Page 39 of Snatched
And she shouldn’t be thinking about me.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her.
I close my eyes.
Just then, my phone buzzes.
I jolt upright. Diesel complains, offended, and relocates to the foot of the bed.
I grab my phone.
Elena: Date was a dud. Major dud. Thanks again for the wine. And my ID.
Elena: Also…somebody left THIS behind.
A photo appears.
Mycredit card.
On her kitchen counter.
My stomach drops.
Colt: Shit. Seriously? I didn’t even notice.
Elena: Yep. You must’ve pulled it out when you paid. I asked the waiter to run back outside with it, but you were already gone.
I sit there, stunned.
She chased after me?
Colt: I must’ve been moving fast.
Elena: You Irish-goodbyed your own date-that’s-not-a-date. Bold move.
I rub my hand over my face.
Colt: You didn’t have to grab it. Thank you.
Elena: Of course I did. Consider it even for the badge…Unless you want me to bring it to you?
I stare at that message longer than is normal.
Longer than is good.
Diesel head-butts my arm.
“I know,” I mutter. “I know.”
She’s offering.
She’d literally come all the way to my place with my card.
At eleven o’clock at night.
Dangerous.
Stupid.
