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Chinchilla and the Devil

Page 5

by C. D. Gorri


  Tony listened with Sofia standing a little too close for comfort. The fresh flower scent of her was driving his devil wild, and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him. By the time Maude was finished explaining, Tony was ready to start on the case.

  “Okay, I assume fingerprints are a no given the amount of grease, food, and mud everywhere. The perp must have come in through that door after traipsing through the field out back. Said perp then grabbed his or her loot after the morning staff had already gone on their break, but before the lunch staff came in.”

  “Don’t you mean perps?” Questioned Sofia.

  “Nope, I mean perp.”

  “I don’t see how one shifter could eat over three hundred meatballs.”

  “You never met my cousin Sammy. Besides, these are meatless meatballs, right?” Tony couldn’t suppress a shudder.

  The only question as far as he was concerned was why a shifter would ever eat a meatless meatball anyway. His Nonna would have had his furry red hide if he’d claimed any other meatball superior to her own authentic Neapolitan recipe.

  “You know, those of us with animal sides leaning towards the herbivorous persuasion rather enjoy meatless meatballs, above burgers, and all sorts of yummy plant-based protein!”

  “That’s because you never had the real thing, doll,” he returned.

  The object of Tony’s affections was sexy as all hell when she was angry. Tony smirked and gave her a slow, seductive wink as he crouched down to inspect a set of footprints.

  “Well?” The curvy petite woman crouched next to him, and he had to bite his lip to stop from growling aloud. She smelled damn good and was a tad bit distracting to his inner devil.

  “Do you know who it is?” She asked.

  “I can certainly find out.”

  “That’s great!”

  “I said I could find out, not I would find out,” he said and stood up, ready to turn away.

  Tony took his time, brushing off his pants and fixing his shirt. He knew from the moment he saw her she’d never let him leave like that. It was why he did it. Provocation could be a very valuable thing in his line of work.

  Right then, Tony needed access to FUCN’A’s records. Afterwards, he’d find the meatball bandit and maybe get a date in the process. It had been a while since he flexed those particular muscles, and he’d never met a woman more tempting than the priss little miss in front of him.

  He needed her to scratch his back if he was gonna scratch hers, metaphorically speaking. He only hoped she’d offer the real thing too. And soon.

  Growl.

  11

  “Excuse me,” Sofia growled.

  She could not believe this guy. Who the heck did he think he was with his longish hair in that sexy little ponytail? Not to mention eyes so dark and deep, they seemed to look right through her clothes.

  Yikes. Was it getting warm in here? Where did that thought come from anyway? And why did her panties moisten the second she’d had it?

  This is what happens when you don’t date, she grumbled to herself.

  No way. She was not going to get all hot and bothered by this gold chain wearing goodfella with his tight black pants and shirt. Was it even legal to wear clothes that fit so perfectly?

  He must have his own tailor for such sublime lines. The inky dark fabric seemed to mold to his body. Okay, she must be losing her grip on reality. Was it hunger? She did skip breakfast, and lunch too, it would seem. Sofia checked her cell phone. It was now after two o’clock, and from the looks of things, she wouldn’t be getting her meatless meatball fix for quite a while now.

  Sigh. Still, hungry or not, she couldn’t help but admire the curve of the stranger’s spectacularly muscled ass in his form-fitting pants. She watched as he stopped and sniffed around the open fridge door before closing it. She moved right behind him.

  “Excuse me.” His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. He touched her elbow, sending sparks of awareness shooting through her entire body.

  “Ooh!”

  In her haste to put some distance between herself and the tall, dark, handsome newcomer, Sofia forgot to watch out for the muddy footprints on the floor. She felt herself lose traction and braced for impact. Just as she began to tip, her world went topsy-turvy. Sofia opened one eye, then the other, surprised to find herself a lot higher off the ground than normal.

  “Easy.” His growly voice seemed to vibrate through her body as he pulled her tight to his chest.

