Free How Hard Can It Be? by Robyn Peterman Page B

manner.
    “You should have told me you had a restraining order against you! I never would have sent you to the news station had I known, you silly girl,” she purred.
    “Oh, okay.”
    “Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Santa demanded, leering at Evangeline.
    “Oh, Gerald darling, aren’t you just ever the gentleman,” she tittered, leaning forward to give Santa-Gerald a better view of her knockers.
    “Thank you,” I mumbled contritely, still trying to figure out what was going on. “How did you know about this and how did you get the charges dropped?”
    “That is no way to show your gratitude,” Sergeant Santa-Gerald growled, clearly affronted that I wasn’t on my knees before her majesty. “By the way, little missy, if she changes her mind, your ass is going to jail.”
    Something felt so wrong about this. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but my stomach churned with anxiety.
    “Gerald, my sweet,” Evangeline coyly crooned, sounding a little like a wounded cow, “you’re such an alpha male. Let’s go to your office and finish the paperwork.”
    Santa blushed furiously and quickly grasped Evangeline as she almost took a tumble off the table. Moving in general seemed to come with a whole set of issues for her.
    “Stay with the perp,” he snapped at Jack.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Santa and Evangeline led the entourage from the room. Herbie held the door and Cecil brought up the rear. Before he left the room, he turned back.
    “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
    “For what?” I asked, wanting him to admit his guilt in front of Jack. Why? I don’t know. It didn’t make any difference now . . .
    “For you,” he replied and left the room quickly.
    What in the hell did that mean?
    The silence in the room was loaded. I wandered over to the table and sat down, careful to avoid the area where Evangeline had been seated. Knowing Bionic Boobs, I’m fairly sure she wasn’t wearing panties. I swallowed back the bile that had risen in my throat. I was still unsure whether Jack had called Evangeline. Again, it really didn’t make any difference. I’d never see him after today anyway. Why did that make me feel queasy? I stared at everything except for the beautiful man leaning against the wall. I was so embarrassed and ashamed . . . and embarrassed. I struggled to find my voice. I could feel his eyes boring into me. I wanted to say something witty and sexy and self-deprecating . . . something he’d always remember.
    “Do you realize your Sergeant looks like Santa and his sidekick looks like Herbie the Dentist?” Oh fuck, did I just say that? It would have been an opportune time to shut up, but knowing when to stop had never been my forte . . . so I kept talking. “Do you see why I couldn’t touch her boobies? They’re ginormous and disgusting. I would have been scarred for life. I suppose some guys like huge knockers, but those suckers are rock hard. She could kill someone with those things. But like I said, some guys like ’em big. Do you like big ones?” I slapped my hand over my mouth before I uttered something more awful than what I’d already said. I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what that would be, but I was taking no chances.
    I stared at the floor wishing I could melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. I was so mortified I started getting mad at him. Reasonable? No. Legit? In my mind, yes. If he would just speak, I might not continue to make such a gaping ass of myself.
    “Please say something or I’m going to jump off the conversation cliff, never to be heard from again,” I whispered, still staring at the floor.
    “Rena, I want . . .” Jack started only to be cut off by the ungodly, horrifically timed reentrance of Herbie the Dentist.
    What did Jack want? Did he want me? Did he never want to see me again? Did he want to bump uglies and father my children? Maybe fathering my children was moving too fast . . . maybe a weekend of sweaty screaming sex would be a good place to start. Damn