Love Me If You Must Read Online Free

consciously avoided staring at all the face jewelry. “I’d like a tall café mocha with extra whipped cream, please.”
    The girl looked at me over her nose pearl, with a long, sweeping gaze that had my dream of a quick cup of java melting like a marshmallow in boiling water. I tried not to breathe any more of the robust coffee scent than absolutely necessary. A caffeine headache already prodded my temples, no doubt aggravated by the delay.
    The teen’s eyebrow ring gave a tilt. “You totally look like someone who used to live around here.”
    Yeah, that’s me. Generic face.
    “I just moved in,” I said. “Maybe it’s the hat that’s familiar.” I gave the brim a jaunty slant. “It’s me, Ilsa Lund.”
    The girl’s lip curled in ignorance.
    “From Casablanca,” I said.
    The clerk’s eyes glazed.
    “It’s an old movie.” That was one thing I had been grateful for over the years. I’d gotten to see the classics, something of which the younger generation was obviously deprived.
    I waved it off. “Never mind. I think I’ll have a cinnamon roll too. That big one in front will be perfect.”
    I pointed through the glass of the display case. The girl wrapped the pastry in paper and handed it to me, then got busy at the coffee machine.
    While I waited, I looked out the window and took a bite of the aromatic roll. The sugar melted on my tongue, nearly sending my mouth into spasms from the sudden onset of food.
    Rawlings was about as perfect a town as I could imagine. Cobblestones paved the one-block length of Independence Alley. Near the corner, the stones made a Liberty Bell pattern with the numbers 1776 beneath, welcoming visitors to the one-way street. Across from the coffee shop was Clothing Junction. Sweaters with Halloween designs hung like scarecrows in the window. Next to it was Heavenly Scents, then Fashion Depot and Victoria’s Sweet Shop. Pumpkins, bales of straw, and stalks of corn decorated the street all the way to the door of the historic Rawlings Hotel at the far end.
    “Here’s your coffee.” The tapping of fingernails on wood accompanied the words.
    I turned and gave the girl my biggest smile. “Thanks. Have a great day.” I left a big tip, hoping that my next visit would merit top-notch service.
    As I walked down Main Street, I could see a burgundy truck pulling into my driveway, the words Lloyd & Sons etched in white on the side.
    I quickened my pace, shoveling down bits of roll in between sips of coffee. I loved a contractor who was early. The project had a chance of getting done on schedule if the pattern held.
    “Here I am,” I called, waving as I cut across both street and tracks. I’d just landed my foot on the corner of my lawn when the high-pitched squeal of a police siren sounded behind me.
    I froze. The cinnamon roll and coffee I’d been savoring suddenly lodged in my throat.
    Bleep. Bleep. The siren persisted.
    I turned slowly, crushing my eyes shut, not wanting to believe it possible I could be detained for jaywalking.
    I opened them.
    A silver and blue police cruiser angled to a stop against the curb. The driver’s side door opened. Officer Brad got out and flicked me a wave over the top of the vehicle. I tried to shrink inside myself. My eyes dropped to the sidewalk at his approach.
    Never look a uniform in the eye. Be submissive. Don’t smart off. The lessons that had served me well over the years were second nature to me now. I dropped my hands to my sides. The coffee cup dangled between two fingers. The last bite of cinnamon roll plunked to the ground.
    “Hello, Miss Amble.” In front of me, shiny leather boots glinted in the morning sunshine.
    My nostrils flared and I diverted my gaze to a patch of grass growing over the concrete.
    So. He’d already looked me up in the computer. Already knew my name. My crime. The number of days I’d served penance.
    My jaw clenched. I held back the smart comments begging to burst out.
    He leaned toward me as if trying to