  Her hands grasped his shoulders, and she noted they were even wider than she’d thought. The rumble coming from him was soothing as it was arousing, and that spelled trouble.

  “I think you should put me down,” she said, knowing full well she was being a shrew, but she didn’t care. Self-preservation was big in her family. It was a big bad world full of sharp-teethed predators out there. She might not be able to tell what kind of shifter he was, but she didn’t need specifics to know that he was dangerous.

  “I think I like you right here,” he responded. “After all, doll face, if not for my swift reflexes, you’d be on the floor.”

  “Cocky much?”

  “If the shoe fits,” he shrugged.

  Of all the maddening men in the world, why did he have to stroll into her crime scene and sweep her off her feet? Literally.

  “Look, I’m not in danger of slipping again, okay?”

  The stranger held her just a beat longer than necessary before he allowed her to slide down his body. His tremendously muscled body. She felt every tantalizing ripple and delightful bump, including one impressive bulge just south of his belt buckle.

  She cleared her throat and backed up a step. Even though her feet now touched solid ground, she felt as if she were soaring with the way his dark eyes held hers. No man should have eyes like that. His lashes were thicker and longer than any other person’s she’d ever seen. Black pupils gave way to impossible dark irises, but every now and then, she swore they seemed to glow red.

  Maybe he let her go all too soon. Maybe she wanted his hands back on her body, that secret wild part of her seemed to whisper in her ear. Sofia shook her head. Every survival instinct she had was screaming at her to get away from the exasperating male.

  “Okay, doll, I’ll be heading out now,” he said and walked to the sink where he rolled up his sleeves.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like?” He countered and wiggled his fingers. She noticed mud on the one hand and was surprised as he started to wash them both under steaming water.

  “Look, if you have information about this, this meatball marauder, it is only fair you give it to me,” she began.

  “Now, why would I do a thing like that, doll face?”

  “Because it’s the right, uh, thing to do,” Sofia began.

  She couldn’t help but stare at the way he tended to each of his long fingers as he washed them with a hefty dollop of antimicrobial soap in one of the several deep sinks that lined one wall in the professional kitchen.

  He was so careful and thorough, bathing each one of his digits until they were free and clear of even the most minuscule speck of dust. Suddenly, she felt a pang of longing. It started somewhere in her heart and ended in her girly bits.

  Gulp. Would he be as attentive with a lover? Would those suave looking fingers cradle and caress each dimple and curve as carefully as he’d washed the mud from his own hands?

  Okay Sofia, take a chill pill and relax. The stranger had insight and information that she needed. That was the only thing about him that interested her. Nothing else.

  Liar.

  “Excuse me.” He leaned over and took a paper towel from the roll that was hanging past her shoulder.

  Once again, he came close, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body as the spicy male scent of him invaded her nostrils. He smirked as if he knew what he was doing to her and turned around, swinging his jacket over his shoulder before walking away.

  Wow. He smelled re
ally good. Like good good. She was barely able to conceal the shiver that threatened to rack her small though admittedly plump frame. Imagine such a reaction from nothing more than his being near her? What was wrong with her?

  It didn’t matter. As an employee of FUCN’A, it was her job to find out who was responsible for the crime of breaking into the cafeteria and stealing the meatless meatballs. She was not about to let this stranger walk away with any information that might help her solve it.

  “Hey! I’m talking to you,” she said and hurried to catch up with his long stride.

  “What’s that, doll face?”

  “My name is Sofia Pelosi.”

  “Tony Leeds at your service, doll fa–”

  “Don’t call me doll face.”

  “Alright. You don’t like doll face? You just had to say so, mi pasticcino.” He smiled, and despite the blatant male chauvinism, she felt as though she’d been hit in the stomach.

  Arousal, powerful and instantaneous swept over her, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her chinchilla squeaked and chittered, causing Sofia to gasp audibly.

  Oh shit. I think I just met my mate.

  12

  Sofia’s inner chinchilla was running the gambit inside of her, the silly little creature had already gone belly up and starry-eyed at the slick stranger’s sly teasing. She was drooling to inch closer to the…the, er, whatever he was.

