Page 22 of Chasing Kaylee Kringle

Suddenly, a warm front pressed against her back, and an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her inside.

“No, she won’t,” Rick said, slamming the door in Benny’s face.

When Kaylee got over her shock, she stomped on his foot and spun around, scowling at him. “Why did you say that?”

“Because you were giving him false hope when you weren’t interested.”

“I never said I wasn’t interested!”

“You didn’t have to. It was in your tone, your body language.” Kaylee realized his hand was still on her waist when he squeezed it, bringing her closer. “For instance, if you were attracted to him, your breathing would have changed, or your heart would have picked up speed when he asked you to go out with him.”

“Just because I don’t pant like a dog doesn’t mean I don’t like someone!” She hated the breathless edge to her voice and hoped like hell he wouldn’t think it was because his hand was burning through her shirt, lighting her skin on fire.

“It’s everything. When a woman wants us, we can sense it. It’s in the way she leans in when we talk or how her eyes flare wide when we touch her. Or maybe, she even weaves a little, like she’s going to fall into our arms at any moment.”

Kaylee snorted. “You sound like an idiot. Women don’t swoon over men in real life.”

“Ah, well—” He leaned in close, and for a second, she thought he was going to kiss her. Breath hitching, her eyes fluttered against her will until she realized he’d swiped the bags of food from her hands with a grin.

“I guess it’s a good thing tacos make everything better, hmm?”

Kaylee leaned against the door, watching him walk away, still holding the cupholder with their drinks. How had he completely flummoxed and enraged her simultaneously? When she recovered enough to stomp into the kitchen after him, he was sitting at the table, taking a large bite out of a tiny street taco. His tall frame was hunched over the food, but his presence took over the space, her space.

“Can I have my soda?” he asked, grabbing a napkin from inside the bag and wiping his mouth with it.

Kaylee set the drink carrier down at the center of the table and picked up his soda and straw, tempted to squeeze hard enough to bust the contents of the Styrofoam cup all over his lap. As if reading her thoughts, he leaned back in his chair, taunting her.

“If you throw that in my face, I will handcuff you to the sink while I shower.”

“There’s nowhere to hook the cuffs in my bathroom,” she countered.

“Then I’ll handcuff your hands and sit you in the corner to think about what you’ve done.”

Kaylee slammed his cup down, a little disappointed that it didn’t crack. “You don’t scare me.”

Rick seemed taken aback. “I’m not trying to scare you, Kaylee. I’m just stating facts.”

“Well, the fact is, you can’t keep me here, so I am taking my drink and my food, and I am going to my friend’s house.”

“Great,” Rick said, getting up from the chair. “I’d love to meet her.”

“No, you are not coming. If you want to be a superspy, you can watch from the window. She lives right next door.”

“I told you, I’m not letting you out of my—”

“Sight, yes, I know. This way, you can keep your little oath to yourself, and I can catch my breath because having you here, in my house, suffocating me, makes me want to do unspeakable things to you.”

Rick grinned. “Really? That’s highly inappropriate, Kaylee. I’m FBI, and you’re my witness.”

Kaylee’s face burned. “Not. Like. That.” The words scraped out through gritted teeth, and she took a deep breath, trying to rein in her temper. “I mean that I want to hit you with a frying pan!”

“I see a couple handy, but I don’t recommend it. I’ve got a hard head, so I’ll probably live.”

Kaylee spluttered. “I can’t with you.” She stomped toward the front of the house and grabbed her coat, haphazardly tossing it over her shoulders like a cape.

“Don’t worry, Kaylee,” he called after her, “I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Chapter Twelve