Over The Limit by Lacey Silks Page B

Not even a glimpse at my exposed legs. I
searched through my bag, which resembled the inside of a piñata. Finally my
hand caught the wallet.
    “Do you know how fast you were going, ma’am?” he grumbled,
chewing his gum.
    Ma’am? Didn’t he see my thigh? Or my squeezed boobs?
    “I’m so sorry. I’m in a rush to a funeral.” I batted my
lashes at him, but he just kept writing on his notepad and hadn’t flipped a
page in a few seconds.
    Shit, he’s already writing the ticket!
    “Dressed like that? At this hour?” he asked, checking his watch.
    He noticed!
    “License and registration,” he snarled, this time looking up
from underneath his cap. His eyes widened and brows narrowed when our gazes
locked. Something about his dark stare made me hold my breath. Chills ran down
my spine as I tried to remember if he was a cop who’d caught me speeding
before, but I was sure I’d remember those chestnut eyes. Their familiarity
turned the chills to warmth that spread through me, and his cold response
didn’t matter. He leaned in toward me and took a whiff. I held my breath and
closed my eyes.
    He backed up, and I exhaled away from him.
    I handed him my papers and discreetly popped another mint in
my mouth.
    “Valerie White,” he murmured, studying the license again as
if he were checking to see if it were fake. The uniform suited this cop more
than others I’d seen. He owned it. His perfect, narrow hips held the belt of
power like a trophy, and the outfit looked more like a stripper’s costume than
a police officer’s.
    “Yes, sir.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel,
feeling my palms sweat.
    “You were speeding.” His cool tone of his voice became
warmer, and suddenly a guilty feeling for pretending I didn’t break the law
overwhelmed me. It’s not something I experience too often. In my line of work,
climbing the ladder of success while fending off the predatory eyes of my male co-workers
had thickened my skin. I was the only woman at the dealership and the top
producer. Driving away from the city was my way of escape.
    “I…”
    “Don’t give me a funeral story. Be honest, Valerie.” Officer
Grumpy jumped in before I got a chance to defend myself.
    My hands slid down to my knees and my shoulders lowered. I
slouched in the seat, wondering what had happened to the “ma’am.” If I opened
my smart mouth back at him, I could end up spending the night in jail. All he
had to do was ask me to take a breathalyser and I’d be done.
    “I was blowing off some steam. I’m sorry. My boyfriend just
broke up with me and—and—” Fresh tears streamed down my cheeks, and I began to
sob. Cries of defeat often helped. Men couldn’t stand women crying and usually
left them to their tears.
    “Have you been drinking, miss?” He leaned in again.
    “I had a glass of wine, that’s all.”
    “Step out of the vehicle, please.” Officer Persistent pulled
on the door handle and backed up.
    “Really, I’m fine. It was an hour ago.” I batted my wet
lashes at him again, trying to compose myself to look like the businesswoman
that I was during the day. But tonight, I was sure my hooker-worthy ensemble
and running mascara didn’t do justice to the persuasion my eyes were capable
of.
    “Step out of the vehicle ,Val.” His frosty tone became
warmer each time he spoke, and his voice was hitting a nerve inside me I
couldn’t quite understand.
    Val? What, we’re on first name basis now, Officer Rude? I
hope you choke on that gum!
    Only one person in my life had called me that – everyone else
knew I went by my full name – but he lived on the other side of the country, was
probably on his way to becoming a movie star. I lowered my skirt, lifted my
feet over the threshold, and stepped out. The gravel hurt my soles.
    “You’re barefoot?” he asked, readjusting his cap.
    Officer Kind stepped back, his face hidden in the dark
shadows of the night. His shoulders stretched outward in the fitted uniform
that