Man Cuffed (Man Hands, #4)

by Sarina Bowen

Lance has not had a girlfriend in a while. He listens to erotic romance audiobooks instead. Sometimes, he plays me excerpts of his favorites.

“Can I borrow a cup of sugar?” Her smile grows mischievous. “Is that a euphemism? Please say yes.”

When was the last time I heard live music? I’d forgotten what it felt like to be so close to a song that you can feel it in your chest. The fiddle has crawled down into my gut and given everything a tug.

Goddammit, her hugs are gonna kill me. Today she smells like strawberries, roses, and every lustful thought I’ve ever had in my whole life.

“Well, I don’t like it.” I shrug. “But, to paraphrase Hemingway, as a cop ‘you should not judge, you should understand.’” “What’s there to understand, though? You don’t get to see the reasons that people do things. She fed you that line about her boyfriend dumping her. But we don’t even know if it’s true.” “It doesn’t matter,” I tell her as we cruise around another quiet neighborhood. “The law doesn’t care why she’s driving drunk. And it’s not my job to hate her for it. This might just be the wake-up call she needs, you know? To stop taking risks that endanger herself as well as others. Everyone makes mistakes, Meg.”

“Yeah, but which Meg?” “All the Meg!” he says. “You’re perfect just as you are.” He says those words. Out loud. And I hear them.

“It means that everyone thinks he’s the good guy, even when he’s not. You can’t change your brother. You can only change how upset you are at him.”