Miss Understood (The Coletrain Twins #2) - Miranda Elaine Page 0,2

go, Tills. This isn’t some silly prank where you ride around the streets at midnight on some old man’s Hoveround. You’ve gone too far. How were you expecting to get away with writing bad checks all over Sugar Hill? This ain’t a big town, babe. You had to know you would get caught.” I run my hands through my hair, my frustration with her at an all-time high. “Come in now with me. We’ll get all this behind us before we get started.”

“Started with what, Officer?” she snarks with a giggle on her lips and a question in her eyes, oblivious to what is happening.

Her wrists are still out in front, teasing me. I come in close and grab hold of them. With a slight tug, I pull her close. Letting her arms fall free, I use our new proximity to lean into her and whisper into her ear.

“Us, Tills. Us. You’ve gotta stop pulling this crap around town, wasting time. It’s time to get your past cleared up and let me in.” I run my nose along hers before continuing. “Let others see the goodness I see in you. I’m done waiting for you to get your shit together on your own. I gave you a chance. Now, I’m getting involved.” I lay it all out there.

“Umm . . .” Tillie stutters, her eyes widening as she rapidly looks around, probably contemplating how to make a quick getaway.

“Go ahead and run, Angel. Just know I’m gonna chase you. But be ready, because when I catch you, I’m not letting you go,” I tell her, leaving no room for doubt.

“Nate,” she whispers, her piercing, blue eyes finally looking into mine. Longing, hope, and fear flash in her blue orbs. She’s showing me a softness I’m sure no one else gets to see.

That bit of softness gives me all the hope I need. It always has.

“Get in the car, Tillie. Up front, with me, not in the back like some common criminal. Together, we’ll fix your shit.” I open the passenger door and gesture for her to make the next move.

She takes a minute to just stare into the car before she climbs into the front seat. I lean over her, grabbing the seat belt. I pull it over her lap. I swear I hear her take a deep breath as I’m pushed up against her. Just the thought that she is as affected by our closeness has me taking longer than necessary to get her safely secured.

Rounding the car, I can’t help the smile on my face. This has been a long time coming and I know tonight will be the start of us. I get in the driver’s seat and start on the ten-minute drive back to the station, ready to finally put the problems that have kept us apart to rest.

Tillie

Officer Nathan Trent, resident all-around good guy. My heaven. My hell.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head toward the ceiling of Nate’s cruiser and pray to small, sweet baby Jesus in the manger because it smells like oranges and Nate’s masculine shampoo. It’s his signature scent, and it has always made my damn mouth water.

I was sixteen years old the first time I really noticed Nate’s smell. It was my very first school dance. My momma had taken me to the Goodwill earlier in the day to scoop me up a secondhand dress that looked more worn than new. I didn’t care. Everyone in this town already knew how destitute and crooked my family was. I stood off in the corner of the gymnasium, a pair of dice in my hand, a group of big, smelly boys around me. I threw the dice into the middle of the circle and shuddered. My luck was pure shit that night. I needed to win. How else was I going to make sure my sister, Millie, ate lunch all week? I needed that money more than any of the big oafs standing around me.

Senior douchebag Brody huffed out a laugh. “Better luck next time, Wild Thing.”

Oh, no he didn’t. I walked across the circle, kicking the dice out of the way with my dirty, white flip-flop. I hated that nickname. Hated it. I looked up at Brody, who had more muscles than brains, and even though he was a good foot and a half taller than I was, I took my pointer finger and jabbed him right in his overgrown Neanderthal chest.

“You fuck right off, Brody Johnson!” I said through gritted