Page 2 of Deadly Target
“Blue is great for bedrooms. With your west facing window in this room, I think you could get away with something bolder. Something a little more fiery.”
She liked things hot. With her Italian heritage and olive colored skin, she gravitated to dark reds, deep oranges, and gold. Today, she had on a brilliant yellow tank top under a flannel shirt that reminded him of the sun. Her worn jeans molded to her hips and disappeared into black leather boots with three-inch heels.
Maybe she’s the right color palette for what I need.
“What’s in the bag?” he asked, even though he didn’t care as long as she’d brought it.
“Cannolis. What else?” She laughed.
Cannolis and beer, what a combination. But that was Olivia—big smile, sexy laugh, and weird taste in food.
He took the six-pack and led her to the kitchen. Although he’d moved in weeks ago, boxes were stacked on the counters and floor. He’d managed to unpack a couple of plates, some glasses, and a plastic bag with disposable silverware. Rooting around for his bottle opener, he hoped the mess didn’t offend her.
“Aha.” He found the hammer-shaped opener and popped the lids off two beers.
Olivia accepted one, eyeing the novelty opener. “Why am I not surprised you have a tool that does double duty?”
“It was a housewarming gift from Cooper’s team. Apparently, they thought I’d be doing a lot of drinking while rehabbing the house.”
Olivia clinked her bottle against his and they drank. She cleared a spot on the table, set down her beer, and opened the bakery bag. As she drew out the cannolis, Victor tore off two paper towels, making plates out of them.
They ate in silence, Victor studying her under half-lidded eyes. She was sultry and beautiful. In direct contrast to the sunny tank top, she wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. She looked like the sexiest home-improvement contractor he’d ever seen.
She caught him staring at her ample cleavage and smirked as she licked cream from one end of the cannoli. Teasing.
That was all it took. He remembered the feel of her tongue on him, those lips scorching every bit of skin they’d touched. In that instant, his mind went back to that night and all they’d shared. He had no doubt that was her intention as she slowly bit into the pastry and grinned wider as she chewed.
Taz sat patiently at her feet, his big tongue hanging out the corner of his mouth. He’d been part of a dog fighting ring and had lost teeth before being rescued when Victor and his team had slipped in to arrest several of the participants. If there was one thing Victor hated, it was bullies and those who hurt others, human or animal. He’d made sure the dozen dogs received proper medical care and were taken to a no-kill shelter. Once Taz was on his feet again, the shelter’s manager asked him to foster the dog, who needed to work on his people skills and manners in order to be a better candidate for adoption.
Taz was obviously becoming quite adept at his people skills since he gave Olivia pleading puppy dog eyes, hoping for his own cannoli. A tiny bit of drool ran out the side of his mouth onto the floor.
Watching Olivia, Victor figured he wasn’t much different, although he hoped for something more than a bite of cannoli. Finishing his pastry, he checked the corners of his mouth to see if he’d been drooling himself.Maybe a little.
“So what color do you suggest for the kitchen?” he asked, trying to get his big brain back online.
“Hmm.” She glanced around, slipping the dog a piece of her cannoli. “Pumpkin, maybe, or squash.”
“Are we talking paint or food?”
“The woodwork is really beautiful. In here, with the lighter fir trim around the windows and on the cabinets, I think the best colors would be in the warm, fall category.”
She licked the ends of her fingers and toyed with her beer bottle.
Once again, the brain in his head had trouble focusing as the blood ran south. “Well, I don’t have either of those, nor anything fiery for the living room.”
“Guess that just leaves us one option, doesn’t it?” she asked, her dark eyes teasing.
Please, God, let her be thinking what I hope she is.
One of the things he’d loved about Liv from the start was the fact she didn’t beat around the bush. While she didn’t always come right out and say what was on her mind, he seemed to be able to read it anyway.
She had a few crumbs on her tank top. He leaned forward and teased them off the fabric, letting his fingertips brush against the bare skin above the soft cotton. “You seem to be the expert,” he said, tipping his face closer to hers. “So, unless we’re making a trip to the hardware store, it looks like we’re painting my bedroom this afternoon.”
Her breath hitched, those piercing eyes searching his face. He caught the scent of beer and chocolate on her breath. “Do you have all the tools you need?”
I have you.“Maybe you should check my toolbox and see.”
“That’s a terrible pickup line.” She laughed, low and sexy. “Totally cheesy.”
