Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  “Yeah, her agent and that Fritz guy again. You’d best watch him. He’s coming on hard and heavy.”

  Like you were? He wanted to ask but didn’t.

  “Oh, Sue’s mom came over.” Danny frowned. “I probably should ask for her dog’s hand in marriage. I had more intimate contact with that dog than I’ve had with women in the past six months.”

  Jason laughed then realized how silly his worries had been about Danny. “Sorry about my wisecrack when I came in. Long day.”

  Danny’s smile faded. “Don’t worry about it.” His gaze shot back to Sue’s house. “However, for the record, if you’re stupid enough to let this girl go, I’ll be here on her doorstep.”

  Jason flinched. Okay, maybe he hadn’t been so silly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Danny met his gaze. “It means you go through girls like popcorn. For once, try not to screw things up.”

  The younger cop didn’t stay around to hear what Jason thought of his statement. It was a good thing, too. Letting out a sigh of frustration, Jason went to tell Sue about Paul Everts’s shooter. She wasn’t going to like it.

  Sue wasn’t in the living room. He found her sitting Indian-style on the study floor, petting his cat and kittens.

  “They doing okay?” He sat down beside her, and the scent of her shampoo tempted him to move closer.

  “Fine.” She stroked a finger over a kitten. “Hitchcock came in here this morning. Mama needs to get her shots.”

  Silence followed. Sue was being quiet again.

  “Did you eat?”

  “Yeah, but there’s another pizza in the oven. Danny said you liked it all the way.” She still hadn’t looked at him.

  “I do. Thanks.”

  Taking a chance, Jason brushed a strand of hair from Sue’s face. When she didn’t push him away, he leaned over and pressed his lips to her cheek. She closed her eyes, and he ran two fingers under her chin to turn her face to his. Her lids opened. He gazed into her blue eyes, giving her every chance to pull away before he brushed his lips against hers. She didn’t pull away.

  He tasted her mouth, which was a little salty like pepper-oni, a little malty like beer, and a lot of something natural that was Sue. Slipping his tongue between her lips he decided to hell with the pizza. To hell with talking about the damn foot doctor, too.

  He brought her closer, and he heard her speak. Or rather, heard her try to speak.

  “Yum go tut op.” The mangled words seeped out the corner of her mouth.

  He pulled back and brushed a finger over her lips. “You’re talking again when I’m kissing you,” he teased.

  “I said you had to stop.” Obviously not in a teasing mood, she rose and shot toward the door.

  “Is something wrong?” he called.

  “Wrong?” Sue replied over her shoulder, fleeing. “What could be wrong?”

  She continued down the hall, heard Jason’s footsteps behind her, and quickened her pace. As she darted past the coffee table, she snatched up the pizza box and took off for the kitchen. Slamming her foot on the lever to open the trash, she crunched the box into the garbage. Wrong? A knot tightened her throat. She had a wide array of “wrongs.”

  There was her mama’s you-might-want-wine announcement about wanting to marry Elvis. Sue would be stepdaughter to The King of Fruit Salesmen. Oh, and guess what? He wanted to take them all on a vacation to celebrate the engagement—a vacation to Graceland!

  No way, Jose. Not in this lifetime.

  And then there was Jason. Jason who hadn’t called her all day. Not once. However…a few months ago, he’d taken the time to research every piece of information on the Internet about her. What did that mean?

  Hearing him come closer, she hustled into the kitchen, picked up a sponge and attacked the counters.

  She felt him staring at her.

  “Okay,” he said. “Spill it.”

  She looked at him. “Spill what?”

  “What ever it is that’s making you clean countertops that don’t need cleaning. When Maggie takes a sponge to clean counters, I’m usually about to get an earful.”

  Tossing the sponge in the sink, she started out of the kitchen. He grabbed her around the waist, swooped her up, and sat her down on the clean, freshly wiped and wet granite. “What’s wrong?” He tilted her chin up to look at him. “Talk.” He smiled. “I’ll bet if I kiss you, you’ll start talking.” He leaned in.

