Every Little Kiss Read Online Free PDF

This miserably awkward situation was all on her. With luck, this would be the end of it. “Thanks,” she said, “for, you know, everything. I appreciate the help.”
And let’s just pretend we’ve never met each other from here on out, okay?
    “Not a problem,” he replied. He picked up his duty belt from the coffee table and put it on, then grabbed his keys. A small inscrutable smile crossed his lips beforeSeth turned to go to the door. God knew what he was thinking.
    Emma watched him walk away, hating herself a little for taking a second to admire the way his pants hugged one very nice butt. She had to stop herself from offering a more tangible form of thanks—dinner, a bottle of wine, something more than just a lame “see you around” for having put up with her at her most pathetic. But though her instinct toward politeness was strong, her sense of self-preservation was stronger. Seth was too interesting to see again. Even if she’d been looking for a guy, which she wasn’t, he was completely unsuitable. The sight of the badge on his chest and the gun at his hip just drove that home.
    Still, manners dictated she follow him to the door, if for nothing more than to bid him a final farewell and provide a visual reminder that no, he wouldn’t ever want to go out with a woman capable of looking this bad.
    “Bye,” Emma rasped. “Thanks again. I’ll make sure Aaron makes good on that dinner offer. You’ve earned it.”
    He turned his head to look at her, and for a brief instant she thought he was going to do something terrible, like ask to see her again. Instead, he just said, “It was nice meeting you, Emma. Hope I’ll see you around.”
    It was exactly what she’d wanted. And she felt a nasty slap of disappointment anyway as Seth gave her one last devastating smile and shut the door.
    Emma looked down at Boof, who had come to rub against her leg.
    “Aaron was right. I really am a hot mess,” she said.
    In response, Boof gave an irritable meow and headed for the kitchen. His breakfast was late. And really, shouldn’t she and her cat both have more pressingconcerns than Officer Seth Andersen? She told herself that the answer was yes as she locked the door, then headed for the kitchen.
    And she was still telling herself that as she pulled the curtains aside just enough to watch him get in his cruiser and drive away.

Chapter Three
    S he was sitting quietly at her desk Monday morning, minding her own business, when the sense of impending doom that had been circling since the day before landed on Emma with a resounding thud. The thud, in this case, sounded a lot like the text alert on her cell phone. And the bearer of ultimate doom was her assistant, Brynn.
    You might want to see this.—B.
    No. No, she really did not. But Emma clicked the video Brynn had linked anyway, then watched silently as someone who looked a lot like her used every rusty skill remembered from childhood dance lessons to wow the crowd down at the Harvest Cove Tavern. Every wobbly pirouette, every random butt wiggle, had been captured for posterity in a shaky video some enterprising soul had taken on his or her phone.
    Emma made a soft, pained sound. “The robot? I did the
robot
?”
    Yes, she had. It was on YouTube. It was probably on Facebook.
    It was bad.
    And since the name BigPimpin372 could have belonged to any number of local jerks, she had no one to chase after to demand the video be taken down. . . . Though when she calmed down a little, she fully intended to try anyway. She just needed a minute. Maybe more than a minute.
    Emma rubbed absently at the increasing ache in her right temple as the woman in the video threw herself into a chair, tossed her head back to pose dramatically, and upended a pitcher of beer onto herself to the cheers of the crowd. It was a serviceable
Flashdance
homage, she guessed.
    “Well. Wow.”
    Apparently her sister wasn’t the only one with a flair for the dramatic. Who knew?
    Emma made it through