Page 49 of Perdition
But she didn’t hit the ground…she hit a hard chest and thick, muscular arms.
Gasping, her heart racing, she looked up into the face of grinning temptation.
Officer Bradley Copper.
“Whoa there, Emily,” he said, his handsomely rugged face split in a smile that lit him up. His blue eyes were crinkled at thesides, and his straight, white teeth flashed in that way only an All-American hottie could do it.
Lord, she was a mess—her plump ass was pressed against his thigh, since he pushed out his long, strong leg to help catch her mid-fall. She was basically sitting on him, leaning back against him like a couch, in the middle of the liquor store aisle.
Suddenly aware of how she must look, and how close she was to the man, she stiffened, mentally cursed, then tried to find her footing.
Helping to steady her to her feet, Officer Copper said, his voice soft, “Let me help you up—don’t want you slipping again.”
Unable to speak for the lump of humiliation and the blasting heat of unwanted awareness blooming on her cheeks, she simply righted herself, planting her feet on the tile floor, and then nodding.
His smile never wavered, though his eyes gentled. “They really should put those signs everywhere,” he commented. His hands still on her arms, he squeezed them, leaning in to search her face. “You alright? You seem flustered.”
God, her face got hotter.
Shewasflustered, because she was having a shit day because of her shit husband and his shit whore, and then, when all she wanted was delicious fruity wine to help ease the pain of it, she tumbled into a humiliating situation with a man who could give Chris Evans as Captain America a run for his money.
Officer Copper’s smile slipped. “Em?” He dropped his hands from her arms but then reached out to tip up her chin, his finger curling under her face, gently directing her to look up at him. “You okay?”
She nearly shuddered at the contact.
Sucking in a breath, she offered the younger man a lopsided, self-deprecating smile.
She was a mess.
Pulling out of his grip, her cheeks on fire, she hoped she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. She drew in a breath, immediately picking up his scent. He smelled like Old Spice, autumn, and masculinity.
Lord, he smelled good.
Not as good as Mads, though. That man was catnip to the senses—leather, bourbon, heat, and mouth-watering sex appeal. His scent had always been a comfort, an allure, a piece of home and hearth that could settle and scintillate in equal measure.
How long had it been since she’d last drawn the scent of her husband into her lungs?
“Officer Copper, I’m so sorry about that,” she stressed, awkwardly, as she gripped her purse strap like it owed her money. “Just a little wonky after that near-death experience. Although, the Moscato might be worth a quick trip to the ER.”
The man before her grinned even wider, his strangely perfect mouth drawing her attention. She could see just that little bit of end-of-the-work-day scruff, golden blonde, shading his jaw and chin.
“Nothing is worth landing in the ER, darlin’, and I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”
Lord…did his voice just get all deep and velvety?
She squirmed, clearing her throat.
She’d just noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform, when he remarked, “I’m off-duty, Emily,” he ran a large, long-fingered hand down his chest, which was covered in a light gray t-shirt that molded to his impressive chest, narrow waist, and massive arms like the plastic wrap over an action figure. “Call me Brad.”
Dragging her eyes from where his t-shirt was half tucked into his jeans over his belt buckle, she blinked up at him, her brain like old oatmeal—sticky and thick.
When her gaze met his, the heat in his blue eyes struck her, hard.
She swallowed, suddenly warmer, more aware of her own body…and its proximity to a very attractive man…who was looking at her like he wanted her.
How long had it been since that had happened?
“What’re you here for, Offi—uh, Brad? What do cops usually drink off-duty?”