by DK Herman
"No," he said spreading kisses on my face and neck. "If you want us to work, you need to give up playing detective. You could work for me. I always need help in the kitchen. Or you know how to bartend."
It was like he threw a bucket of cold water over me. "Go to hell!" I growled and walked out of the room.
I found Gabi at the makeshift bar. "Let's do a couple of shots," she said.
"Why not," I agreed. "Tequila with a beer back," I told the bartender. "Keep em coming."
I woke up with a hangover that would drop an ox. I squinted into my darkened bedroom, trying to remember how I got home. Damn it, where was my car? Bravely, I sat up and realized I was naked.
Snapping on a lamp, I reached for my robe.
"Oh, crap!" I said seeing the imprint of a head on the other pillow.
I tried to piece the night together. But the last thing I remembered, was doing the chicken dance with Gabi.
I started to feel sick. I'd never had a blackout before. Was someone in my bed last night?
"Tell me I didn't," I whispered when I heard the water in my shower turn off.
My bathroom door opened, and in the doorway stood a magnificent male in just a towel. His broad chest still damp from the shower, he was breathtaking. He smiled warmly and walked toward me.
“What… did … I… do?” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
“Good, you’re awake. Let’s finish what we started,” he said dropping the towel.
