Page 6 of Hot & Bothered

“Do you always do this when you get home?” she asked with concern as she slowly followed him into his apartment.

“No.”

“Then …”

“Something about that guy,” he said plainly, unable to shake the weird feeling coursing through him. “It was probably nothing, but I got a weird vibe from him.”

“He’s not a neighbor?”

He shook his head, went to the fridge, and grabbed a beer. “No. At least not one I recognize. And I’ve made a point of getting to know nearly everyone.”

He offered the beer to her, but she shook her head. “No, thank you. Perhaps the guy was just visiting friends. ItisChristmas Eve, after all.”

“Yeah …” He wandered over to a small console table against the wall, which was where he kept his harder liquor. “Night cap?”

“I’ll have a gin on ice, please.”

His head bobbed, and he went to work getting her her drink. Once they both had their libations, he followed her to the big floor-to-ceiling windows in his living room that looked out onto the city and his peak-a-boo view of the harbor. “Your view is probably better, eh?”

There was a smile in her voice when she answered. “Maybe a little.”

He finished his beer and set the bottle down on his coffee table, then stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and slowly sliding the faux fur shawl down over her arms until it slid to the floor. She’d removed his coat upon entering his place and draped it over the arm of his couch. His lips pressed against her warm shoulder. “I didn’t mean to spook you. And I certainly didn’t mean to sour the mood. But I understand if you’d rather I just walk you home.”

Since it was night out, he could see her reaction in the window’s reflection. She glanced down at her gin before taking a sip, then lifted her gaze, pinning it on him in the reflection. “When is your birthday?”

He definitely wasn’t expecting her to say that.

He liked her unpredictability.

As a man who liked predictability and consistency, who gravitated toward calm and peace rather than chaos and unrest, he normally preferred to know what was coming. But he also liked a little spice in his life, a little excitement—albeit benign excitement. As the voice of reason and the peacekeeper in his family, he’d considered, for a time, going into law—specifically mediation. That was until he found his true calling, which was the RCMP or Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

“October third,” he said, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. “Why? When’s yours?”

It was impossible to miss the flare in her eyes when he told her his birthday, or the soft parting of her lips and the quiet sudden inhale. “You’re a Libra,” she whispered.

Jace frowned. “Guess so. Is that a problem?”

She shook her head and her smile grew big. “Not. At. All.”

“No?” Spinning her around, he took her glass from her, which was empty, and set it down on his coffee table before looping his arms around her waist. “And why is that?”

“Because I’m a Gemini and our signs areverycompatible. It also makes total sense why you’re a police officer.”

“It does, does it?”

“Mhmm.” Her arms traveled up around his neck. “You’re a peacekeeper. You prefer harmony and justice. Have a strong moral compass and deep compassion.”

Well, hot damn. He’d never really believed in any of the astrological mumbo jumbo, but so far, everything she was saying about his starsign was right.

There had to be a catch, though.

For every positive trait, there had to be a negative one, too.

He waited for the other shoe to drop.

“And Venus rules you in the seventh house. I only know this because my dad’s birthday is October ninth”

Okay, he had absolutely no idea what that meant. Venus ruled in his seventh house? It sounded like another language.

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