Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“What is so funny?” I demanded.
“Not your knees, but I did bowl you over.”
Once again, she made me laugh. Which pissed me off. I didn’t want to like her. I wanted to ignore her. That had been my plan—yet I was finding it hard to do so. She was unexpectedly likable. Appealing, even.
I pushed her off me, rising to my feet. Grudgingly, I held out my hand and helped her to stand, noticing a grimace.
I immediately became concerned. “Did I hurt you?” I asked, running my hands over her arms, inspecting for an injury.
“No. My back is still a little sore from yesterday.”
“Let me look at it.”
I was surprised when she turned and unclipped her overalls, letting them drop, and I knew she had to be in pain. I had to take a deep breath before lifting her T-shirt. “Jesus,” I muttered. “You’re black and blue.”
“The window was heavy.”
I felt an odd rush of tenderness flow through me as I checked out the area. “No more breaking and entering.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice breathless.
“And no more building heavy cupboards. You’re aggravating the injury. Mark will help with the counter.”
“All right.”
I ran my fingers over the marks, feeling my own breathing pick up as I touched her silky skin. “I have cream that would help this.”
“Um…”
“I’ll get it. Stay there.”
I headed to my place, grabbing the cream and already shaking my head.
Why did it bother me that she was hurt? She was the one who had climbed through the window. Built the cupboards. I shouldn’t care, really.
Yet, a small part of me did.
Back at her place, I carefully rubbed the topical pain cream into the skin, wincing as she gasped a little. I hated hurting her. My fingers lingered on her back, softly massaging. “This should take away the pain,” I murmured.
“Thank you.” She stepped away and pulled down her shirt, reaching over her shoulder for her overall straps. I handed them to her, and she snapped them into place as she turned, meeting my eyes. Something passed between us. Something intimate. Warm. Real.
Then Mark walked in, carrying coffee and a bag. “Hey, look at the progress!” He stopped. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”
I stepped away. “Nope.” I held out my hand for the tray. “I hope there are sandwiches in that bag.”
“You know it.”
Casey walked into the living room, and I heard the front door open and her SUV start.
Oddly, I felt the loss of her presence the entire afternoon.
My phone rang just as I got out of the shower, and I answered quickly.
“Chief.”
“Thorne, sorry to bother you, but we have a situation on our hands.”
“Oh?”
“Sanders cooked last night.”
I grimaced even though he couldn’t see me. “Oh shit.”
“Shit is right. Half the guys are crapping their drawers every five minutes. The other half didn’t eat.”
“How can I help?”
“I need you back from days off tonight. I’ll add extra time to next week.”
I scrubbed my face, somehow not shocked the last of my plans for my downtime got kiboshed. First Casey, now Sanders.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“One other problem.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to leave Miller at home. The new recruit is allergic to dogs, and I need him around. You have someone to look after him, right?”
I didn’t bother reminding the chief that Lou used to take him. I could ask my neighbor across the street to look after him—they had done so a couple of times. “Sure.”
I hung up, yanking on my uniform, grateful I kept one at home. It would save me time when I got to the station in case we had to go out. I looked across the street, frowning when I saw both cars were missing. Then I remembered they were gone for an extended holiday. I cursed as I put on my shoes, already knowing my only option resided next door.
I grabbed my bag, making sure I had everything I needed for the next few days, and threw it in the truck. I went to the back door and knocked, waiting until Casey opened it.
“Well, well, he can knock,” she greeted me. She had changed at some point, now wearing shorts. Shorts that were far too short. Her T-shirt was tied at her waist, showing skin, and her hair was up with pieces of it falling around her face and neck. She was artlessly sexy.
Dammit.
I drew in a long breath for patience. “Hello.”
She opened the door wider. “You want to come in?”
I stepped inside, the change of clothing making sense. Her new counters were covered in tarps, the cupboard doors lying flat and being painted. I had to admit, the color was nice. But I wasn’t there to discuss design choices.
“I have a favor to ask,” I began.
“Sure.”
I frowned. “Sure? As in okay? You haven’t even heard what it is yet. I could be asking you anything.”