  “No!” She felt the counter’s dampness seep into her jeans.

  He pulled back. “Then tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I used your laptop today.” She studied his reaction.

  He stared at her. “And?”

  “And I just happened to stumble across a list of your favorite websites.”

  He didn’t look concerned. “And?”

  “And I just happened to notice that ten out of twelve were about me.”

  “And that’s a problem because…” He motioned with his hands for her to finish his statement.

  “It’s weird.”

  “Weird? I read your books. Your books listed your website. I checked out your website, and then I checked out the links listed.” He stepped back. “Isn’t that why they’re posted? To get people to read about you?”

  “But you bookmarked them. And you had to have Googled me.”

  “Since when did Googling become a crime?”

  Okay, now she felt as if she’d overreacted. Had she? She tried to think clearly. All of a sudden, every fear, every doubt she’d had about Jason Dodd came barreling back to her. If she hadn’t been good enough for him four months ago, why was she good enough for him now? And if she wasn’t good enough for him, why was he checking up on her on-line?

  “But…but you could have asked me anything, talked to me and gotten that information from me personally. And you didn’t. You didn’t even come to my autographings.”

  The words rolled out of her and she decided to just let them flow. “You didn’t give me the time of day until four months ago, and then you followed me outside on the patio and kissed me senseless. And then you asked for my phone number and…and never called.”

  He wrapped his hands around her waist. “I called you last night…and the night before. Don’t those phone calls count?”

  “You didn’t call me today.” She bit her tongue, hating that she sounded like a jealous girlfriend who’d been ignored. She wasn’t his girlfriend, wasn’t jealous. So why had she spent a good portion of the day envisioning Jason on the arm of some other woman?

  She had almost been relieved when Benny called to say Jason had been by. At least she’d known he hadn’t completely forgotten about her.

  “I was working on the case,” he offered.

  “Yes, my case. And you don’t call and tell me anything. Do you think I don’t care?” Okay, that sounded legit.

  He leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. “You’re right. I should have called. I’m sorry.” He moved flush against the counter until his waist fit between her inner thighs, until she had a close-up view of the heat simmering in his dark blue irises.

  “Forgive me.” The palms of his hands glided down over her hips to palm the tops of her thighs. He inched them lower on her legs and ever so slowly moved them up again. His thumbs came dangerously close to the V between her legs.

  Sue’s breath caught. Every muscle in her body clenched, including the muscles that created liquid warmth between her thighs. She managed to put her hands on top of his and push. She only moved them an inch, but her gesture sent the message. He removed them.

  She studied him. “Did you bring my computer home?”

  “It’s not finished yet, but I spoke with Bob.” When he saw her shift to get down, he caught her and helped.

  “And?” she asked, stepping out of his hold around her waist.

  “And we now know that someone broke into your files, but we can’t trace it.” Jason turned around to the oven. He opened the door, pulled out a slice of pizza and sank h
is teeth into it. “Thank you,” he said, gesturing.

  Sue drew out a plate and handed it to him. “Paul is doing better. They think he’s going to make it now.”

  Jason dropped the pizza on the plate. “You called and checked on him?” He appeared annoyed.

  “Chase called for me, after I called him. My investigator ran off.” She offered him a beer from the fridge.

  “I didn’t run off. I was chasing leads!” he argued. He motioned for her to set the beer down.

  Sue remembered another reason why she was upset, more things to add to her gone-wrong list. “Does working this case include accusing my friends of trying to hurt me? Calling—”

  “That reminds me,” he interrupted. His voice had changed to a deeper tone. “Why did you tell Fritz I was coming?”

  “I told everyone in my critique group. They’re my friends. I don’t believe any of them did this, and I couldn’t let you show up accusing them and think I suspected them.”

  “This Fritz guy wants to be a lot more than your friend, and I’m not so sure he isn’t behind this. But I’ll give you credit, the other two seem completely innocent.”

