I huffed out another big sigh.
“Face islookin’ good,” hemuttered, reading accurately from my sigh I was giving in.“How’re your ribs?”
“Healing,” I muttered back.
“Glad to hear it, Rosie.”
The snowy goodness was back in his eyes and a different kindof goodness was in his voice.
I needed to be careful.
“I can’t believe those cops just let you keep me pinned tothis railing,” I remarked.
“Cops aren’t big fans of a woman beat to shit by eightmotherfuckers,” he educated me.
“No one really is,” I educated him.
“They’re also not big fans of those women waltzing up to oneof the assholes who did that shit to have a futile conversation,” he shared.
“I didn’t know it was futile,” I told him.
“I did and they did and fortunately now so do you.”
I decided to shut up again.
“Colombo’sbein’ cool with you?”he asked.
I nodded.
“Baby?”he called.
“Mm?”I answered.
His thumb swept along my jaw.“Go home to your mom before Ilose the fight I gotgoin’ with the urge to take youhome with me.”
Man, I wanted to go home with him.
No you don’t!my mind screamed.Get ittogether, Rosalie!
“Maybe we should have coffee, Snapper.There might be a fewthings you need to get straight too.”
He shook his head, his thumb now drawing circles on thehinge of my jaw that caused reciprocal circles to be felt around both mynipples, and I started kicking myself I didn’t sprint to my car the minute hetold me to go home.
“Unh-unh, coffee’s off the table,” he declared.“You’resettled in, we’rehavin’ dinner.”
I then shookmyhead.“I’m not going out to dinnerwith my face like this.”
“I didn’t say we weregoin’ out.”
Uh-oh.
“Snap—”
“Go home.”
“Snap!”
He bent in, pressing his lips to mine.
