Ihum a Christmas song under my breath and plate up a stack of pancakes for each of us, scrounging through Anna’s fridge in search of fresh berries and whipped cream on the side. There’s no music to dance to, none except for the tunes I hear in my head, but I bop and prepare our breakfast, swinging my hips and, every now and then, I catch Anna’s delicious dark eyes locked onto my body.
She can’t help herself.
And the fact she can’t is hella entertaining.
“What’s all that?” I use my bad arm, even though I’m not supposed to, and arrange blueberries in the shape of a smiley face on top of Anna’s pancake stack. Tipping my chin toward the file box she unpacks on the counter, I spy words. Names. Big, important people with big, important crimes they’d like not to be sent to prison for.Probably. “What kind of law do you practice, anyway?”
“My office handles myriad cases.” She pulls out a stool,dragging the metal legs along her tile floor. Plopping her ass on top, she nibbles on her pinky nail and scours her paperwork.
Nice non-answer, Counselor. They teach you how to do that at band camp?
“You had no belongings with you last night. No backpack. No spare clothes.” She hits me with a bored stare. “You claim you’re traveling for a work thing, but you have no luggage?”
Chuckling, I shake the can of cream and give her pancake man a thick mane of hair. “I rarely carry luggage when I’m jogging, Your Honor. No further questions.” Setting the can down, I slide her plate across the counter and grin. “Eat.”
“Where were you headed?” She ignores her breakfast and goes back to scouring paperwork. “What town is this supposed tournament taking place?”
“Can’t tell you that.” I drizzle syrup onto my pancakes, then squeeze a line of cream on top of that. I don’t bother with the fruit or presentation. Instead, I roll the topmost pancake into a tube and take a hefty bite. “Tournament folks had us sign forms prohibiting us from divulging such information.” I cock my hip against the counter and swipe cream from the corner of my lips. “As a lawyer, I’m certain you respect the importance of an ironclad NDA.”
Narrowing her eyes, she brings her fiery stare back across and burns me where I stand. “You wanna stay in my home? I demand to know where you were going.”
“Objection.” I take another bite and flash a messy, food-filled smile. “Sustained. All the words. Do I make them as sexy as you do, Counselor?”
“Listen, Dean?—”
Tires crackle across gravel and come to a stop outside herhome, then an engine cuts out and a car door creaks open. Closed.
Anxious, Anna’s eyes swing toward the front of her house. Then back to me.
I dart through her kitchen and stride into the living room, the sound of a crashing stool echoing around to tap my back.
“Dean!” She chases me on frantic feet, skids past me on the smooth wood floors, then crashes against the door, plastering her back to the solid wood. “Stop,” she pants, her chest lifting and falling after her twenty-foot sprint. “Don’t you dare.”
“But, Sissy! You have a guest.” I hip-bump her aside and wrench the door open, revealing Detective Dipstick on the other side.
He’s too smiley. Too happy. Too fucking comfortable.
Until his eyes meet mine, that is. Then his happiness falters and his hand lowers to his hip.
It’s a reflex, after all.
“Detective James.” I palm Anna’s face and push her back so she can’t greet the prick before I get a chance. “Damn, dude. You watch every neighborhood this closely, or is my baby sister just lucky like that?”
“Uh…” His eyes sink to my exposed chest. My stomach. My low-hung jeans. “I was here to talk to Anna, actually.” Displeased with what he sees, his brows pinch into a mean scowl. “I have a little sister, too, ya know?”
“Yeah?” I brace my hand on the doorframe and lift my foot, gently pressing it to Anna’s belly to hold her back. From Detective Dum Dum’s point of view, I probably just appear… wiggly. “Are you offering, or…?”
His knuckles glow white, his digits wrapped around his gun like he’s gonna start popping a motherfucker.
I guess he’s not offering.
“Just thinking about how Idon’thang around her living room without a shirt.” Drawing a deep breath, he works through the departmentally assigned shrink’s advice of calming the fuck down before his roid rage gets him in trouble. “You and Anna are pretty close, huh?”
“Not as close as I’d like to be.” I drop my foot and catch her against my side, wrapping my good arm around her shoulders and pressing a noisy, obnoxious kiss against the top of her angry red head. “Sissy.” I set my fingers under her jaw and tilt until I’m treated to an unobstructed view of her fiery eyes. “Your friend has come back to visit. Isn’t that nice?”
Her breath races. Her heart thrums. Her entire body works hard after our one-sided sparring session. But like Detective Dipstick, she fills her lungs and claws her psyche back from the ledge of rage. Finally, she brings her focus across to Carter and forces a fake smile. “Hi. You’re back?”
“Yeah… I was hoping to talk to you.” Nervous, he drops his gaze and toes the old wooden porch.He’s a pussy.“Alone.”
