Wrong then Right (A Love Happens Novel Book 2) by Jodi Watters Page B

skipping over the address portion, pausing before she filled in her employer information. Biting her lip, she wondered just how much truth Beck really wanted.
    “Keep in mind you have to sign that document, which makes it illegal to knowingly falsify any information. Punishable by California Penal Code, section four-seventy.”
    Okay, so it seemed he wanted all the truth. “Are you a cop?”
    “Hell no, I’m not a cop,” he said, indignantly.
    “Is that true with drivers licenses, too? This penal code you speak of?”
    “Don’t fuck with me and just fill it out, okay?” He gave her a long, questioning look. “How old are you? You’re over twenty-one, right?”
    She lifted a brow. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late to be asking if I’m legal?” And bringing up the topic of their heated sexual copulation was the very definition of fucking with him.
    Hope laughed at his distressed look. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. I could be in real trouble though, because I lied to the DMV about my weight.” Looking back at the paper, she continued to fill it out as she spoke. “Shaved a good five pounds off. Okay, seven. Do you think the next time I get pulled over, the cop will say, ‘out of the car, ma’am,’ ” she mimicked, in a manly voice, “ ‘and step on this here scale, nice and easy now.’ ” Hope laughed, her eyes bright with humor. “If I had pizza for lunch, I’m going to prison for sure.”
    “I can’t tell you how badly I hope that happens,” he said, seriously.
    “You’re only saying that because of the potential for lesbian activity.” He actually laughed, filling her heart with warmth. “Finally. I was beginning to think you were dead inside. Now I know what it takes to make you laugh. Girl on girl jokes.” And she’d gladly tell him a thousand more if it meant she was on the receiving end of that panty melting smile. It enhanced the creases at the corners of his eyes, but took about decade’s worth of seriousness off his handsome face.
    Signing the bottom of the form with a flourish, she handed it to him with trepidation and leaned back against her side of the porch. She watched him zero in on her job description.
    “You work at Club Kitten?” His brow wrinkled when he looked up. “You really got fired from the Vistancia?” She nodded and he went back to the form. “And your job title is... cocktease waitress?”
    “That’s what Bubba calls us. It’s a word play on cocktail waitress.” When his face remained straight, she slowly added, “Because it’s a strip club. Get it?”
    “Yeah, I get it. And you make ten dollars an hour?” He glanced back up. “As a cocktease?”
    Now who was trying to be funny? “A cocktease waitress ,” she corrected, snobbishly. “And yes, for ten bucks an hour. Plus tips.”
    “Is there good money in that? Being a cocktease... waitress?” He was having a little too much fun with this. The slight lift at the corners of his mouth gave him away.
    “I do okay depending on the day of the week. If there’s a theme party scheduled then it’s a slam dunk. Horny House Husband Night really brings ‘em in. And it turns out, I’m actually good at serving drinks. Unlike the rest of my life, I don’t completely suck at it.”
    “Really? Is sucking beyond the scope of duties for a cocktease waitress?”
    “Funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, it’s beyond the scope and illegal, too. Considering how familiar you are with the California Penal Code, you should know that. And for the record, I resent your inference that I’m a prostitute. You weren’t hugged very much as a child were you?”
    “Do you know the statistics of women who work in strip clubs?”
    “No, but let me guess. You do? You seem like a numbers kind of guy to me. I bet you’re an accountant, right? Or maybe an investment banker.” She smirked as she said it. “Those stuffy suit types aren’t my favorite people these days.”
    He wasn’t easily