by Liv Morris
Keeping my eyes trained on the ground, I see that we’re in the lobby as the flooring changes to marble tiles. Shit, next up is the patrol car. Then the police station. After that the unemployment line. What a clusterfuck of a night.
The warm evening air hits me as the officer leads us outside. My skin is overheated and I wish there was a cool breeze blowing. Between all the alcohol and getting cuffed, I’m feeling feverish. Flush, too.
Now that we’re outside, I peek up just enough to see the officer’s awaiting patrol car in the distance, lights off, thankfully. Any more drama and I’d be screaming. As we approach the car, Coop finally speaks. He’s been oddly silent the entire time.
“Officer, there really isn’t a need to take us to the station. Surely, we can work this out here.”
“Forget the speeches, hotshot. I’m not listening. You can tell your story to the precinct captain. He loves to be entertained.” For the first time the police officer shows some emotion and laughs. At us. In Coop’s face. We are so going down for the count now. I can almost hear the jail cell’s door slamming shut.
Coop sighs in frustration. I look up at him and I swear he looks a little scared, uneasy. His record as the perfect celebrity is about to be tarnished. The press will have a field day when they get ahold of this. I’m a nothing. I’ll go back to Augusta where I belong and find a job cat sitting or something. No one will care.
But he’s going to have to answer for this one. The reporters will likely grill him and sensationalize the whole ordeal. And as Coop looks into my eyes, registering some feeling that I’d never seen on his face, a little sympathy pushes past my anger, making me just a little bit sorry. Dare I say remorseful?
“Hey.” Talking just above a whisper, I pull on the handcuff we’re both connected to and get his attention. “I’m sorry about all of this. I egged you on.”
“Yes, you did. But I wanted to get back at you.” Now I see anger in his eyes. He wanted a pound of flesh from me. Well, he’s already had a few pounds of my flesh, but not like this.
“Get me back?” I ask. “Well, you sure picked an asshole way to do that.”
We’re standing at the car before Coop can answer me back. But I’m sure he’ll fill me in on how wrong I am. The officer unlocks the back door for us.
I’ve seen this exact scenario a million times on TV shows. The bad guys under arrest have to climb in the backseat. The officer guides them, placing a hand on their heads so they don’t knock themselves out on the door’s frame. This is one art form I don’t care to imitate. But we have no choice and climb into the back. Sliding across the leather seat, I make room for Coop. I lean against the far door. Far, far away from him.
“You have no idea, do you?” Coop asks me through gritted teeth, anger seething from him in waves. “Answer me.”
“Wow, you’re quite the jerk.” My response is spoken more like a hiss. “No, I don’t have any idea why you’re so mad, and honestly I could care less.”
“Here’s the whole damn truth.” He pauses, waiting until I make eye contact with him and we’re staring into each other eyes. All my attention is his right now. His anger makes him appear so intense, dangerous, and deliciously sexy. He’s as beautiful as hell and I find myself shifting in my seat. It’s the damn Coop effect. No woman is immune to it. “I’ve never, I mean never, had someone leave me after having sex like you did.”
And boom it hits me. This has nothing to do with me, Millie, the person. It’s his big, fragile ego. I bruised it. Hit him where it really counts. The simple act of my leaving him without a word was a bull’s-eye aimed straight at his pride.
“I was right. It’s all about you. I was just the first one who stepped on your ego. Welcome to the real world, Coop. It’s called rejection.”
I really didn’t mean that, you know. There never was any rejection on my part. More like an escape before he rejected me. But I’ll never tell him that.
“Here’s the deal, Millie. I really liked you. Maybe that’s why it’s bothering me. I thought you felt the way same way about me too.”
Another bomb was just dropped on me. I wasn’t expecting that response from him at all. He liked me. Coop, Mr. Football, the man who ruined me for all others. Hell, what a dumbass I am. He’s looking at me. Heart on his sleeves vulnerable. God, he’s too adorable right now. So I do what every smart, single woman in my shoes would do. I scoot across the seat and basically attack him. But this time with my lips not my fists.
