“I think that’s our cue,” Janice stage-whispered to Jill.
“Our cue was when he unceremoniously shoved us out the door.” Jill frowned ferociously, trying to intimidate him.
Thing was, Wolf wasn’t easily intimidated.
This apparently pleased Jill, because her expression melted into a smile. Pinching his cheek as if he were a toddler instead of a full-grown man who towered over her by at least five inches, she told him, “Good man. You planning on hanging around to help her today?”
“I need to run a quick errand,” he admitted. “After that, I’ll be on hand until she kicks me out.”
“Which might be sooner rather than later if you keep treating my guests this way!” Chrissy groused from the middle of the living room, where she stood with her legs spread and one hand planted firmly on her hip, Wonder Woman style.
All she was missing was the cape.
And the armored bustier.
She would lookamazingin an armored bustier.
“You know”—Jill peered around Wolf’s shoulder—“a smart woman knows to accept a helping hand when it’s extended her way. Especially when it’s such ahandsomehelping hand.”
“Thank you, Jill,” he whispered conspiratorially. “That’s whatItold her.”
Jill gave him a wink then cupped her friends’ elbows in her palms. “Come on, gals. Our work here is done, and we’ve got businesses to run.”
Wolf gave Officer Ryan a two-finger salute when he stuck his head out the door. He waited until the ladies had made it safely down the porch steps before ducking back inside and closing out the world beyond. When he turned, it was to see Chrissy puffed up like the peacocks his grandmother kept in the front yard of her farmhouse for bug control.
Sighing deeply, he readied himself to receive a good old-fashioned tongue-lashing. But all the fight suddenly drained out of her, and her shoulders drooped like they were weighed down by sixty-ton Abrams tanks.
“I feel like a can of smashed assholes,” she admitted weakly. Her eyes got huge when he’d marched over and grabbed her hand. “What are you doing?”
“I’m takin’ you to bed.” He ignored the thrill he got from saying those words.
Before he got any deeper into her—and heaven help him, he was already inwayover his head—he had to figure out what her not wanting to fall in love meant.
Part of him wondered if it was simply self-preservation, a knee-jerk response to all the heartache she’d seen her mother suffer. But another part of him knew she had the stubbornness of a mule, and if she’d convinced herself she wasn’t going to fall in love, shewouldn’t.
Could he settle for that? Find contentment there?
Let’s say he convinced her to take a chance on him. Let’s say it was five years down the road and they were married, shared a house, and had a few kids. Would he be satisfied with the thought that if he gave her the life she wanted, if he walked beside her as her friend and confidant and lover, her love for him would grow? Like mushrooms in the dirt? Moss on a stone? Slime on a swamp log?
Hell no!I’ve waited thirty-four years for the right woman to come along, and I want the whole kit and caboodle!
He wanted hot and heavy. He wanted wicked and wonderful. He wanted that heady rush of two people tumbling together, head over heels, and then catching each other before they hit the ground.
He wanted moonlit walks on the beach followed by sweaty lovemaking between the sheets. He wanted candlelight and roses. He wanted picnics and sunsets. He wanted to pull her behind a tree in a crowded park and kiss her senseless because he couldn’t stand another moment without having his lips on hers. He wanted her to roll her eyes at having to watchanothercop show, but snuggle in next to him on the sofa all the same.
He wanted his own true love story, damnit!
And yet, as he dragged her down the hall, her hand nestled so perfectly inside his, he couldn’t help thinking he might be plumb crazy to consider anything that didn’t get himherin the end.
“I need a bath.” Her voice was heavy with exhaustion.
“What you need is sleep.”
“Fine.” She sighed and he would swear he could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck. “So Iwanta bath. Is that okay with you? Is me wanting a bath enough?”
A brief image of her naked, skin all rosy and slick from the water, skated through his mind. It was followed by a sudden heaviness behind his fly.
He wasn’t a complete creep, so he ignored both things as he changed direction, pulling her into the small bathroom with its vanity, tub/shower combo, and floor tiles in pretty greens and blues that reminded him of sea glass. “Sit down before you fall down.” He pointed to the closed toilet lid.
