Page 289 of Love Bites

“Natalie called.” She came down the last steps and handed me her cell phone.

Natalie’s number showed as a missed call. Damn. Guilt slammed into my gut like a battering ram.

“Where’s your phone?” Mona asked.

“It’s on the fritz.” After colliding with a pine tree and then crashing onto a boulder, I was experiencing a few technical difficulties. I handed her phone back. “I’ll call Nat later.” Much later—after I’d washed the smell of Doc off my hands and rinsed the taste of his skin from my tongue.

“You okay?” Mona asked. “You look …” she wiggled her fingers in the air around her face. “Flustered.”

Frustrated was more like it. My body wanted to finish what Doc started. “I’m fine, just thinking about Doc.”Naked.

“You think he’ll bite?” Mona asked.

I knew he would. I could still feel his teeth marks on my collar bone. I wanted a matching set on my inner thigh. However, about the house, I wasn’t so sure. “I hope so.”

I headed back to the kitchen where Doc stood leaning against the counter, his feathers all smoothed down and ruffle-free, his body looking finger-licking good.

I turned my focus to the state-of-the-art kitchen, marveling at the high-quality accoutrements along with Doc. Next, we admired the multi-level deck and manicured backyard through a pair of French doors, peeked into a granite-tiled three-quarter bathroom, and then made our way back into the living room, where Mona waited for us. Drinks sweated on a silver platter next to the sandwiches.

“So, Doc,” Mona said as I dropped onto the couch next to her and reached for my rum and Coke, needing it even more now than ever as guilt and desire arm wrestled in my belly. “What do you think of Deadwood summers?”

“It’s colder than where I grew up and warmer than where I came from last.”

I swished my drink, smiling. Nobody could dodge a question like Doc.

A half-hour later, Doc had charmed more of Mona’s life history out of her than I had in three months, and I had finally collected all of my wits and X-rated thoughts and tucked them safely back into my underwear. We thanked Mona for the tour, drinks, and appetizers, and then headed to the car.

“Well?” I asked as the Camaro rumbled to life, trying to remember I was still his Realtor first and foremost. Hashing out what happened in the back stairs could come later when I wasn’t just an arms-length away from reaching over and unbuckling his belt. “Did you like that one?”

“What wasn’t to like?” Doc shifted into gear. “What’s the asking price?”

When I told him, he didn’t flinch at all. Just nodded and steered toward Deadwood. I wasn’t sure if I should dance a jig at this point or not.

“Hey, can you stop in front of that rundown house up on the left for a minute?” I asked as the Hessler house loomed in the front windshield.

The night of Addy’s cast-fitting, I’d driven by Wolfgang’s place on the way home from the library and noticed a light on in the upstairs, violet-themed bedroom. I’d figured Wolfgang was in there, but later realized I hadn’t seen his car in the drive. The light was still on last night, when I purposely cruised by on my way home from Jeff’s. Again no car, no sign of life. Just the light, which made me wonder if I’d left it on when I was up there last week playing the creepy door game.

Doc parked in front of the rusted gate and looked at me, his brows raised behind his sunglasses.

“This is Wolfgang’s house,” I explained.

His jaw tightened. “A bit of a fixer-upper, I see.”

“Nothing a little paint and a lot of love couldn’t help.”

“Or just a lot of paint.”

“Right.” I grabbed the door handle. “You want to come in?”

“Why?”

Because I was too scaredy-pants to go inside on my own, even in broad daylight. “You could take a look around, admire the nineteenth-century details. You never know, maybe you’ll fall in love with it.” Especially the clowns. They were definite selling points.

“All right, let’s go.” He shut off the car. “Listen, Violet,” he said as he pushed open his door, “about what happened back there—”

“Not now, Doc,” I cut him off, avoiding eye contact. While I currently had a firm handle on my lust for the guy, my feelings about the whole shebang—or lack of shebang—still had my panties in a bit of a twist.

“Okay.” He shut his door. “But it can’t happen again.”

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