“I’ll be back before the bread is finished baking,” Michelle quickly finished, leaving Samantha to assume she’d imagined the momentary weirdness.
“And dessert?” Christian asked, scooting to the edge of the sofa. If he’d been a dog, his ears would’ve perked up. “Did you make any of your legendary tiramisu? Please say yes.”
“If you eat any more sweets,” BKI’s secretary said as she clomped down the metal stairs from the second floor, “all your teeth will rot out of your head.”
“Speaking of sweets,” Christian mumbled beneath his breath, “here comes the icing on the crappy cake that is this day.”
“What’s that?” Emily stepped from the last tread to stand in front of Christian, hands on hips.
“Nothing,” Christian grumbled.
“Didn’t sound like nothing.”
“Why don’t you bugger off and bother someone else?” Christian glared up at Emily. “How does that sound?”
The challenge in Emily’s voice was unmistakable. “You mean on a scale of one to…uh…one?”
Samantha decided that was her cue to leave. She’d only seen Emily and Christian interact once before, and that time, she’d been surprised when neither of them walked away bloody. Setting aside the bag of peas, she pushed up from the sofa to make her way to Ozzie. Michelle headed for the door, and Becky gave her a nod before walking toward the back of the shop.
“Those two should just do it already and get it over with,” Ozzie mumbled once she’d made it to his side.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Emily and Christian? Is that their problem?”
And on the subject of two people who should do it already…
Of course, she didn’t dare say that aloud. Instead, she turned her attention to the bike. A tow truck had delivered the carcass while she’d still been answering questions at the precinct. She winced when she let her eyes wander over the mangled mess.
Ozzie was saying something more about the Brit and BKI’s secretary, but Samantha interrupted him, needing to get something off her chest. “Ozzie…” She touched his arm, marveling at the toughness of his flesh and the sheer warmth of his skin beneath her palm. He flinched like her fingers burned. She was left to curl her hands dejectedly into fists. “I’m so sorry about…about…” She couldn’t finish the sentence, just motioned with her head toward the ruined motorcycle. “She was so beautiful. I know how much she meant to you, and I just want to say—”
“Know the great thing about working in a custom bike shop?” he asked.
She blinked at the interruption. “Um, no?”
“We fix bikes.” He grinned and winked.
She barely resisted shaking her fist at the sky. There he stood, looking like a bad boy but being a nice guy. He was so stinking…perfect.
“Stop it.” She frowned up at him. Way up at him.
Has he always been this tall?
“Stop what?” He cocked his head, and a lock of shaggy blond hair fell over his eyebrow.
She dug her nails into her palms to keep from pushing it back. Because then, you know, whoopsie! Her hand might accidentally slip around the back of his neck so she could draw his head down for a kiss.
“Being so damned nice all the time,” she grumbled. “You should be giving me what for. Telling me I should never have left your side to take that call. Berating me for not paying better attention to my surroundings. Yelling at me to—”
The words strangled in her throat, because he touched her. He finally touched her! His long, strong fingers wrapped around her upper arm. Since she’d shed her jacket and was wearing a sleeveless silk blouse, they were skin to skin. She could feel his rough calluses, and the nerves in her arm seemed to activate one by one until her whole right side thrummed with sensation.
Then he released her, and the momentary joy was quickly tamped down.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told her. “Who would have thought that dipshit Basilisk would snatch you off a busy street in broad daylight? Dude obviously has way more balls than brains.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Emily called from her spot by the sofa, proving she could eavesdrop and argue with Christian at the same time. “But Christian’s made a career of that woeful combination!”
Christian sputtered, and then the two of them were swiping at each other again.
Samantha ignored them. “And there you go again. Being all nice.”
