Wife Is A 4-Letter Word by Stephanie Bond

Author:Stephanie Bond
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-13T16:00:00+00:00

8

“I’VE NEVER BEEN so humiliated in my life,” Alan declared as he followed Pam out of the city jail and squinted into the late-afternoon sun. She looked chipper in her crisp white shorts and red silk blouse. He, on the other hand, still sported the sand-crusted swimming trunks and T-shirt he’d been wearing last night when the cop hauled him into jail like a common criminal. Between the cot he’d slept on and the realization that he and Pamela Kaminski hand been minutes away from sharing carnal knowledge, he hadn’t slept a wink.

“No one will find out,” Pam said in a soothing voice.

“Oh, really?” he asked. “Is that like, ‘It’s deserted, no one will see us’?”

She frowned. “I said I was sorry a hundred times—didn’t you hear me?”

“One hundred thirty-six times,” he corrected. “I heard you during the entire walk to the squad car last night, and as you ran alongside the police car when we drove away, and this morning in the courtroom while the judge was lecturing me—” He stopped and stared toward the street in disbelief, then pressed his palms against his temples. “Pam, are you nuts?”

“What?” She pushed the cheap sunglasses high on her forehead and unlocked the door to the powder blue limo.

“You left this pimpmobile parked in a fire zone in front of the jail for two hours?”

She shrugged her lovely shoulders. “I turned on the hazard lights.”

“Oh, well,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster. “I didn’t realize you’d turned on the hazard lights.” He summoned a dry laugh. “After all, everyone knows that hazard lights cancel out every broken law. Mow down a pedestrian? No problem, just turn on your hazards.”

“Well, it’s still here, isn’t it?” she demanded hotly.

“Who the hell else would want it?” he cried, feeling on the verge of hysteria.

She pointed to the passenger side. “Just get in, will you?”

“Oh, no,” he said, holding out his hand for the keys. “You are not driving.”

“I drove here without any problems!”

“Oh, really?” Alan crossed his arms, then nodded toward the front fender. “And I suppose that telephone pole—size dent just appeared from nowhere?”

She bit her bottom lip, and handed over the keys in silence.

“Thank you,” he said, then opened the driver-side door just as a police car pulled up behind the limo with its siren silent but flashing. When the young cop stepped out, he had already begun writing the ticket.

“Sir,” he said in a pleasant voice. “Do you have any idea what the fine is for parking in a fire lane in front of a government building?” Alan closed his eyes and counted to ten.

A few minutes later, Pam studied the pink carbon copy the police officer had given him and whistled low. “A hundred and forty-five dollars?”

“Do me a favor,” he said calmly, gripping the steering wheel so hard his hands hurt. “Just sit over there and don’t talk.”

“Look, Alan, I know you’re upset—”

“Upset?” he crowed. “Just because I’m now considered a sex offender? Why would that upset me?”

“It’s not as bad as you make it sound.

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