Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

with the scrap of lace that covered my most intimate parts.
    “To hell with it,” he said and tore them from my body.
    I fought with his belt buckle and had just gotten it loose when I looked up and saw a statue of a saint staring straight at us.
    “Ohmigod, stop. We have to stop,” I said , pushing him back with both hands and jumping off his lap.
    “Are you crazy? You can’t just say stop. What’s wrong with you?”
    “We’re in a church,” I whispered. “I can not have sex in a church. My mother would kill me.”
    “I won’t tell her,” he said. “I swear. Now get back over here.”
    “No, aren’t you listening? We’re in a church. And all of these saints are staring at us,” I said horrified.
    “Are you Catholic?” Nick asked.
    “No.”
    “Then it doesn’t count. I think I read that somewhere. And technically we’re not in a church. We’re in a crypt. There’s a difference.”
    “So now we’re not only being disrespectful to God, but to dead people too. Great. We’re going to hell.”
    “I promise if you’ll come back over here I’ll make it worth the trip,” he begged.
    I looked over Nick’s hard body and was sorely tempted. He was laid out on the stone bench like an offering, his chest naked and the bulge behind his zipper swollen to the point that it looked painful. His eyes were clouded with lust and his breath was labored. He looked good enough to eat, and I groaned as I argued my wants against my morals.
    I didn’t have to make a decision because footsteps echoed and a door slammed, and I was so freaked out that someone had just witnessed me commit a mortal sin that I pulled my skirt down and was attempting to get my shirt untangled when a gunshot rang out.
    Nick was off the bench in a split second, his weapon drawn and the lust in his eyes replaced by a look of such intense hardness that I took a step back in fear. He ran towards the sound of the shot, through the door leading to the cemetery, and left me standing by myself in the middle of a bunch of dead guys.
    “Nick!” I screamed and took o ff after him. I couldn’t decide if I was angry with him for leaving me alone or angry that he’d run full speed ahead toward the sound of gunfire.
    I burst through the crypt door into the graveyard. The rain was back to torrential downpour status and the dark clouds made it hard to see. I couldn’t see Nick, but my adrenaline and fear wouldn’t let me do anything but run full speed ahead. My foot caught on a headstone and I went flying. It was fortunate that it was raining because landing on mud was a lot softer than landing on hard-packed dirt. I sprawled in an ungraceful heap on the graves of Dr. and Mrs. Stanley Took and grimaced as I noticed I’d uprooted the flowers that someone had so carefully planted.
    “Nick!” I called out again.
    I sat in the mud and rain in silence and waited to hear Nick’s voice or footsteps or another gunshot. My teeth chattered, there was mud in places best left unmentioned, and I was close to tears with fear that something bad had happened to Nick.
    “Addison!”
    I heard Nick’s bellow and breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t dead and I wasn’t alone. Things were suddenly looking up.
    I followed the sound of his voice, playing an impromptu game of Marco Polo, until I saw his shadow next to the wrought iron fence that surrounded the cemetery. His gun was still drawn and he was talking on his cell phone requesting an ambulance and back up.
    I looked down at his feet and saw the reason. Victor Mooney was lying face down in the mud, the blossoming blood from a gunshot seeping from his back.
    “Oh my God,” I said as I took a step back.
    Nick hung up the phone and glared at me. “I know you have a hard time thinking before you act, but next time you hear gunshots don’t run full speed ahead into the line of fire until I give you the all clear.”
    “You left me by myself in a room full of dead guys,” I screamed at him. “And besides, you ran full speed ahead into the line of fire.”
    “I’m a cop. I have a gun. That’s what I’m supposed to do,” he yelled back. “I can’t believe this. You’ve made me so crazy that I’m yelling in a graveyard.”
    “You feel bad about yelling in a graveyard after you just tried to have sex with me in a church?” I screeched.
    Nick closed his eyes and was obviously counting to ten many times over. “Listen to me, Addison. As soon as backup arrives I’m going to have an officer