Aurora Rose Reynolds has a brand new story in her Until Him/Her series out this week, and I have a little sneak peek for you.
Parked outside the police station in the middle of town, I stare at the double doors while trying to convince myself to get out of the car. Last night, after drinks with May, I went home, showered, and got into bed. But after two hours of tossing and turning, I got up and went to the kitchen. The task of mixing up a new batch of cookie dough and then baking them was just what I needed to relax. By the time I had a couple dozen soft, golden cookies that looked magazine perfect, I was ready to sleep.
But now, with those cookies in a container on the seat next to me, I wonder why I didn’t think about the fact that I would actually have to see Noah to give them to him.
“Maybe he’s not even here,” I mumble under my breath—hoping I’m right—before grabbing the plastic container, then forcing my hand to grasp the door handle and push it open. Once I’m out of my car, my knees feel weak, and my stomach churns as I walk across the sidewalk and up the steps to the precinct doors. Having never been to a police station before, I stand there for a second, not sure if I should knock or just go in. The option is taken away from me when a good-looking officer dressed in uniform opens the door.
“Hey, do you need some help?” he asks, his eyes roaming over me. I don’t miss the fact that his attention lingers on my ring finger.
“I’m just dropping these off for Noah.” I hold up the container, and his gaze moves to it before it meets mine once more.
“He’s not here yet.”
“Oh.” I attempt to look disappointed. “Do you think I can leave these?”
“Sure, I’ll put them on his desk if you want.” He reaches out to take them, then holds up the clear container to look inside. “Did you make these?”
“What’s a guy gotta do to get homemade cookies?” he asks, and I can’t help but smile.
“Take me to buy a car after working all night.”
“Sheww.” He whistles. “For a girl as pretty as you, I might do that.”
“Benton, aren’t you supposed to be heading out on patrol?” a deep voice barks, and my stomach bottoms out as I turn to find Noah walking up the sidewalk. He’s wearing a baseball cap and dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a burnt-orange thermal that fits him like a second skin, with a duffle bag that looks about as big as me over his shoulder.
“I was on my way out,” Benton answers, handing the container back to me. “Nice meeting you, miss.”
“Yeah, you too.” I bite my lip when he winks and swear I hear what sounds like a growl from Noah.
As Benton heads to the street, Noah stops on the stairs one step below me. With my heels on, we are just about eye-to-eye. With him not towering over me, I feel somewhat like we’re on even ground, but it does nothing to ease the fluttering in my stomach that’s only grown stronger since I heard his voice.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, and I realize I’ve just been staring at him, taking in the scruff on his jaw and how handsome he looks today.
“I made you cookies to say thank you for helping me out the other day.” I hold out the container, but he doesn’t take it or say a word. Instead, his eyes stay locked on mine, causing an uncomfortable knot to form in my stomach. “I figured nothing says thank you like baked goods.” I rub my lips together, then continue rambling like an idiot to fill the silence. “They’re chocolate chip… and not the cheap chocolate chips. The good ones from that fancy organic store across town.” Oh Lord, why did I say that? “Not that there is anything wrong with the less-expensive ones. I just like the way the real stuff melts and tastes, so I feel like spending a couple of dollars more is worth it in the end. But the flour and stuff is all just from the regular store.”
I push the container into his chest and let go, which forces him to grab it before it falls to the ground. “You can give them to your coworkers if you don’t want them.” I step around him and start down the steps, needing to get away, then gasp when his large palm wraps around my upper biceps.
“Where are you going?”
“To find the nearest lake to jump into.” I hear him chuckle and tip my head his way, which is a mistake because I’m already attracted to him. Seeing him smile just makes that even more apparent. And that sucks because the last thing I need is to be crushing on him, especially when I’m very much still married, and he’s so obviously not even a tad bit interested.
“Did you really make these?”
“I did,” I tell him, then watch as he drops his duffle bag to the ground so he can open the container and take out one of the cookies. He places the entire thing into his mouth.
“Damn,” he mumbles, closing his eyes while chewing, and I rub my lips together. I don’t know what he looks like when he’s having an orgasm, but the expression on his face now causes a rush of heat to spread up my neck to my cheeks.