  Furry little traitor! Her stomach growled loudly, and the man she was chasing halted. He turned and eyed her with one dark, perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Taking her by the elbow, he steered her through the door.

  “Come on, you need to eat.” He seemed so determined to feed her. Almost as if it were a biological imperative of some sort. Must be more of that male macho nonsense he’d exhibited earlier. It didn’t matter. She could handle him and her bizarre attraction.

  “Yes, well, I did come down here to eat, but it seems someone walked away with my lunch. Look, I need to find out who has been stealing from the cafeteria, so if you can help me–” she began.

  “Okay, we can talk about that in a little bit, but first we eat,” he said and readjusted his firm, yet gentle grip on her elbow. He led her through the cafeteria to an empty table for two.

  “Hey,” Tammy called from the doorway. “Uh, you good?” Sofia noted how her friend’s eyes widened as she looked between her coworker and the sexy man loading a pile of veggies onto her plate.

  She hardly registered the fact that he was carrying them to the omelet station and smiling at the cook there while rolling up his sleeves and moving behind the burners, frying pan at the ready.

  “Sof? I asked you if we can start letting cadets in?” Tammy queried.

  “Uh–” Sofia’s mind was mush.

  The tall, dark, and handsome stranger began stirring eggs in a bowl. Next, he added a dollop of olive oil to the bottom of the pan. Then he added the cut-up veggies. Lastly, he poured the egg mixture into the pan of sautéing vegetables and topped them both with handfuls of shredded cheese. The result smelled heavenly.

  “Sure, let them in, but hang a sign that says, ‘no meatballs today’ and no one goes into the kitchen,” he answered.

  It seemed he was able to talk with the adoring young chef whose baby blues were starting to irritate Sofia, while taking in her conversation with Tammy. All while he cooked them lunch.

  Holy crap! A man who can multi-task. Miracles do exist, she thought, and nodded to Tammy, who went back to take care of the cashier and cadets. Five minutes later, she was seated across from the stranger with the most succulent omelet she’d ever sniffed right in front of her. He’d even prepared a side of avocado toast and sliced tomatoes.

  “So, let’s talk terms,” he said as he plopped one slice of cherry red tomato into his mouth. “Sofia, that’s a great name, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Aren’t you gonna try it?” He gestured towards her food, and she dropped her fork clumsily. Okay, it was official; her brain was no longer working.

  “Um, yes, yes, thanks,” she murmured and bit into a piece of toast.

  Holy heavenly avocado goodness! Sofia practically purred in appreciation of the savory concoction the good-looking stranger had whipped together in a matter of minutes.

  Thick cut, toasted rye bread with slices of ripe avocado, a thin strip of red onion underneath, finely chopped cilantro, sprinkled with sea salt and a dash of fresh lime juice on top.

  Sofia liked food. As was evident in her ample hips and soft belly. But she was no cook. Ordering out was her specialty, but she sure could get used to this. A sexy man who knew his way around a kitchen.

  Yes, please.

  “Good?” He asked.

  “Um, yes, it’s fine.” She dropped the toast as if it burnt her and tried her best to downplay her reaction to him.

  “Look, baby, we’re going to have to work after this so you might as well eat up now. Mangia,” he commanded.

  “It’s Sofia, and what can I call you?”

  “You can call me anything you want, doll face, as long as you call me.” He winked, and his face broke out into that thousand-watt smile of his.

  Sofia huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes at him. Clearly, he was trying to annoy her. Funny thing was, she didn’t feel annoyed. In fact, she found herself grinning back at him.

  “Seriously though, my name is Tony. Tony Leeds, top PRIC at your service.” He extended his hand, and Sofia shook it briefly, unwilling to entertain thoughts of why the slightest touch sent electrical shocks racing down her spine and more disturbingly, straight to her girly parts.

