Free The Officer Says "I Do" by Jeanette Murray Page A

past ten years.
    The hallway was empty so he headed toward the restrooms. A trio of guys passed by and entered the men’s head, then the silence continued. He waited another few moments and was debating the wisdom of knocking on the door and calling out Madison’s name when it flew open and she walked right into his chest. On instinct, he grabbed her shoulders, then realized he was pulling her into him rather than steadying her. He humored himself by taking one deep breath of her scent—whiskey and something fruity, like pears—and leaned her back against the wall. After one giant step away, he studied her in the dim lighting.
    Her face was flushed, a few flyaway hairs stuck to her forehead. Instead of the regulation bun he normally saw her with, the brown locks flowed down past her shoulders. No, not brown. Auburn and mahogany and cedar all mixed in a jumble of colors that made him want to bend down and feel how silky they would be against his cheek.
    Her eyes were wide, as if she was still caught in surprise. And her lips, which were normally going a mile a minute with her constant friendly chatter, were parted as if caught mouthing the letter O . He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out, brushing the hairs off her face, tracing her bottom lip with his thumb.
    “Everything okay?” he asked, just to break the silence, then inwardly groaned. Now she would think he was asking about her bathroom trip. Casanova, move over. Jeremy Phillips was in the club.
    Her eyes widened a fraction more, then crinkled as she chuckled. “Is that why you were about to head into the women’s restroom? To check on me?”
    Not trusting himself to answer verbally any longer, he shrugged.
    Madison glanced around, then grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the end of the hallway. “Come on.”
    “The bar’s back that way,” he reminded her, letting the woman drag him along behind. He could have planted his feet and stopped her in a heartbeat, but he had a small problem of never denying Madison what she wanted whenever physically possible.
    Or, who knew. Maybe she was about to be sick.
    She stopped at the end of the hall, throwing a not-so-subtle look over her shoulder before throwing the door open. Fresh, cool night air greeted them as she led him out and the door shut behind her.
    He surveyed their surroundings, which weren’t many. A Dumpster, the brick exterior of the O Club itself, and a metal fence. There was no streetlight, nothing but the half-moon to highlight the area. Ambiance was lacking, for sure. But as he started to take mental notes of the spot, thinking it might be a great place for a fictional body dump, Madison pushed his shoulders. Caught off guard, he stumbled back until he smacked against the rough brick wall.
    “This has been a long time coming,” she said, her voice huskier than it had been only moments earlier.
    “What?” He felt like he’d missed an entire conversation between the hallway and the great outdoors. “What are you talking—”
    But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, as his lips were occupied with something other than talking.

Chapter 6
    Madison pressed her mouth to Jeremy’s, effectively cutting off any hope of finishing his question… and detouring all blood flow to below his belt. Her body slid up against his with violent insistence, one hand fisted in his shirt, the other dragging his head down to make her assault on his senses more complete. She was small, but she was feisty and knew how to make a point. His control was a taut wire, and her every move, every moan, sent that wire vibrating, dangerously close to snapping.
    He fought the urge to respond, desperately tried to keep from encouraging her. But he was at a loss at how to defuse the situation. Then the woman he’d spent the last ten years working on forgetting twisted her hips, grinding against his erection and nipped his bottom lip at the same time, and that wire snapped.
    Jeremy reached around the small