  “Benny just misses his wife.” Sue picked up the beer she’d gotten Jason, opened it, and took a sip. “And he didn’t do this. Neither did Melissa, and she said you called and accused her of setting all this up.” Sue shot Jason another hard look. “And my editor called Melissa wanting to know about the cop who was calling and leaving messages. You can’t go messing with my editor. That man has my career in his hands.”

  “All I wanted to do was ask a few questions about the assistant editor and the art guy, both who gave you the creeps. As for Melissa…she’s still a suspect.”

  Sue shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. Those people are thousands of miles away. How could it be them trying to break into my house and following us around in a gold Saturn? Most people up east don’t even drive.”

  “It’s only a four-hour flight. And some Yankees drive. They just suck at it.”

  “Wait!” Sue held up her hand. “What happened to the theory that this was Paul’s wife who was behind all this? That she shot Paul for the same reason?”

  Jason frowned. “Well, that doesn’t seem likely now.”

  “Why?”

  He took the beer from her and had a long sip. “I interviewed her this morning.”

  “What? You interviewed her and didn’t even call me?” She squared her shoulders, truly peeved. “Did it occur to you that I might like to hear?”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.”

  Something about his expression said there was more. “And now you are?”

  “Yes.” He hesitated. “The detective assigned to Paul’s shooting just called me before I came here.”

  “What happened?”

  He took another long pull of beer. “Paul came to. He remembered who shot him.”

  Air hinged in Sue’s lungs. “Who?”

  He took his sweet time answering. “He said…his girlfriend.”

  That air came out of her lungs. “I did not shoot Paul!”

  “His other girlfriend.”

  “Other…girlfriend?” Did she want to know?

  Jason seemed a bit embarrassed to explain. “The doctor was a very busy man. It seems he was dating two different nurses at his office. One of the nurses didn’t appreciate it.”

  “He was cheating on me?” Sue asked. “With two people?”

  Jason picked up his plate and half-grinned. “Three, if you count the wife.”

  “Ohhh!” She started pacing. “How long before I can shoot him?”

  He laughed for real. “Let’s give him a few days.”

  Sue paced over to her breakfast table, slid down into a chair, and dropped her forehead on the table. Winners. Every man she felt an ounce of attraction for was a real winner.

  Then she remembered she was attracted to Jason. Majorly attracted. Was he going to be an exception to the rule, or was he going to prove once again that she had a real knack for picking top-notch scum?

  She shook her head and tried to get her head around what was important. “So, Paul getting shot has nothing to do with me or what’s going on with me, right?”

  Jason moved in. “It appears that way. We’re going to look closely at the nurses, but it doesn’t seem connected.”

  “Which means,” she realized, “we don’t have a clue who’s doing this.” It was a major downside.

  “We’re still looking.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “For starters, I tried to contact your ex-husband—”

  Speaking of top-notch scum…

  “No!” Sue jumped up. “And let me say it one more time, just in case you didn’t get it. No.”

  “No, what?” Jason asked.

  “No, you are not going to contact my ex.”

  “You said your ex was a computer engineer. That means he knows how to work on computers, which means he would know how to break into your files.”

  “I don’t care if he knows how to sprout wings and fly backward while doing the funky chicken. Leave Collin out of this!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Jason lowered the manuscript pages he held to peek at Sue. They sat at opposite ends of the sofa, reading. He read Sue’s new book and had her cat in his lap; Sue read Fritz’s manuscript, occasionally scribbling something in the margins. The box of chocolate lay open on the coffee table before them. It was damn good chocolate—not hundred-dollar good, but almost. Sue had been grateful for the gift, and it had won him a smile. The smile was worth a hundred dollars, especially after she’d gotten so angry about him trying to contact her ex. In the end, Jason had agreed not to contact him unless they ran out of suspects. Needless to say, her outburst had given Jason something to think about. What had her ex done to her?

