Read Online Without Compromise by Becky Riker - Free Book Online Page B

tickets to the Mets.”
    “You planning to thank God too?” she ignored the mention of tickets. “Because we’ve been praying for your situation.”
    “You mentioned that.”
    He wondered why he wasn’t uncomfortable discussing this with Josie. Talking about religion with anyone else gave him the willies.
    “Someday, Tag, you’re going to realize there is Someone bigger, stronger, more powerful than you.”
    “You’ll be the first to know,” he promised.
    “I’d better be.”
    He hung up and leaned his head back against the couch. It felt so good to belong to the team again.
     

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Josie looked around the bar – still no sign of Carenza. She sighed and took a sip of her drink. It wasn’t really a surprise. The woman was notorious for being late.
                  She sat down at the bar with her ginger ale, planning only to stay long enough to finish it. She and Carenza could catch up later.
                  “Could I buy your next drink?” an attractive man who looked about her age took the seat next to hers.
                  She had no desire to be ‘picked up,’ but the guy had spoken graciously and was not hovering over her.
                  “Thanks,” she made eye contact, “but I’m waiting for a friend of mine.”
                  He still looked hopeful, “Couldn’t you wait over there as well as over here?”
                  He pointed to a booth where a couple men were seated. Josie was about to decline again when she saw someone else join the group. She looked back to the man beside her.
                  He rocked back on his heels, “We won’t even trap you there – you can sit on the outside.”
                  She held her hand out, “Josie.”
                  “Malachi,” he grinned, “Malachi Prince. What are you drinking?”
                  “I’m good,” she held up the soda as proof.
                  She followed him to the table and took the seat opposite Tag.
                  That man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.
                  “Guys, this is Josie. Josie, this is Tag Madden, Lowell Lutz, and Harry Jacobson. We’re in the same unit. ”
                  “Cops?” she asked just to be polite.
                  “Yeah,” Malachi took a sip of his beer.
                  “You here alone, Miss. . .?” Lowell hinted at a last name.
                  “It’s Josie,” she deflected neatly. “And, yes, I am. I was supposed to meet someone, but I think I’ve been stood up.”
                  “A date?” Tag spoke up.
                  She wondered if that was a hint of jealousy she heard, “I wouldn’t say so.”
                  “What is it you do, Josie?” Harry was leaned back in the corner of the booth, comfortable.
                  “I work in the film industry.”
                  “Really?” Malachi latched onto that, “Doing what?”
                  “I work with the development of action sequences.”
                  Tag made a noise in the back of his throat.
                  “Is there a problem, Officer Madden?” she plastered a syrupy smile on her face.
                  “Nope.”
                  Harry laughed, “I wouldn’t concern yourself over Tag. He got shot down by that blonde over in the corner about two minutes before you came over.”
                  Josie forced herself to laugh, “Maybe you should run your lines by me, Tag. I could analyze them for you to see what went wrong.”
                  He rolled his eyes.
                  “You can see how advantageous it would be, certainly,” she toyed with her straw. “I am, after all, a woman.”