From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(7)

Josie chuckled, her anger tempered by only a small margin. “Why do we have to do this every time, Chester?”

He was almost pouting as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m too pretty for jail, Miss Josie.”

“Well, you end up there anyway, so why not just go with it?”

Chester looked back at Jon, who looked even more amused than she did. Chester’s eyes twinkled under his salt-and-pepper caterpillar eyebrows, and he gave a wistful smile from behind his grizzly beard.

“She don’t understand, but I bet you do, Mr. Landreaux. Nothing makes you feel more alive than being on the run.”

Jon walked up and grabbed ahold of Chester’s arm with an understanding nod. “You know, I get your meaning. But now we’re gonna have to take you in.”

“Naturally.” Chester tripped on his pants when he tried to take a step.

Jon tightened his grip to keep Chester on his feet. “Whoa there, buddy.”

Jon couldn’t help but smile when he heard Josie’s smoky voice from the other side of Chester.

“Somebody needs to pull up his pants, Jon.” It was more of a directive than a statement.

He looked around the old man and into Josie’s velvety brown eyes. “Just watch out for his business while you’re down there.”

She shook her head with a haughty laugh. “Oh no, not me. You.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “Rock-Paper-Scissors?”

Josie mirrored him. “You’re on.”

They each held a fist in front of them and air-pounded in time. Josie chose rock, and Jon landed on scissors.

Josie smiled, and Jon couldn’t even be mad at his misfortune, not when she was happy. Every time he saw her, he would try to coax a laugh out of her. It was rare indeed when he succeeded, so he figured pulling up Chester’s pants was a small price to pay to see that smile, like sunshine from behind a rain cloud, always gone too soon.

“Like you said,” she said, smug as hell, “watch out for his business. No one wants a dick in the ear. Chester would do that, wouldn’t you, Chester?”

“It’s true,” Chester admitted with a shrug.

Jon sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. Then, he stepped behind Chester, deciding that his ass end was the best bet.

“You always pick scissors,” Josie said.

He bent down and grabbed Chester’s pants. “No, I don’t.” Jon pulled the dirty khakis up.

“Yes, you do.”

Jon glanced at Josie, who wore a know-it-all look if he’d ever seen one, before peering over Chester’s shoulder. He shook the skip’s pants in an attempt to wiggle his dick back into them.

“Well, I will say that scissors are the best of all the choices in the game.”

“How so?”

“Aha!” Jon cheered as he got Chester put away, reaching around to zip and button the man’s pants before grabbing his arm again. “Rock, well, it’s just unrefined, and paper, well, paper’s got no personality.”

“And scissors are superior?” Josie asked as the trio made their way out of the alley.

“Sure, I mean, think about it. They’re sharp and shiny. One might even call them sophisticated. You could use scissors for good or evil. They’re like the multitool of Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Except that they’re all equal in the game.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, superior as an individual player.”

As they rounded the corner of the building, Josie tugged Chester toward her car.

“Oh no, I’ll take him. You can follow us,” Jon insisted, pulling Chester toward his Jeep.

“And have you shake me and get there first? No way. I’ll take him.” She pulled Chester back in her direction.

Jon watched her for a split second. “All right. Then I’m riding with you.”

She stiffened. “And you can take a cab back to The Duke from the station.”

He nodded. “Works for me.”

Josie gave him a look that said she wasn’t happy with the arrangement before hauling Chester to her car.

Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched her walk ahead of him. Even mad and uncomfortable, she was beautiful. Her hair shone like copper, and his fingers tingled as he remembered the feeling of the silky strands between them. His heart ached at the reminder that he’d lost any rights to touch her after how he handled things, finding himself wishing for the millionth time that he could go back and do it all over. Do it better. Do it right.

Josie could feel Jon’s eyes on her, and her brows furrowed with discomfort as she put Chester in her backseat. She climbed in and turned the key, and Jon slipped in next to her, smelling like rain and leather and man.

She swallowed hard.

Should have made him sit in the back.

He grabbed her auxiliary cable and held up the end. “You mind?”

“Rude. But fine, go ahead and hijack my radio.”

He plugged his phone in, and trumpets blared in the speakers as “Ring of Fire” began.

She backed out of the parking spot and took off toward the police station. “You are such a Southern boy.”

He looked at her like she had nine heads. “Southern or not, who doesn’t like Johnny Cash?”

Chester drunkenly sang along from the backseat.