Epilogue
I’ve heard it said that there’s a thin line between love and hate. Sexual chemistry blurs that line. Erases it, in fact. Coop and I are a perfect example of these truths.
We stayed in that police car for a long time, kissing, groping, panting and steaming up the windows. Trying to make out in the backseat of a car, handcuffed to a 6’3” dude was a challenge but one I succeed at it, thank you very much.
I bet you’re wondering about the cop. Did he take us to the station? Book us? Throw us in a jail cell? Nah, nothing like that happened at all.
You see Mr. Reynolds overheard our entire little quarrel. He particularly loved it when I tossed my drink in Coop’s face. And being a wise, sweet man married for close to forty years, he saw what Coop and I didn’t. A basic, undeniable attraction. Oh, and two super stubborn knuckleheads.
When Mr. Reynolds spoke to the officer privately, he concocted the whole scheme. He asked the officer to cuff us, get us alone in the backseat of his patrol car, and leave us there. They both watched from afar just in case it turned violent, but left when they saw us getting jiggy with it.
Wondering how our story ends? We’ve been together now for two whole years and will be married next month with Mr. Reynolds officiating. Who knew he was an ordained Methodist minister? But most importantly, Coop and I are both hopelessly in love with one another.
I feel like Disney’s Cinderella because our love story is my fairytale. And in this game called life, I feel like I’m the second art teacher at Peachtree to win the lottery. That’s how lucky I feel having found Coop.
We had some obstacles to overcome and probably still do, but we’re team and ready to tackle them. Yes, even his football jargon has rubbed off on me. I’m not sure if we’ll always live happily ever after but we’re sure going to try.
The End
Acknowledgements
Dear reader,
Thank you for taking a chance on an independent author. I truly appreciate you choosing to buy and read my book.
I’d love to hear from you too. Perhaps leave a review on Amazon, or a comment on my web site or Facebook page.
www.livmorris.com or https://www.facebook.com/livingwrite
You can also connect with me on twitter. It’s a favorite of mine.
http://twitter.com/Living_Write
All the best,
Liv
P.S. A big thank you to some special ladies! TOM, MM, Pam, Kelly, Taylor, Jada and Dee. You’re support makes all the difference in the world. Love you ladies.
A Sneak Peek of Adam’s Apple
Adam’s Apple
A novel
Release date July, 30
By Liv Morris
A Contemporary Romance Best Selling Author
Summary
A modern day love story mixed with suspense and unexpected twists uniquely told from the man’s point of view.
Adam Kingsley reigns as the young prince of Manhattan. Everything he touches turns to gold making him the envy of Wall Street. Women swoon at his feet, money falls out of his pockets, and his killer good looks are as wicked as sin. A dangerous trifecta.
What more could a thirty-two year old man wish for? Maybe that his life never changes and his past stays far away? Sounds reasonable but life seldom is.
Kathryn Delcour is a beautiful and alluring socialite with unique erotic tastes. When she suddenly appears on the New York City social scene, Adam finds her too tempting to resist. He has to have her, but she is warned to stay away from him a
nd tries her hardest to keep him at arm’s length. However Kathryn’s arms may not be strong enough to hold Adam at bay.
Their own hidden secrets and Kathryn’s passion for an ancient sexual practice take you on a wild and dangerous ride. So hold on tight as Adam tells us their story in his own words.
About the Author
A Contemporary Romance Best-selling Author
Liv Morris resides in Manhattan with her husband of twenty-eight years. Relocating eleven times during her husband’s corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she’s planted, Liv brings her moving and life experiences to her writing.
A native of the beautiful Ozark Mountains of southern Missouri, Liv feels blessed to have a supportive and close family. Her three grown daughters are scattered across the country, but thankfully call home on a regular basis.
She received a B.S. in Communication from the University of Maryland. Currently, Liv is writing and publishing her short story series, Love in the City. Two of her short stories have ranked in Amazon’s top best sellers list in Contemporary Romance. Her novel, Adam’s Apple, is due for release this summer.
To learn more, visit: www.livmorris.com.
Table of Contents
DRUNK and DISORDERLY
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
A Sneak Peek of Adam’s Apple