Page 61 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
He smiles and pulls on his jacket, the detective one with the shoulder holster that makes women weak and ex-wives nervous. Then crosses the room to me. Right when I think he’s going to kiss me again, he takes my hand in his and brings the mug to his mouth and take a large sip, then moves us in unison to set it on the counter.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Then he kisses me. Like, kisses the fuck out of me. As in leaves me dizzy and breathless when he’s finished and takes a step back to look at me, “I’ve got something I need to deal with. I’ll call when I can. Try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.”
That’s an odd thing for him to say.
I grab my mug back for something to hold on to. “I’m hosting a Tupperware party later.”
He pauses at the door. “Please tell me that’s code for something naughty.”
I wink. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He laughs and leaves.
And I just stand there, mug in hand, watching the door close behind him, wondering if I’m going to have to get a whole lot more careful... or a whole lot more creative.
Kiki V-T lifts her head from the dog bed with a judgmental snort. Same, girl. Same.
When Amy lets herself in fifteen minutes later, she’s carrying a takeout bag, a gas station bag, and enough manic energy to power a small village. Her hair’s damp from the shower, she’s wearing a shirt that says, “Dead Inside but Caffeinated,” and her eyes are bright with excitement when she says, “I know exactly what we need to do!”
thirty
. . .
Noah
FIVE MINUTES EARLIER
Elle’s lips are still on mine when the phone in my back pocket vibrates at the same time hers rings. For a second, I think about ignoring it. For once in my life, I want to let the world burn and just keep kissing her.
“Ignore it,” she groans into my mouth.
Fuck that’s hot.
“Not mine, baby. I think it’s yours.” I smile.
“Still ignore it,” she mumbles peppering kisses around my mouth.
But habit dies hard, and cop instinct is stronger than lust, even if barely.
“Could be the kids,” I say, taking a step back. Happy to let the blame lie with her just this once instead of me.
She blinks up at me, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, utterly fuck-able and hands down the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. She drops her legs to the floor, stomps over to her phone and grabs it with a huff. I follow and shamelessly look over her shoulder.
AMY: WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME? ARE YOU DEAD TOO?
AMY: Your kids are fine, btw.
“Who’s dead?” I ask.
“No one!” She slams her phone face down on the counter. God, she’s so fucking cute when she thinks she’s being stealthy. I can’t help but fuck with her.
“Aren’t you going to answer her?”
“Yes.” She rolls her eyes and leaves the room.
My phone buzzes again. Persistent. Urgent.
