Free Find Me in Manhattan (Finding #3) by Shealy James

Jameson. They’re looking for you. Come near me again, and I go to a judge to file a restraining order as well, which could land you in jail for a long time. We’re over, Jameson. No discussion.” I hit end on my phone and threw it on the desk in the interview room with a wild growl.
    I paced the length of the room trying to get the anger and frustration out of me. Why won’t he get over it? Move on! I’m not letting you hurt me again, Jameson! Fool me once…
    A knock on the door stopped me in my tracks because of the attractive man at the door—tall, strong, chiseled. He was my dream man. He was… Oh. My. God. He was real. The guy I saw that day in the hall. He wasn’t a dream or a mirage or a figment of my imagination. He was real and standing here in the flesh. The frustration I felt moments ago fled my mind as I stood frozen staring at the doorway. His presence filled the room while he eyed me up and down. I didn’t mind, considering I was doing the same to him. I noticed the way his t-shirt fit perfectly against his muscled torso. His jeans hung just right on his hips. He was tall and gorgeous. I wondered what he was doing at the VA until I remembered that I was supposed to be interviewing a Sergeant Michael Pearson.
    When my blue eyes snapped up to his hazel ones, I saw he wasn’t looking at my face nor was he checking me out. His gaze was directed at my arm right where Jameson’s fingerprints had gone from a discerning shade of black and blue to a lighter black and blue with a hideous yellow tinge around the outside. I quickly cleared my throat and covered my arm with one hand as I grabbed my jacket with the other.
    With my professionalism back intact, I waved to the chair in front of the table. “Sergeant Pearson, please have a seat.”

Seven
    Michael
    I walked in to do this godforsaken interview only to find a bombshell pacing the room, the good kind of bombshell, the kind that made me want to say fuck it all and claim her on the crappy little desk you would only find in a government building then take her home to meet my family. The beauty had curves for days and focused big blue eyes; she didn’t even know I was standing there. Either that or she was ignoring my presence, but there was something about the way she was chewing her fingernail that told me that she was lost in that pretty head of hers. There was a feeling of familiarity, like I had met her before, but I was sure if I’d ever had the pleasure of meeting her, I would have remembered. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. She was the beauty from the hall, the mirage. It made sense that she would be here. This was Dr. Wright’s study. The girl had been leaving Dr. Wright’s office when I saw her. If I could only hear her speak, I would know for certain.
    It was time to let her know that I was there instead of waiting for her to catch me staring. I knocked on the door trying not to startle her, but it didn’t work. As soon as my knock sounded, she jumped and turned to face me. Only then did I have the full image of how stunning this girl truly was. I should call her a woman because her body was definitely that of a woman, but her big eyes looked lost and innocent. That purity was the one thing the women in my life had been missing. That quality was probably one I would not have recognized as something I desired until one perfect package forced me to see how appealing that bright-eyed look could be.
    I dragged my eyes up from her shoes and took in everything from the high heels to the tight skirt and the silky sky blue shirt she was wearing. I appreciated every inch of her body until my eyes caught sight of her arm. Four distinct bruises colored the inside of her left arm. I knew without a doubt that those were fingerprints. Someone had hurt this girl. Was that why she was pacing and chewing her finger as if digesting that fingernail would ease her worry?
    While I stood there dumbly trying to figure it out, she caught me glaring at her arm