  13

  “I’m sorry.” She choked on a bite of red bell pepper as she finally registered what he’d said. “Did you say you were a prick?”

  “No.” He scowled at her.

  “Sorry.” Not sorry.

  “Look doll fa–, I mean, Sofia.” There was that wink again, if only it didn’t make her insides tremble. “I said I’m a PRIC. That is, I work for PRIC, Private Resourceful Investigative Contractors. PRIC for short. Can you please pass me the water?”

  She nodded. His accent was delightful to her ears. Short sounded more like shawt. Water like watah. His complete dismissal of any and all rules of grammar and pronunciation had her dying to know what he’d say next.

  It was kind of hot in an action movie star kind of way. Lord knows she was a huge fan of Die Hard. Best Christmas movie evah.

  “Who is your boss? Where are you located?”

  “Did you just ask me to tell you where to find PRIC’s head?”

  “Tony,” she warned, but his face held only innocence.

  “That’s confidential, doll face, but I can tell you we’re based out of the northeastern USA.” He offered her a bite of his sliced watermelon. Without thinking about it, Sofa leaned over and took it right off his fork.

  “Oofa! You don’t know what you do to me when you do things like that.” His heated stare made her cheeks warm, and Sofia quickly swallowed the refreshing bite of fruit.

  “Uh, don’t change the subject. I still want to know how you being a PRIC helps me find the meatball bandit.”

  “Here’s the deal, Sofia.” He emphasized her name and offered her another bite of fruit to which she shook her head. “You get me access to your database, and I will nab your meatball bandit by the end of the day tomorrow.”

  “Are you nuts?” She hissed and slapped the table, knocking her fork from her plate, but of course, Tony snatched it from the air before it could hit the floor.

  “You are a feisty one.” He nodded approvingly and returned the fork to her. “I like it.”

  She should’ve kicked him for that but found herself warming at his words. Was it wrong to want attention from a handsome man? Even if he was trying to get her to violate every work ethic she’d ever had. Maybe she should kick him?

  Well, if he didn’t have such eloquent table manners, she would have. As it was, he’d cooked for her and used a knife, fork, and napkin wit
hout prejudice. He’d even cleared the table without asking her for any help. Afterwards, Tony walked over to her and offered a moist towelette.

  Most of the guys she knew burped and licked their fingers, but even with the bits of food he appropriately ate with his hands, Tony Leeds seemed perfectly elegant and dignified.

  What kind of shifter was he anyway? Her little chinchilla nose tried to sift through the delicious scents coming off of him, but she was stumped as to identify what class, family, or order he belonged to.

  He smelled like a combination of deep, smoky campfire and bright, peppery arugula. She so loved that refreshing green in her salads or wilted in a bowl of fresh chickpea pasta with cherry tomatoes and garlic.

  Yum.

  Okay, if she was being honest, she’d admit everything about Tony Leeds was yummy. Especially the way his devilish eyes seemed to sparkle with interest every time he looked at her.

  It wasn’t often fit sexy men like him eyed her curvy figure with such obvious lust. Sofia felt herself grow warm at the prospect. When was the last time she’d had sex anyway? Too damn long, that was for sure.

  She knew her face would be a deep strawberry red by the time his eyes reached hers once more, but she couldn’t do anything to stop her embarrassed blush.

  Quelling the desire to run away and hide, Sofia tried for professionalism once more. After all, her career meant a lot to her. This was as close to being an actual FUC agent as she would get. Yes, she wanted to see more action, but she’d never be an actual agent.

  Chinchilla’s weren’t exactly fierce and battle-ready, but it was nice to dream. Imagine being a real FUC and finding that special someone to work cases with! It was her dream. Just like a certain infamous and high-ranking bunny and her bear shifter mate.

  Sigh. Miranda and Chase were legends around FUCN’A. Sofia didn’t expect to reach their status, but a girl could hope. She’d managed a conversation or two with the super-energized bunny herself and was in complete awe of the woman. Even motherhood hadn’t slowed her down.

 

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