She was going to do this. All her efforts to follow the rules had gotten her nowhere. She’d never get legal custody, and her brothers and sister needed to get out of that house. If she had to become a kidnapper to make that happen, so be it.
This is it. Jules, former lifelong rule follower, was jumping across the line into felon-hood.
As she flew out of the parking lot, Jules was a bit disappointed that her tires didn’t squeal.
Chapter 3
Present Day
The cop was back.
Jules fumbled with the sugar packets she was refilling as she tried to watch without him noticing. She had to admit that he was gorgeous. In her old life—her other life—she might have flirted with him. Now, she looked at the uniform and all she could see was the prison time it represented. She wanted to hide—almost enough to duck into the walk-in cooler in back and not come out until he was gone. Jules’s fear of the cooler, however—with its heavy, safe-like door and exterior light switch and horribly claustrophobic feel—was just slightly greater than her fear of facing the hot police officer.
“Seriously?” Megan muttered, making Jules jump and scatter sugar packets across the counter. “He’s here again? Why can’t he just keep his cranky ass at home and stop ruining everyone else’s day?”
Her laugh came out as more of a gasp, drawing a sharp look from Megan.
“You all right? Don’t you let him bother you, okay? He’s surly to everyone, so it’s nothing you did. He didn’t used to be this bad, at least not until… Well, let’s not talk about that. Want to do rock-paper-scissors to see who has to take table four?”
Jules’s laugh came easier that time. She was relieved that Megan thought Jules’s nerves were because of Theo’s crabbiness, rather than the fact that he was a cop. The last thing she needed was for Megan to be suspicious of her too. “Sure.”
Under the cover of the counter, they held their fists out and chanted quietly, “One, two, three!”
Jules sighed at her smothered rock. “Shoot. Well, thanks for the offer.”
“If I were a nice person, I’d take the pissy cop’s table anyway.” When Jules looked at her hopefully, Megan smirked. “I said ‘if.’ I’m truly not a nice person.”
Jules watched Megan walk toward one of her tables. Her shoulders lifting and dropping again in a sigh, Jules stiffened her spine. She just needed to be confident. She also needed to not let the cop’s air of authority—as well as his muscled forearms and pretty dark-brown eyes—reduce her to the babbling idiot she’d become the last time he’d been at the diner. For goodness’ sake, she’d messed up her name. Her name. If she wanted to survive in her new life, she needed to step up her game. Firming her jaw, she picked up a coffeepot and headed to Theo’s table.
He watched her, his frown deepening with each step, and she fought the urge to slow or, better yet, turn tail and run.
“Morning.” She turned the mug in front of him right side up with shaky fingers. His wary eyes—almost black and alarmingly perceptive—took in everything, including, she was sure, her obvious unease. “Did you need a menu?”
Jules caught herself before he could respond.
“Sorry.” Her flush prickled her chest and moved up to her face to warm her cheeks. “Of course you don’t need a menu. You probably know everything on there by now. Well, I’m guessing you do. I’ve only seen you here once, but Megan mentioned you’re a regular.”
Abruptly, Jules stopped talking. More of the nervous babble pressed on her lungs, wanting out. Afraid to open her mouth again in case she started talking and wasn’t able to stop until she told this man—this police officer!—everything he shouldn’t know, she forced a smile and stayed quiet. She was turning out to be a terrible felon.
“Number three,” he said after another pause just long enough to make her uncomfortable. “Scrambled.”
“Got it.” Jules scribbled down the order, relieved to have something to focus on other than his too-intense gaze. He looked at her like he could see everything about her, and there were so many things she wanted to keep hidden. When she glanced up, she kept her eyes away from his, focusing on his left earlobe instead. “That’ll be right out.”
After picking up the coffeepot again, she began to turn around, relieved. A sound behind her, something halfway between a masculine grunt and a throat clearing, made her stop reluctantly. Jules focused on his other earlobe this time, trying not to show her renewed panic. “Was there something else you needed?”