Page 56 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

“Mouth,” said Faye as she launched into action, grabbing a towel near the sink and hurrying toward the end of the counter. “Really, sweetheart, where are those animal-like reflexes you have?”

Jeffrey stood there with a dumbfounded expression. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Mom. I swear someone or something tripped me.”

“Sure, go with that and not the fact you’re obsessed with Stratton,” said Dana with a groan.

Peggy de-toweled Faye on the way past. She whistled at me, pulling me from my shocked stupor. “Star Child, wet this with cold water. Then wring it out.”

She tossed the towel at me. I nearly missed catching it, my gaze returning to the cop.

He was still staring at me in a way that left me wondering if I was the one who had coffee all over the front of me. His royal blue gaze roamed down me and I actually double-checked to be sure I didn’t have anything on me.

I didn’t.

As he raked his gaze upward again, my body heated.

He’s the police. Pick a different guy to find hot,I thought.

My body didn’t seem to care what my brain had to say. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done the dirty. Sex didn’t really rank on my priority list. Surviving day to day did. But the longer I stared at the cop, the more I was reconsidering my priorities. Currently, sex sounded great.

“When you’re done gawking at him, how about you help him clean up the mess Jeffrey caused,” said Peggy.

Jeffrey grunted. “I already said that I didn’t do it. I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to. I swear, something tripped me.”

Cringing, I glanced over my shoulder at Torid, who was now trying to pretend he had nothing to do with the fiasco. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his freakishly long feet before strolling casually over to stand behind a gentleman who was seated at one of the comfy leather chairs, reading a newspaper.

Torid acted as if he were completely engrossed in the article as well as he leaned over the man, staring intently at the paper. If he thought he was fooling anyone, he was wrong. He was in trouble with me, and he knew it. There would be no bowls of ice cream for him tonight. He was getting canned stew. Nothing more.

I grunted, shaking my head, fully planning on scolding Torid the first chance I got. Neither of us were fans of law enforcement, especially with our history, but he’d gone too far. He’d also basically ensured I was on the detective’s radar—somewhere I didn’t want to be.

I finished wringing out the towel and rushed around Faye to Peggy. I attempted to hand off the damp towel to her.

Peggy motioned to Stratton. “Something tells meyoushould handle this.”

“Me?” I asked, stunned. “You’re the retired army nurse.”

“If he should happen to sustain a war injury in the next five minutes, I’ll be sure to take over,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“He could be burned,” I countered.

She lifted a brow. “Stratton, were you burned?”

“No,” he said, his deep voice making my breath catch.

I looked around for Torid, making sure he was far from Stratton because he could more than cause a war injury in five minutes. He was still pretending to be innocent while he avoided eye contact with me.

Smart goblin.

With a grunt, I went around the end of the counter, toward Stratton, as I kept glaring at Torid. “Stupid. I can’t believe you did that. So much for keeping a low profile. Sure. Dump coffee on the cop. Just take out a full-page ad why don’t you?”

I was so busy muttering under my breath at Torid that I didn’t pay a lot of attention to exactly how close to Stratton I’d gotten. As he caught my wrist, sending heat through my arm once more, I gasped, realizing I was pretty much toe to toe with him.

He stood well over six feet. He had one of those bodies that you’d see high-paid actors with. Not too bulky but toned. Perfect. Normally, I tended to prefer men with long hair, lots of tattoos, and a nod to the grunge style that was popular back in the ’90s. This guy was the polar opposite of that.

Stratton’s brown hair was short on the sides and back and only slightly longer on top. It was gelled just right and looked like he probably spent a lot on haircuts. Everything about him said he was incredibly put together and liked things a certain way, unlike me.

I was anything but together. I was a walking mess. Someone who had managed to make it to her early forties and still not have her life in order.

His blue gaze locked on me as his hand remained around my wrist, holding me gently. “Hi.”

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