cassidy

  Wincing, I cup my aching knuckles in my other hand. It feels like I just punched a piece of stone. Not the face of a man in uniform so hot, my something-blue panties are wet from standing next to him.

  I may be dressed in white with something borrowed, old, and new—and in the process of running out on my own wedding—but I’m not dead.

  According to the metal tag on his shirt, he’s Officer Prescott.

  According to my eyes, with his broad shoulders, cropped dark hair, and stubble on his chin, Officer Prescott is smoking hot. I can barely breathe just being in his presence.

 
; For his part, the officer doesn’t appear to be any worse off from my attack. Rather than falling to the ground, or even clutching his jaw in agony, those hazel eyes of his are staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which is quite possible. Either I’ve gone insane or I’m thinking clearly for the first time. Time will have to tell.

  Running a finger over my aching hand, I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

  “Does punching an officer count as a crime?”

  Reaching for the handcuffs on his belt, Officer Prescott nods slowly. “Assaulting an officer is a crime.”

  “So you’re going to take me downtown?”

  He pauses in the process of reading my rights, and putting the cuffs on, to stare at me. “Downtown?”

  My cheeks flush rose red thinking about where exactly I’d like downtown to be. Namely in his pants or mine. Better yet, both.

  I really shouldn’t have had the two mimosas my friend Whitney pushed on me. I’m making absolutely no sense to myself. Then again, the booze did just give me the courage to run out on my wedding and punch a police officer in the face. I’d never do either of those things sober.

  Officer Prescott clears his throat and reminds me he just asked a question.

  “You know, downtown.” My cheeks burn even hotter under his smoldering stare. “Like, to the station or wherever you take perps like me.”

  “Perps like you?” Officer Prescott snorts and shakes his head.

  He finishes clasping the shackles on my wrist and pushes me into the backseat of his car. I’m completely at his mercy now. This whole bad girl/cop situation would be a whole lot hotter if the arresting officer wasn’t laughing at me.

  Letting out a huff, I lean back but wince.

  “These cuffs are a little tight.”

  “They’re tight to keep perps like you from slipping lose.”

  I glare at the back of his head, and he pulls away from the curb. Glancing over my shoulder, I’m pleased to see no one appears to have witnessed what just went down. Better still, no one has left the church yet. That means I still have time.

  We’re a few blocks away before I realize it’s completely silent in the cruiser.

  “Aren’t you going to turn on the sirens?”

  “We only use those if we’re pulling someone over or we need to get somewhere fast.”

  “Oh.” I don’t know why that disappoints me. I mean, I’m getting exactly what I wanted, aren’t I? A free ride away from my wedding to some place no one will find me.

  Until they look at the police reports.

  Wait a minute. “When do you guys release your arrest reports?”

  “They usually go out at midnight and six in the morning.”

  Midnight. That gives me a little more than twelve hours before there’s any chance of my fiancé finding me. Unless he calls the police station on a hunch.

  “How long will you keep me in custody?”

  I meet Officer Prescott’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “You’re having second thoughts about assaulting an officer, aren’t you?”

  “No.” Maybe. “I just want to know how long I’ll have to sit in this dress.”

  “Assaulting an officer is a pretty serious offense. We’ll have to keep you in holding until your hearing with the judge.”

  I’ll be in holding until my hearing with the judge. I’m going to have to wait for a hearing with a judge. Like as seen on TV.

  Trying not to let the panic show in my voice, I keep my tone light. “When will the hearing be?”

  “Monday morning.”

  That’s two days away. Okay, I really didn’t think this plan through. I’ve escaped one prison just to end up in another.

  Still, forty-eight hours in jail won’t be the worst thing ever. As a first-time offender, maybe I’ll get probation or community service. I’ll have a record. But it will be better than spending the rest of my life married to a man who makes me feel like I’m nothing and no one.

  Officer Prescott clears his throat and glances at me in the mirror again. “Now it’s my turn to ask some questions.”

  That seems fair enough. “Go ahead.”

  “Why would you rather go to jail than get married?”

  “Marriage is till death do you part.” I tear my gaze away from his and stare out the window at the passing buildings. “I only want to do it once.”

  “And you just realized your fiancé wasn’t the guy?”

  “I’ve known for a while. I think I was just in denial about it.”

  Whatever Officer Prescott thinks about that he doesn’t say. His silence is telling enough.

  “Any other questions?” I ask, unable to bear the tense silence.

  “You said you aren’t local?”

  I shake my head. “I live in New York City. I just finished design school.”

