Page 16 of Breaking All The Rules
“What’d you think I’d say?”
“I don’t know.” His laughter dropped away. “An ex-con or a…circus clown?”
Bea could probably give the ex-con a chance, depending on what he’d done, but she wasn’t sure how desperate she’d have to become to let a circus clown get her off. Although she supposed there was no reason why they weren’t just as good at delivering orgasms as everyone else in the general population. It seemed discriminatory to exclude them, after all.
And now she was thinking about clowns in an entirely inappropriate manner…
Bea’s brow wrinkled in irritation. “I just meant someone who isn’t an ad executive. Who isn’t suitable.” Her grandmother loved that word. “Someone who doesn’t have a good job and a flashy suit and an expensive car.”
Like they were the holy grail of the male species.
He made a face. “They sound boring.”
“No.” Bea sighed. “They’re not. They’re perfectly fine. They’re just not…” A hot young cop from Hicksville who says panties and licks his lips like he’s in an ad for blueberry pancake–flavored ChapStick. He was definitely unsuitable. “Dean Winchester, you know?”
“To be fair…there is only one Dean.”
He grinned then, and Bea grinned back—the man was impossible to dislike. “This is true.”
Pushing his plate away, Austin picked up his cup of coffee. “Well, now you got yourself some ideas, what are you going to do first?”
Bea stared at him. Just coming up with those things had been hard enough for one day. He couldn’t seriously expect her to pick one and do it as well? He quirked an eyebrow and murmured, “Bok, bok, bok.”
Chicken noises? He was making chicken noises. “Aren’t you supposed to be maintaining law and order around here? How would your chief like it if he knew you were encouraging anarchy?”
“Oh yeah, let me know when you buy the fondue set so Arlo can call in the SWAT team.”
Goaded by the implication she was no threat to civilian order, she sorted through the ideas she’d put forward and picked one. “Burn rubber.” Why not start at the beginning? Especially given how pissed she was at her father for his suck-it-up-and-go-apologize response to her quitting.
“Great choice.” He nodded appreciatively. “You do know how to burn rubber, right?”
“Nope.” Not the first clue. “That’s why God invented YouTube.”
“Would you like me to show you?”
Bea blinked at the suggestion. Not just because a member of the police force offering to help (wasn’t that aiding and abetting?) her break the laws he was sworn to upheld didn’t seem right but by how swiftly it had been delivered. “Wouldn’t that be wrong? You showing me how to commit an offense? What number was it again?”
“Number two three nine.”
Bea was pretty sure that hadn’t been the number and Austin was just pulling these statutes out of his ass, but she honestly didn’t care.
“If I’m on duty, in my uniform, not a good look, but when I’m off duty and I’m just Joe Citizen? Then Arlo’s gotta catch me first.”
He broke into a broad grin, and Bea laughed despite herself. But, hell, there was no denying doing something like that made her nervous. “I don’t know, maybe I have to work up to that one?” She should choose something less risky as her opening salvo.
“Bok, bok, bok.”
“Really?”
“Come on, Beatrice. Ask yourself, WWDD?”
Trying not to get sidetracked by how good her name sounded on his lips, Bea tried to figure out what WWDD meant. She came up empty. “Okay. I give up. What the hell is WWDD?”
He smiled a smile then of such supreme confidence and sex appeal, Bea didn’t just feel it between her legs—it reverberated through her entire reproductive tract.
“What Would Dean Do,” he said, then waggled his eyebrows.
Bea laughed. What would Dean do? Well hell…what wouldn’t Dean do? Burning a bit of rubber was very low on the hazard scale compared to, say, demon slaying. Bea had to admit, WWDD might be a very good catchphrase going forward. Why not use him for bravado as well as eye candy?
