Read Online The Virgin's Night Out by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page B

Glancing over at him, she said, “You know, this is awful, but I can’t even remember your name.”
    “Ouch.” He rolled his eyes and again, flashed that grin. “Grant. Grant Holden.”
    The name tugged something loose inside her head. “Yeah. You’re a detective…I remember now. I’m sorry.”
    “Seems you’ve got a lot going on.” He was quiet for a moment and then said, “I’m sorry.”
    She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It’s not you. I just…this isn’t the time for me to be getting involved with anybody.”
    “Understandable.” He rested his elbows on his knees, looking out over the street the same way she was.
    “Did you send that cop to check on me this morning?”
    “Ah…” A flush settled on his cheeks. “Yeah. I just didn’t feel right leaving you standing there.”
    Turning her head, she studied him. “That was nice of you.” Reaching up to rub the back of her neck, she said, “I could have saved you some trouble if I’d puked the first time we met, I guess.”
    “Talking to a beautiful woman is never any trouble.”
    Blood rushed up to warm her cheeks. Linking her hands in lap, she focused on the leather of her boots, smoothed down the hem of her skirt where it ended a few inches above. “Yeah…well…”
    “You’ve got somebody watching you.”
    Jerking up her head, she stared at him. His face relaxed, his jawline darkened by a heavy growth of stubble. The wind teased his short, dark hair as he glanced her way. “Relax,” he said softly. “Try not look nervous or anything. But there’s a guy down at the coffee shop watching you.”
    A chill raced down her spine. Struggling to keep her voice level, she glanced at him and then back out over the street. “What’s he look like?”
    “Tall—he’s sitting down, but he looks pretty tall, heavy build. He has a baseball cap on and sunglasses.” A faint smile curved his mouth. “You seem sort of calm.”
    “No.” She swallowed and twisted her fingers together. “No. Not calm. But my brothers…” She shrugged. “They are…well, both of them were in security.”
    Now, she let herself glance down at the coffeeshop.
    It wasn’t hard to locate the big, built baseball-cap wearer. Although he was no longer sitting down. Her hands went slick. “It’s okay,” she murmured as the cop next to her tensed. It was subtle, but her brothers had been cautious, protective— and thorough. “I know him.”
    Grant gave her a narrow look. “Hmmm.”
    “What’s that mean?” She looked up at him, painfully aware of the man approaching them. “That hmmmm .”
    “Nothing. He’s crossed the street—looking our way now. And I get the feeling it’s a good idea you never agreed to go out with me.”
    “What?” Unwittingly, she looked down the street, watching as Boone drew closer and closer.
    “He looks like a man who would object to his woman dating another man.”
    “I’m not his…”
    A shiver raced down her spine and she looked up.
     
     
    I’m not his .
    Boone didn’t know what they’d been talking about—wanted to tell himself he didn’t care. But he did. He had a bad feeling they were talking about him and the way her voice faded away as she caught sight of him only added to that feeling.
    I’m not his .
    A curious tightening in his chest made it hard for him to speak but he forced the words out. “Sloane.”
    The man at her side gave her a sidelong look.
    “Hi, Boone.” Her response came out husky and low. She watched him through her lashes, a faint flush on her cheeks.
    He could remember a look almost identical to that as he guided her body under his.
    The memory made his muscles go tight, his blood go hot. Dragging his attention away from her, he stared at the other man. Tall and lean, with watchful eyes.
    Cop.
    They assessed each other for a taut moment and Boone could all but feel his hackles rising, a wave of possessiveness unlike anything he’d ever felt swamping him.
    The cop crooked an eyebrow