  “So why are you getting married here?”

  “It’s where Austin is from.”

  He slams on the brakes and turns to look at me over his shoulder. “Austin who?”

  “Austin Douglass.”

  “No shit? You just ran out on Austin Douglass?”

  I can feel the flush returning to my cheeks. “Yeah, so?”

  He just shakes his head, a smirk plays at his lips. “I guess I have just one more question for you.”

  My stomach flutters with nerves. “Okay.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Chapter Three

  Parker

  After pulling into the parking lot of a diner just outside of town, I remove the cuffs and hand Cassidy my gym bag.

  She eyes it cautiously.

  “They’re clean. I thought you might be more comfortable eating in sweats than that thing.”

  Her face relaxes, and she gives the hint of a smile. “Thanks.”

  I can tell she still isn’t quite sure what to think of this sudden change in situation. I don’t blame her. One minute, she was about to spend a weekend in jail for slugging an officer. Now, that same officer is giving her a change of clothes and offering to buy her a burger.

  While I’d never planned on filing charges against her, I had intended to let her sweat for a few hours. Then she told me she’d just walked out on Austin Douglass. Heir to the Douglass Pottery and Antiquities fortune, he holds a world record for biggest piece of shit.

  Though we’ve just met, I can’t see Cassidy married to a guy like that.

  I’ve snagged us a corner booth when she emerges from the bathroom. Despite her best efforts to shove the dress in the gym bag, parts of it stick out.

  “I could go hang that for you in the car if you don’t want it to wrinkle.”

  She lifts a shoulder “I don’t think a few wrinkles are going to matter at this point.”

  Taking the seat opposite me, the woman who has been holding her own against me for the better part of an hour slouches in her seat. My t-shirt hugs every one of her curves. She looks good in my shirt. I imagine peeling it off of her, and I’m instantly hard.

  I take a deep breath and think about baseball and basketball. Then, hoping to clear the air between us, I shove a menu her way.

  “You can’t go wrong with a burger and fries here. But the milkshakes—” I bring my fingers to my lips and kiss them in my best impersonation of an Italian chef. “The milkshakes are heaven.”

  Giving a shy smile, she orders a strawberry milkshake and a hamburger with fries when the waitress stops by. After we’re alone again, I fold my hands on the table between us and lean forward.

  “I’m going to level with you. I’m not taking you to jail.”

  Her eyes widen. “You aren’t?”

  I shake my head. “Though helping a runaway bride hide out from her would-be husband doesn’t exactly fall under my jurisdiction, you seem like you could use a friend.”

  She reaches across the table to grab my hands, sending a jolt of electricity through me. Whoa.

  “I’m so sorry I punched you in the face. I panicked.”

  “I don’t blame you.” My thumb i
dly traces her knuckles, which are starting to bruise. “I’d probably do worse if I’d been about to marry Austin Douglass.”

  “You know him?”

  I lift my shoulder. “Small town. Everyone knows the Douglass family.”

  Some of us were also unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of his douchebaggery more than once. The guy seduced two of my girlfriends and my date to the prom. Then he called them sluts and dumped them.

  “I really didn’t mean to let it go this far.” She glances down at our linked fingers. “I met him about six months ago. I was interning for a design firm that was working with his company.”

  His company that brokers Manhattan real estate for a premium fee.

  “And I was a little lonely.”

  My heart aches at the sadness in her voice. “Why lonely?”

  “My parents died when I was little, and my grandma raised me.” She glances up at me with misty eyes. “She passed away last year.”

  I give her hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

  She nods, sniffling. “I took a year off from school to take care of her. Most of my friends graduated while I was away. It was really just me and my work.”

  “Until you met Austin.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t get asked out very often. I was flattered when he asked me out for a drink.”

  I find it hard to believe that guys aren’t knocking themselves over to take her out. Hell, it’s taking all my willpower not to reach across the table and kiss away the tears falling down her cheeks.

  “Anyway. I guess it was a whirlwind.” She toys with a straw wrapper. “When he proposed to me on the big screen at a Knicks game, it seemed like a fairytale. But as soon as his ring was on my finger, he changed.”

  She doesn’t have to tell me how. Austin can be a charming and charismatic man. Underneath the polish, there’s a spoiled jerk who doesn’t care about anyone but himself.

  “I started to notice he was . . .”

  “An ass?” I offer.

  A giggle slips out and she bites her lip, nodding. “I noticed he was a bit of an ass when we set a wedding date.”

  It takes me a moment to remember the date. “Leap Day?”