by JB Lynn
“Morning,” I muttered before I remembered I was pissed at him for rejecting me the night before.
I didn’t remember getting under a blanket, and I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I did remember him giving me the brush-off. I glared at him.
His expression was impossible to read as he stared at me. “Armani’s…companion left about fifteen minutes ago, so it should be safe for you to go back to your room.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” I groused.
“We need to talk about what happened last night.”
“I need a cup of coffee. Where’s God?”
“Sunning himself.” Patrick drew back the curtain to show me that the lizard was stretched out on the window ledge, watching the ocean.
“Close it,” I muttered, shielding my eyes from the bright sunlight streaming into the room.
He dropped the curtain. “You always so much fun in the morning?”
“Are you always such a dick at night?”
He winced. “I told you. We need to talk.”
“I thought he was a perfect gentleman,” God intoned from behind the curtain. “He let you have that giant bed and he slept on the floor.”
Patrick stared at the curtain. “He’s quite the chatterbox. He must like the sun.” Crossing the room he poured two cups of coffee. The man not only travelled with his own coffeemaker, but with his own cups. Two of them, which seemed to indicate he wasn’t in the habit of waking up alone.
Mulling over the information God had just shared, I watched the redhead’s efficient movements.
Leaving one cup on the dresser, he brought the other to me. He held it out and then took it back before I could take it from him. “First we talk.”
Placing the cup on the nightstand, he sat down on the bed beside me.
I tried to surreptitiously scoot away so that we wouldn’t come in contact. He observed my less-than-subtle mood with a mixture of amusement and frustration.
“How’d the game end?” I asked, determined not to let him control the conversation.
“Same way it did in ’99,” he said dryly.
We stared at each for a long moment in some kind of standoff I didn’t understand.
Finally, he leaned forward to speak, his voice husky with desire. “You make me want to break all the rules, Mags.”
Reaching out, he cupped my cheek tenderly. His touch sent ripples of sensation through my body, leaving me incapable of being angry with him. That left me with being confused.
“I thought,” I began awkwardly. “I thought you—“
He slid a finger over my lips to silence me. “I did. I do. But last night was not the time. You were still in shock from seeing O’Hara kill me…or try to kill me. You were vulnerable and not thinking straight.”
“He’s right,” God said.
And I knew he was. But it still sucked.
“We’re all wrong for each other, Mags,” Patrick said sadly.
I knew that he was trying to gently tell me that there’d never be a right time for us. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye.
He leaned forward and kissed it away. “We’re like two ships that pass in the night.”
I smiled weakly. “Seriously? You’re quoting Manilow songs now?”
Grinning, he handed me my coffee. “You’ve never seen the man perform. Trust me, after tonight you’ll get it.”
Standing up, he walked to the exit door. “When you’re done in here, hang the sign inside. I’ll see you at home.
He raised his hand and waved a sad good-bye as he walked out.
I stared at the door that had closed behind him.
God peeked at me from behind the curtain. “Are you okay?”
“We had the right love, at the wrong time.”
God and I both winced as Armani warbled from the other room.
“Can you take your time finishing your coffee?” God begged.
“You wanted to come along,” I reminded him yet again.
I didn’t see Patrick again in Atlantic City, but that wasn’t the last time I saw him.
Armani and I had a blast at the Manilow concert. (I’m pretty sure God, nestled between my breasts, wept during “Ships.”)
Not surprisingly my lottery ticket wasn’t a winner.
And the shark’s tooth? That actually proved pretty lucky….but to learn how, you’ll have to read THE HITWOMAN AND THE FAMILY JEWELS…
Author’s Note
Hi there,
I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it!
If you did, could you please, please, please take a moment to post a REVIEW and/or RECOMMEND it to your fellow readers.
Thanks so much!
JB
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Also by JB Lynn
HITWOMAN BOOKS IN ORDER
Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
Further Confessions of a Slightly Neurotic Hitwoman
The Hitwoman Gets Lucky
The Hitwoman and the Family Jewels
The Hitwoman and the Neurotic Witness
The Hitwoman Hunts a Ghost
The Hitwoman and the 7 Cops
The Hitwoman and the Poisoned Apple
The Hitwoman’s Downward Dog
The Hitwoman’s Act of Contrition
The Hitwoman Hires a Manny
The Hitwoman and the Sacrificial Lamb
The Hitwoman and the Chubby Cherub
The Hitwoman and the Mother Load
The Hitwoman Under Pressure
The Hitwoman Plays Chaperone
The Hitwoman Takes a Road Trip
The Hitwoman in a Pickle
The Hitwoman and the Gold Digger
THE MATCHMAKER MYSTERY SERIES
The Mutt and the Matchmaker
A Match Made in Mystery
Catnapped!
A Woof in Sheep’s Clothing
About JB Lynn
A Jersey Girl transplanted to the Sunshine State, JB (you can call her Jen) writes laugh-out-loud suspense and mysteries with a dash of romance, but she’s been known to dabble in the occasional goosebump-raising thriller.
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