First Time For Everything

There was harm, however, in the way he was appreciating the fluid movements of the hazel-eyed girl/woman. She twisted, twirled and moved to the Latino hip-hop song—an odd choice given her cowboy boots—with a supple grace that was capable of contorting her body into almost impossible positions. Her dancing fired his imagination, turning his blood to molten metal.

“No harm? Tell that to the police. They don’t look amused at all,” Sara said. “They look ready to make an arrest.”

With effort, Blake shifted his gaze to the two unsmiling cops rapidly approaching the dance group, his mind filling with an interesting image of his hit-and-run perpetrator in handcuffs. And not in a professional capacity.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Blake gazed at the aforementioned policemen as one of them stopped to address the dancers engaged in the routine—a routine that currently involved undulating on the grass in an impressive dance move—while the other cop made a beeline for the beat-up VW Beetle blaring the music. And, for the first time, Blake noticed the leg encased in a long cast sticking out from the passenger seat of the offending car.

A weary groan of frustration escaped his lips, and his entertainment in the scene came to a screeching halt.

There was no doubt in his mind who the leg belonged to, because it was highly unlikely there could be two casts in Miami emblazoned with a red dragon from hip to toes. A cast tattoo, his sister had called it.

Hand on the VW’s hood, the police officer hunched over to speak with the hidden occupant, the cast engulfing the leg like a plaster anchor. One that Blake had thought would keep Nikki from landing in hot water—like getting thrown in jail. At least until he’d wrapped up his current case.

And there was nothing Blake hated more than being wrong.

Six hours later

“I came to arrange your release from jail as a favor to my sister, Ms. Lee,” Blake Bennington said, and Jax winced, saying a prayer of thanks, again, that she’d been the only one arrested today. The black interior of the limo and the lawyer’s dark good looks were a sharp contrast to his cool gray eyes as he went on. “Arguing the merits of the Miami Police Department with you wasn’t part of the deal.”

Beside him, Jax squirmed against the plush leather seat. Calling her new friend, Nikki Bennington, for advice had seemed logical. When the law student had shared that her brother was less than amused by today’s escapades, Jax couldn’t have cared less about some unknown stuffed shirt. Until she’d learned that Nikki’s deal with her brother meant he’d informed his chauffer to bypass a charity event and head for the jail to help. Before Blake Bennington had arrived, Jax had vowed to honor the generous gesture by holding her tongue to keep the peace.

A peace that had been most profoundly disturbed.

The hairs on her arms still stood on end from the initial electrifying sight of her hit-and-run victim materializing to offer assistance. After hours in custody, she should have been too spent to feel anything. But it wasn’t every day a girl was rescued from behind bars by a tuxedo-clad man more gorgeous than James Bond…leaving her body both shaken and stirred.

“I wasn’t arguing the police department’s merits,” she said, trying again for a conciliatory tone, which was pathetic at best. “I was just…” She forced herself to meet his gaze, the now familiar imposing form creating a jolting sizzle.

The attraction was horribly inconvenient, especially with the disapproving vibes he exuded. Keeping her opinions to herself wasn’t her usual style, and much, much harder than she’d originally thought.

She hiked her chin, aiming to bring a diplomatic end to their debate. “I was just questioning their priorities.”

Blake tipped his head. “And I’m sure the police would love to accommodate you and your priorities,” he said smoothly, clearly not meaning the words. “But they have a job to do and are bound by the letter of the law. So for future reference—” a single brow lifted, a perfect match to his wry tone “—disturbing the peace, no matter how innocently it’s done, is illegal.”

Jax bit her tongue at his tone, reminding herself to think of Nikki. Think of Nikki. During their previous run-in, Blake had appeared approachable, almost relaxed, but the moment he’d shown up to arrange her release, his intense lawyerly attitude had shown up, as well. Yet through it all the man had remained so cool. So calm. And now he was so right, damn him.

One more statement pleading her point of view and then she’d happily remain silent. “I didn’t plan this event with the intention of breaking the law.”

As if preparing for an interesting story, Blake leaned back, his posture one of a man in control. One arm thrown along the seat behind her. One leg crossed over the other. And two eyes focused on her as if daring her to impress him with her explanation.

“Then what was your intention?” he said.

“I work as a music therapist at South Glade Teen Center, an after-school club for kids. The county pulled their funding…”

Her heart rate jumped, fear squeezing her chest. The club provided a safe place for the kids to be themselves. To belong. Without the facility, her high school years would have been unbearable. Shifting from foster family to foster family, South Glade had been the only constant, the one place she’d truly felt at home. Losing it now wasn’t an option.

Seeking calm, she rubbed the small tattoo that partially disguised the two well-healed scars on her wrist. Warrior wounds, she liked to call them. Symbols of her past. They reminded her of who she was.

And how far she’d come.

She straightened her shoulders and pushed the panic aside. “So I wanted to gain a little positive publicity for our cause.”

“By getting arrested?”

Was he mocking her?

She inhaled a soothing breath, straining for patience. “That’s how Nikki got involved. A mutual friend asked her for tips on how to proceed legally.”

And you should have followed Nikki’s advice more closely, Jax.

Blake appeared unimpressed with her explanation. “Well, according to the police report, the music blaring from your VW Beetle was loud enough to disturb the peace.”

Inwardly, she winced, hating her defensive tone. “I told Nikki it’s kinda hard to keep the beat to music you can’t hear.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Not to mention the dance move that landed you on the sidewalk where you—” he leaned forward to the seat across from them and retrieved the report, scanning the page “—and I quote…‘failed to comply with a lawful order to cease from obstructing a public sidewalk.’ End quote.”

His gaze landed on hers again, and heat crept up her face, but she refused to let him see her blush. So Jax concentrated very hard on brushing away the grains of sand clinging to her denim cutoffs, remnants of her time spent on the ground.

“I couldn’t hear the police officer’s order to move because of the music,” she mumbled.

“Precisely,” he said evenly.

She shot him a look she hoped was veiled by her lashes, her voice growing stronger. “And I didn’t intend to land on the sidewalk. I just overshot my mark doing the Worm.”

He raised a brow higher. “I assume you’re referring to the dance step that involved you undulating along the ground on your belly.”

He set the report on the seat between them and went still, as if he couldn’t wait for her to explain further. Somehow she didn’t think further details would help.

“The maneuver isn’t easy to do,” she said.

“It certainly looked painful.”

She ignored him and went on. “And I unintentionally positioned myself in the wrong spot. I didn’t know that I was getting too close to the walkway.”

“In retrospect, a fatal error in judgment,” he said drily.

The sarcasm was really getting on her nerves.

“There was no time to practice,” she said. “We needed to react quickly to the budget cuts. While the news was fresh in the public’s mind.”

He settled a little deeper into the seat. “And you thought taking the teens you were responsible for out on a flash mob and risking arrest was a good expression of your dissatisfaction?”

Jeez, putting it like that made her feel like a crazy lady. “I told you, I was trying to keep it legal.”

Above the pristine tux and the tanned, flawless complexion of his face, the two dark slashes of eyebrows were perfectly schooled into a noncommittal expression. And despite the sophisticated polish and the undertones of skepticism, she suddenly got the impression that Blake Bennington was as amused as he was disapproving of her actions.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Deep down, you find this whole thing funny, don’t you?”