No Falling Allowed (No Kissing Allowed) Read Free Page B

The important things couldn’t be bought, anyway.
    I’d just decided that my mood was shot for the night, when I locked onto the farthest right spot from where I stood. And just like that, my dark mood lightened.
    Three women appeared to be arguing, even though two were smiling, and one was most certainly the sassy chick from the Met. I tried to remember her name and drew a blank, but I’d recognize her face anywhere. It was perfect in a way that made me question whether it’d been a gift from God or created by an expert surgeon.
    Back home, women owned their imperfections or covered them with makeup. Here in New York, an imperfection was easily corrected by a quick trip to the doc.
    “You good to cover the right?” Charlie asked.
    “I’m there.”
    Normally, I’d try to get a feel for the crowd around a bar, start in on my thing, which worked well the previous times I’d helped Charlie out, but here and now, all I could do was focus on the woman who’d assured me she wouldn’t show, wouldn’t change her mind, couldn’t care less about me or Route 6. Yet here she was.
    The small victory reminded me of my high school days, back when Jonah wasn’t mine, and all I thought about was whatever ball was in my hand and whatever skirt sat beside me. It may have been a shitty way to live, but damn if it wasn’t fun.
    “Hey there, City. Thought you didn’t change your mind.”
    Her eyes hit mine and holy hell. Emerald green cradled in full, black lashes and a commanding look that suggested she led, never followed. Which all meant I was in trouble even before she spoke. Few women could level you with a simple look, and fewer showed something deeper within that gaze—a hint at thoughts other than hair or nails or makeup or the next purchase. Then again, I didn’t know this chick, and she could just as soon be my worst nightmare. “What can I say? I was dragged here by force. The restraining order has been filed, and my new friends should be delivered any moment.” She checked her watch for effect, her front teeth clamping down over her full bottom lip.
    Did I mention holy hell?
    “There are worse places to be dragged by force.”
    I grabbed a shaker, threw together the ingredients Charlie had already set out for the drink, and shook it up, my eyes back on hers. I could stare at this girl all day, listen to that silky voice, and never grow bored.
    What the hell was wrong with me?
    “Maybe.” Her gaze traveled around the bar, landing on a couple who’d already had too much to drink and clearly forgotten they were in public. “Or maybe not.”
    I released a slow laugh. “Damn, girl. Where’d you come from?”
    “My mother claims me, though I have my doubts.”
    Another chuckle broke free, and she rewarded me with a smile that had me transfixed. For once, I wasn’t thinking about all the things I should be doing, my responsibilities, my real life. I wasn’t thinking about anything other than this woman in front of me, and how for a few brief seconds I could forget all the rest.
    “You said you’re only here for the weekend, right? So where are you from?” she asked, leaning forward a bit now, likely so she could hear over the noise, but a small part of me took it as another victory. I wanted to ask her name so I could start calling her by it, in my head and aloud, but we’d barely tiptoed into the comfort zone. Something told me forgetting her name would pull her back to whatever cold place she’d slipped into at the Met.
    “Cricket Creek.”
    Her eyebrows lifted. “Seriously? That’s a place?”
    “Now, now. Do I detect northern condescension?”
    “Absolutely.”
    I grinned or maybe I’d never stopped grinning. Clearly any game I had disappeared the moment I met this woman. “At least you’re honest. I like that.” And I did. Most women said one thing, thought another. It was refreshing to meet someone who laid it all out there, take it or leave it, and hell if I didn’t want to take in every