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Chapter Four
NEIL
I check my watch and give her another thirty seconds. When the time is up, I walk inside and past the front desk. The young clerk is on the phone, and when he sees me, his face pales.
“Wait, Mr. Anders, I need to talk to you,” he calls from behind me, but I ignore him. “Mr. Anders!”
The small hotel is only three floors, so I skip the elevator and opt for the stairs. Whatever shouts of protest he was making are fading away when I reach the top and take out my room key.
When Mrs. Nelson at the diner tried to chat me up, I had a feeling something was happening.
I made an excuse about leaving something in my car and went in search of Georgia.
She wasn’t exactly discreet about it seeing as how her cruiser is parked directly in front of the hotel and not at the station where she said she would meet me.
I stayed outside and listened to her conversation with the guy at the counter, then gave her a little time to do her snooping. I’ve got nothing in my room that would be of any interest to her, so I figured I’d let her play detective. She seems to enjoy the theatrics of all this more than anything.
Part of me wishes it wasn’t so damn adorable watching her pretend to be a cop. It’s making my job harder than it needs to be. And I’m not going to think about what it’s doing to my cock.
From everything I’ve seen in this town, there’s a need for law enforcement about as much as they need surf instructors. Which is to say, not at all. But I guess if it gives the town peace of mind having one on hand, and it lets Georgia play dress-up, what’s the harm?
My duty to my job reminds me that this isn’t about letting her have a good time. It’s about holding someone responsible for the death of Simon Gregory. Even if Simon was the reason Simon was killed.
Taking out my room key, I press my ear to the door before I scan it. There’s a shuffle and then a loud thump, followed by a crash.
“Dang it, why would they put a lamp by the bed?” Georgia asks herself on the other side of the door.
It’s an effort to hide my smile as I scan the key on the lock. It beeps, and then I hear her scrambling before I push open the door to my room.
As I glance around, I see she’s not exactly been discreet in her snooping. I’m generally a neat person, so I can tell right away she’s looked through a lot of stuff and not put any of it back where it goes.
The obvious place for her to hide would be the closet or under the bed, but the resident sheriff has chosen behind the curtains. I know because I can see her shoes peeking out at the bottom.
“Sheriff, if you’d come out from behind the curtains, it would save us both some time.”
There’s some shuffling behind the curtain for a brief second before she whips it back, holding her gun in front of her.
“Put your hands where I can see them.”
I cock my head to the side in confusion. “Aren’t you the one that broke into my room?”
“I got a call about a suspicious person in here. How do I know it wasn’t you?”
“You think I’m the suspicious person? The one paying for this room?”
“One can never be too careful, and I said put your hands up.”
“Or what, you’re going to get soap on me?” I challenge, and she deflates, dropping her arms at her sides.
“Dang it, how did you know? Nobody else can tell.” She looks at her toy gun with actual disappointment.
“Well, other than the fact that I’m a trained FBI agent, the words bubble blaster are written on the handle.”
“Oh.” She turns it over and shakes her head. “Wonder if I can file that off.”
“Hey, um, back to this. Why did you break into my room?”
“Like I said, I got a call.” She tucks her fake gun into her belt and straightens her shoulders like she’s leading an investigation.
“And why were you hiding?”
“Because you could have been the bad guy. Gah, keep up, Neil.”
Damn it, my body should not react to her saying my name. “Find anything interesting?”
I walk close to her, and she takes a few steps back. “Not really.” She glances around and then back at me. “Some might say you have an alarming amount of black suits.”
This time my grin slips free before I can hide it. “It makes packing easy.”
“And also, who brings their own towels from home to a hotel?” She puts her hands on her hips, reminding me of that damn dress she was wearing yesterday and all those curves she’s hiding under her uniform.
“Someone who likes to know their towels are clean.” I move even closer, and when she backs up, she hits the table behind her.
It’s then she realizes she’s got nowhere else to go and we’re alone in my room.
“I’m curious, though. Before you knocked over the lamp, did you find anything else on the bedside table? ”
She swallows hard, and I don’t miss the way her cheeks flush pink. Oh, she definitely saw the lube. I wonder if she has any idea I was jerking myself all night to thoughts of her.
“Interesting.” We’re not touching, but I’m so close to her that I can feel the heat of her body against mine. “Well, I guess if you’re finished snooping in my room, we can go to the station?”