He lifted me off my feet. “Following orders.”
“Wha— Put me down. This is not a good idea.”
“This is not a bad idea.”
“I’ll barf on you.”
“I’m washable.”
“I can make you put me down.”
He had been walking toward his truck this entire time, and despite myself, all my muscles were relaxing into him. The scent of his cologne—something with coconut in it—wrapped around me, and all I wanted to do was put my head on his shoulder and sleep for a year.
“I know you can make me,” he said calmly. Then he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Out of the two of you right now, I’m more afraid of your sister.”
“Don’t argue with him,” Myra called out as she opened the cruiser door. “He’ll take you home.”
“He’s not even our employee,” I said.
“Yet,” he added.
“See you in the morning, Delaney,” she said. “If you show up before nine, I’ll duct-tape you to the cot.”
“I think she’s serious,” he said, stopping at the passenger side of the truck.
Myra got in the cruiser and started the engine.
“She is.” I sighed. “Put me down. There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”
“True.” He somehow got the passenger door open without dropping me. “You have very nice legs. But your sister was clear with her instructions.”
“Which were?”
“Not to let your feet touch ground until you’re at your house.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
He gave me a grin. Then, with far too much ease, he tossed me gently into the front seat of his truck.
“Almost like you’ve done that before.”
He shrugged. “I am a man of many talents. At your service.” He gave me a slight bow then shut the door in my face.
I watched him saunter around the front of the truck, the rain-shattered light catching at the hard edge of his profile and wide shoulders. He looked good in his skin. Confident in who he was, confident in his place in the world. In his goals. It was sexy the way he moved, shoulders and hips shifting with controlled power. Very male. It made me wonder how he would move on a dance floor. Or in bed.
“So, Officer Reed.” He settled in the front seat and started the engine. “My place or yours?”
“Mine?”
He glanced over at me, the cool light of the street lamp doing amazing things to his eyes, his mouth. And when he bit his bottom lip, tugging before he smiled, something that felt like butterflies fluttered across my stomach. I shivered.
“You don’t sound too sure of that. And there are a million steps up to your place. There’s nothing but an easy path to mine.”
“You know what they say about taking the path of least resistance.”
“Leads to temptation?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I have hot cocoa.”
I closed my eyes and pressed cold fingertips over my lids. “I totally set myself up for that, didn’t I?’
