She glared up at him and didn't say anything. "I was in Lansing," he snarled, bending down so close his nose nearly touched hers. "Interviewing for a state job."
"You don't owe me any explanations."
He straightened and looked skyward, as if seeking help from the Almighty. She decided to give an inch. "All right, so a phone call wouldn't have been too pushy." He said something under his breath. She had a good idea what it was, but unfortunately, he wasn't paying out money for every cuss word. If he had been, she would have hit the jackpot. She grabbed his ears, pulled his head down, and kissed him. Just like that he had her pinned to the wall, his arms so tight around her she could barely breathe, but breathing wasn't number one on her list of priorities right then. Feeling him against her, tasting him – that was important. His pistol was on his belt, so she knew that wasn't what was prodding her in the stomach. She wiggled against it just to make certain. Nope, definitely not a pistol.
He was breathing hard when he lifted his head. "You pick the damnedest places," he said, looking around. "I pick? I was in there minding my own business, doing a little grocery shopping, when I was attacked by not one but two maniacs – "
"Don't you like kids?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Don't you like kids? You wanted me to kill that one."
"I like most kids," she said impatiently, "but I didn't like that one. He poked me in the ribs."
"I'm poking you in the stomach."
She gave him a sweet smile, one that made him shudder. "Yeah, but you aren't using a plastic laser gun."
"Let's get out of here," he said, looking desperate, and hustled her to her car.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Do you want coffee?" Jaine asked as she unlocked the kitchen door and led him inside. "Or iced tea?" she added, thinking a tall, cool glass would be just the ticket right now, with the scorching heat outside.
"Tea," he said, ruining her image of cops living on coffee and doughnuts. He was looking around her kitchen. "How is it you've only lived here a couple of weeks and this place already looks more lived-in than mine?" She pretended to consider the matter. "I believe it's called unpacking."
He looked up at the ceiling. "I missed this?" he muttered at the plaster, still seeking enlightenment.
Jaine sneaked several glances at him as she got two glasses from the cabinet and filled them with ice. Her blood was zinging through her veins, the way it always did when she was around, whether from anger or exhilaration or lust, or a combination of all three. Confined by her cozy kitchen, he seemed even bigger, his shoulders filling the doorway and his size dwarfing her small, made-for-four table with the inlaid ceramic tile top.
"What kind of state job were you interviewing for?"
"State police, field detective division."
Taking the pitcher of tea from the refrigerator, she poured the two glasses full. "Lemon?"
"No, just straight." He took the glass from her, his fingers brushing hers. That was enough to make her nipples pucker and stand at attention. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth. "Congratulations," he said.
She blinked at him. "Have I done something?" She hoped he wasn't referring to all the publicity over the List – oh, God, the List. She had forgotten about it. Had he read the entire thing? Of course he had.
"You haven't cussed once, and we've been together half an hour. You didn't even swear when I dragged you out of the supermarket."
"Really?" She smiled, pleased with herself. Maybe having to pay all those fines was working on her subconscious. She was still thinking a lot of swear words, but the fines didn't kick in unless she said them out loud. Progress was being made.
He tilted the glass up and drank. She watched, mesmerized, as his strong throat worked. She struggled with a violent urge to tear his clothes off. What was wrong with her? She had watched men drink all her life, and it had never before affected her like this, not even with any of her three ex-fiancés.
"More?" she asked when he drained the glass and set it down.
"No, thanks." That hot, dark gaze went over her, settled on her breasts. "You look extra spiffy today. Anything special going on?"
She wasn't going to avoid the subject, no matter how touchy it was. "We had an interview for Good Morning America this morning – at four A.M. if you can believe it! I had to get up at two," she complained, "and I've been comatose most of the day."
"The List is getting that much publicity?" he asked, surprised. "I'm afraid so," she said morosely, sitting down at the table. He didn't sit down across from her, but took the chair beside her. "I tracked it down on the Web. It was funny stuff – Ms. C." She gaped at him. "How did you know?" she demanded. He snorted. "Like I wouldn't recognize your smart-ass mouth even in print. 'Anything over eight is strictly for show-and-tell'," he quoted at her.
"I might have known you'd remember only the sex stuff."
"Sex is much on my mind these days. And just for the record – I don't have anything for show-and-tell." If he didn't, he hadn't missed it by much, Jaine thought, remembering with great fondness how he had looked in profile.
He continued, "I'm just happy I'm not in the point-and- laugh category."
Jaine shrieked with laughter and threw herself back in the chair so hard it tipped her out onto the floor. She sat there holding her ribs, which had pretty much stopped aching but now decided to resume at such rough treatment, but she couldn't stop laughing. BooBoo cautiously approached, but decided he didn't want to get within touching distance and instead sought refuge under Sam's chair.