“There has to be something wrong with him.”
“Yeah… He doesn’t live in Chicago.”
“He snores.”
“Nope.” Although she realized she’d never been awake while he was sleeping. “Actually, I’m not sure.”
“So that’s a maybe. He’s an early ejaculator.”
Kim laughed until her eyes got teary. “Oh my God… No. Definitely no.”
“Being good in bed is a challenge to him. He’s a womanizer who views sex like a sport—all technique and no heart.”
“He’s not the least bit detached. In fact, part of what I loved about sleeping with him was how into it he got. Like having sex with me was toe-curlingly, eye-rollingly good. As for beinga womanizer… Yes. Probably. He was going to screw somebody last night. I was just lucky enough that it ended up being me.”
“So, there’s another con—a pretty big one—right there. Does he talk about himself constantly?”
“He doesn’t talk about himself at all.”
Delia’s sloe eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Maybe he’s married.”
“Married to his job. Trust me, I know the type. I lived with two cops.”
“Self-centered? You had to spell things out for him to get yours.”
“He knew what I needed before I did. He noticed my goosebumps for chrissakes.” Kim shut the fridge door and returned to the island, curling her hands around the bullnose edge. “It’s going to sound corny, but it’s like he’s totally in tune with me. He knew when I was hot or cold. He knew where to touch me, how to touch me, how long to touch me… Jesus, I cried all over him about Janelle, and he didn’t freak out. He didn’t tell me everything was all right or ask me to stop crying. He didn’t go into another room or make noises about it being time for me to go.”
“Damn it.” Delia pouted. “That’s so not fair. I blew him off, and you reeled in Mr. Awesome Sauce.”
“I’d apologize, but I wouldn’t be sincere.”
Delia smiled. “I’m glad he’s not a serial killer.”
“Me, too.” Although he just might slay her when all was said and done. She’d been thinking about him all day, about things she wanted to do with him, places she wanted to take him, like her favorite pizza shop. And the Field Museum, where he could see the real lions fromThe Ghost and the Darkness.
“You’ve got bags under your eyes, Kimmy girl, but you look all happy and glowy. I’m really glad about that.”
“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,” she admitted, tidying up the countertop because she wanted Raze to like her place and feel comfortable in it. “A part of me thinks that’s stupid. I’m a mature, successful, professional woman. I shouldn’t have such a crazy mood boost over a guy I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours. But that’s the way it is. I needed him, and he was there.”
Delia tucked a strand of her chin-length hair behind her ear. “What will you do if you still need him after he’s gone?”
“I don’t know. I guess that’ll be up to him and whether he’d like to keep in touch or not.”
“When does he leave?”
Kim glanced at the digital clock on her stovetop. “Too soon, whenever it is. I have to get ready. He’s going to be here in an hour and a half.”
“You could convince him to keep in touch with you.” Sliding off the stool, Delia straightened the skirt of her flirty blue dress.
“I don’t think anyone can convince Raze of anything once he’s made up his mind.” Kim’s chest tightened at the thought of having even a tiny hold on Raze.
“Think about it. You’re not his type. He walked into that bar looking for a back-alley screw or something like it. Then you walked up and rocked his world, just like Roz said you would. He let you into his personal space, fed you, and took care of you. You’ve got him already, Kimmy. You can keep him if you want to.”
“If that’s true, why did you give me the third degree and say all that stuff about something being wrong with him?”
Delia grinned and pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe I’m just a teeny bit jealous. But mostly, I wanted to make sure you were thinking things through and not getting blindsided by a gorgeous, dangerous-looking man who’s a god in bed.”
“You suck. Thank you for caring.”
