Justice For Abby Read Online Free Page B

highway.”
    “Huh.” She yawned. “It must’ve been the two glasses of champagne.” Stretching, she watched Jerrod scan the shadows in the dimly lit area, as he did every time he pulled his Audi into their reserved spot. He killed the ignition and unsnapped the strap on his holster.
    “Ready?”
    “Yeah.”
    He gave her a nod and got out.
    She unfastened her seatbelt, waiting for Jerrod to come around to her side. He opened her door, and she stood, blocked by his body, moving just to his right as they walked to the garage-level entrance—a well-choreographed dance they perfected months ago.
    She slid her plastic card in the slot, waiting for the door to release. Jerrod pulled on the handle, letting her in ahead of him, covering his holster with a quick slide of his jacket as they stepped into the warmth and comfort of their swank surroundings. Abby’s heels clicked against glossy marble as they passed potted palms and bold, modern paintings decorating the walls on their way to the elevators.
    “Happy New Year, Mr. and Mrs. T.”
    “Happy New Year, Moses,” Abby smiled, never bothering to correct the night guard’s assumptions that she and Jerrod were married or that their last names started with a ‘T.’ Lily Thomas Brand’s name was on the lease, not hers or Jerrod’s—just one of the numerous precautions Ethan Cooke Security had set in place.
    The elevator doors slid open, and they both stepped in.
    “Good night,” Jerrod said as the doors shut. He gave her a small smile and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor.
    “Ugh, I have to take these off .” Abby balanced herself with a hand on Jerrod’s arm while she slid her feet from her ice pick heels and wiggled her aching toes. “Better,” she sighed, standing straight, looking at their distorted side-by-side images in the gold plated metal. “So, do you think you’ll ever get sick of being Mr. Thomas? I’m pretty sure Lily doesn’t mind, but...” She shrugged, sending a gentle elbow to his ribs.
    “I have no problem being the man behind the woman.”
    She laughed. “Why, Jerrod, you made a joke. Twenty-fifteen is just beginning, and you’re already a changed man.”
    He smiled, flashing her his slightly crooked right incisor.
    She smiled back, wanting another one of those grins. There was something about that imperfect tooth among the straight rows of whites that made her melt. “By February you might start loosening your tie.” She gave the black silk a tug. “Then I won’t know what to do with you.”
    He chuckled.
    “By March you could be walking around the apartment in your pajamas.” She gasped and pressed her fingers to her mouth.
    The door opened, and he stepped out first. “Who says I wear pajamas?”
    She stopped mid-step, pleasantly surprised by his willingness to play. “Mr. Quinn, I do believe I might swoon,” she said in her best southern drawl. “I feel the vapors coming on.” She fluttered her hand in front of her face.
    “We should hurry and get inside then. Dead weight’s a bitch to carry, even with someone your size.” He slid the key in the lock, opening the door to the well-lit entryway.
    Abby walked in before him, passing the wall of glass showcasing the city beyond, tossing her shoes to the floor and her wrap over the closet doorknob. She turned, really looking at the man she shared such a huge part of her life with, suddenly, oddly, and powerfully attracted. Jerrod was hot, there was no doubt about it with his irresistible baby blues, long lashes most women would kill for, and amazing ass in a pair of Levis, but she’d never seen him as anything more than her good friend and bodyguard. Jerrod was just too serious. He wore his professional mask twenty-four seven, which was a major turnoff. But this guy—the one who indulged her pithy comments and laughed, he was irresistible. She’d seen Mr. Funny on occasion, but tonight his grins and rare show of humor sent tingles of lust shooting through her