Page 32 of Special Agent Murphy

“I’m coming with you.”

“You’re getting checked. Your neck is red, there’s a cut and it looks sore.”

“I’ll get to it later. Right now, I want to hear the BS what’s-his-name has to say.”

A grin appeared and faded as fast. “What’s his name?”

“You forgot it? Alex. Alex Traver.”

“No. I didn’t forget it.” Murphy’s hands went to his pockets, and he leaned in close, eyes flashing. “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Did he roll his eyes? She could have sworn he did just that. A bit incensed, she gave him back what-for. “You just said what’s-his-name.”

“I was quoting you.”

“Oh…” Realizing that their conversation had sunk to a real low, she admitted, “That’s just a term I use sometimes. Like a thingamajig or a doohickey.”

First, he stared. And then his eyes lit with a sparkling glow, and he actually laughed. It was low and husky and the pleasure of hearing it traveled over her whole body to settle into her tummy where tiny butterflies were floating everywhere in a cloud of softness.

It was when he turned to continue down the hallway, muttering “Who’s on first? I don’t know’s on second,” that she caught on, and knew he was making fun of her.

Shouldn’t she mind? Trailing behind him, she decided she didn’t. In his own way, he was teasing, and she deserved it. Why the hell she shared that silliness with him, she had no freakin’ idea?

Besides him making her get the urge to use a restroom more than she’d ever figured would be possible, he also made her want to taste his mouth and take off her clothes.

Oh, my. What a mess!

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