Page 92 of Over the Edge

Doing her best to think pleasant thoughts about the holidaydinner tomorrow at Madeleine’s, she preheated her second oven, mixed together the crust ingredients, rolled out the dough, and fitted it into a pie pan. After crimping the edges, she pricked the bottom all over with a fork and brushed it with an egg wash.

No doubt Madeleine already had someone lined up to bring a pumpkin pie, but was it ever possible to have too much pie? And Thanksgiving was all about leftovers anyway, so—

Ding dong.

Lindsey’s heart lurched.

Had Jack decided to take her up on her invitation?

Wiping her hands down her apron, she hurried toward the front door and peeked through the peephole.

The blue-eyed detective stood on the other side, wind ruffling his hair, cheeks ruddy from the cold.

Her pulse tripped into double time.

He must be interested after all.

Or perhaps he’d found a piece of evidence to validate her claim about Sunday’s attack.

Either would be welcome news.

Taking a calming breath, she opened the door.

The corners of his mouth rose. “Is the hot chocolate offer still valid?”

“Of course. No expiration.” She moved back to allow him to enter. When a gust of wind followed him inside, she closed the door behind him. Fast. “Did you find anything?”

“No. I didn’t really expect to, but hope springs eternal. I considered doing a second pass, but after the wind picked up and the temperature dropped, I had hot chocolate on my mind.”

“I’ll have it ready in a jiffy. May I take your coat?”

“Thanks.” He shrugged it off and handed it over.

Lindsey opened the coat closet in the foyer, inhaling the faint, masculine scent emanating from the cold fabric as she slipped the jacket onto a hanger.

Whew.

She took longer than necessary fitting the garment into the closet, giving her cheeks a chance to cool down.

When she turned back, his killer smile remained in place. “It smells good in here.”

Yeah, it did.

But he must be referring to the aromas wafting from the kitchen.

“Cheesecake’s baking.”

His eyebrows peaked. “Cheesecake for Thanksgiving?”

“I take it you’re a pumpkin pie traditionalist?”

“Guilty as charged. But I like cheesecake too.”

“This one has an Oreo crust and chunks of Oreos inside.”

“Sold. I’d forfeit pumpkin pie for that any day.”

“I could save you a piece.” Now where had that come from? It sounded like she was angling for another excuse to see him.

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