  Hitchcock moved from his lap to Sue’s. Jason finished chapter three and looked up to watch Sue shift to accommodate her feline. He wondered if she’d accommodate him.

  Her red bra strap slipped down her shoulder. A red bra? He envisioned it came with matching pan ties. Staring at her bare shoulder, his body began to throb.

  Sue looked up, and their eyes met. Jason set his pages down and picked up a piece of chocolate. He took a small bite; then, moving next to her, he placed the sweet morsel to her mouth. When she opened, he tucked the truffle inside and then kissed her.

  The taste of Sue and chocolate sent him reeling. The fact that she was the first to slip her tongue into his mouth sent a flood of hope to his chest. Followed by some serious blood flow down south.

  He pushed Fritz’s manuscript off her lap, at the same time sending Sue’s manuscripts pages raining to the floor. Unconcerned, he tucked his arm behind her and leaned her back on the sofa. Keeping most of his weight on his elbows, he settled atop her. Their bodies met in all the right places.

  She arched up against him, a slow deliberate brush, and his body screamed to start shedding the layers of their clothes. But his head said he’d better not move too fast. Instead, he concentrated on their kiss. Using his tongue, he swirled the melting chocolate around her mouth.

  Her fingers came around his back, then slipped into his hair. He moved his lips to the curve of her neck and traced a path of dampness to her shoulder. Encouraged by her response, he slid his hand beneath the red tank top. Her flat abdomen felt soft, firm, and he risked moving a bit higher. When the tips of his fingers touched the satin of her bra, he moaned.

  The pebbled hardness of her nipple pressed against the slick material, and he rubbed his fingers over the tightness as the aroused skin grew tighter, harder. And he grew harder along with her. She sighed.

  Thinking about how good her nipple had felt against his tongue, he pulled his hand away, capturing her red tank top and whisking it up and off, over her head. She let him. He soon gazed down at her red bra, her taut nipples straining against the flimsy material.

  “You are so beautiful.”

&
nbsp; He moved back to her lips, savoring the passion and chocolate as he moved his fingers to her breast. Her hips shifted upward again, more demanding. Her boldness gave him permission to let his own hips press against hers.

  Moving his lower body, he rubbed the hardness between his legs against the softness between hers. In high school, he’d heard this referred to as dry humping. Right now, he referred to it as heaven. A dress rehearsal to making love.

  Her hips rose to meet his. Their bodies met, hungry for the contact. But as good as it felt, Jason wanted so much more.

  He wanted to be inside her. He wanted her naked, him naked. He wanted to move his kisses down her, wanted to make her come with his tongue.

  He leaned in for one more kiss before he started shedding clothes. She arched her sweet little pelvis up again. Held the contact.

  “Om thin op oving.” Her mangled words buried beneath his kiss sent pain straight to his groin.

  “No.” But he broke the kiss and waited to hear her say it.

  “Something’s moving.” She stared down at where their bodies met.

  He blinked as her words sank in. Or they tried to sink in.

  His gaze caught on the bulge in his jeans, then shot back at her. “Er, you don’t like it when it moves?”

  A smile lit up her eyes. “I think it’s your phone.”

  “Oh.” He felt the vibration in his front pocket then. “Ignore it.” He went back in for a kiss.

  She dodged his lips. “No.”

  He dropped his face into the crook of her shoulder and moaned. “No, what?”

  “I’m sorry. You probably think I’m just a…I didn’t mean to let this happen again.”

  “What if I beg?” His phone stopped vibrating. He let his body rest against hers again.

  She chuckled. “I’d love to see that, but it won’t work.” She brushed his hair from his forehead. “I’m really sorry.”

  He stared into her blue gaze and, in spite of being sexually frustrated to the hilt, he couldn’t be mad at her. She hadn’t started this; he had. “So, basically, my cell phone has ruined my sex life.”

  Her smile took his breath away. “It’s vibrating again. Are you going to answer it?”