Janet Evanovich - Full Bloom

"I have to go in," she said. She gathered the afghan more tightly around her shoulders and made to get up.

"That's too bad," he said, "because I like looking at you in the moonlight."

His voice was as smooth as the velvet spread that covered her bed, and his lazy-as-a-river smile tugged at her innards. The man knew what he was doing.

"Okay, Wes, listen up," she said, still trying to keep things light between them so he wouldn't know he was getting to her. "I believe in saying it like it is."

"I like that about you."

"Um, thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

He was trying to sweet-talk her; that's what he was doing. He'd probably sweet-talked his way into more than one woman's heart and bed, but not this one. No sirree. She had his number, could see right through him. Wes Bridges had definitely met his match.

"Now then," she said firmly. "I think I know what's on your mind, so maybe I should remind you that the absolute last thing I want or need in my life is a man."

He nodded emphatically. "That's for sure."

He was agreeing with her? "Especially a man who only plans on hanging around a couple of weeks and is just looking for a good time."

"Especially that."

"I don't like being tied down or having somebody tell me what to do all the time."

"Can't blame you for that."

"I like my life just the way it is, except the part about finding my husband's remains in the backyard and being the number one murder suspect." She added quickly, "But I plan to clear my name and—"

"Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you just shut up for maybe one minute?"

She blinked, and without warning he dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. Holy cow, she hadn't even seen it coming, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Wes obviously took that as an invitation, because before she could unscramble her brain, he'd pulled her closer and slipped his tongue past her gaping lips. Jeez Louise, but the man knew his way around a woman's mouth! The kiss deepened, and she grasped his jacket with both hands, feeling as though she were riding on one of those wild carnival rides that turned her inside out and upside down and made the world around her spin all topsy-turvy as though everything was out of control.

She thought of pulling away and then decided one more minute wouldn't hurt. His lips were gentle but persuasive, and before she knew it, Annie found her tongue mingling with his. He enveloped her in his arms, and the next thing she knew, her own arms had slipped around his neck. The afghan slid from her shoulders, and she could feel his heat seeping through her bathrobe and gown, and she was straining against him wanting more. She was sorry when he raised his head.

For a moment they just looked at each other, and Annie mentally tried to pick up the pieces of her scattered brain and put them in order and find the part labeled logical thinking.

"Annie?"

She grappled for an intelligible word. "Huh?"

"That was dynamite."

Dynamite? Dy-nuh-mite. Eeek! "Destiny!" she almost hissed. "It's all her fault!"

"I have no clue what you're talking about, but I haven't enjoyed kissing a woman that much in a long, long time. I think we should do it some more."

Annie swayed against him. "I don't think—" But it was too late because there they were, those warm lips, stealing her self-control and turning her brain to mush again. And there she was, kissing him right back and thinking no man had ever tasted so good. And then her body went wacko: her nipples hardened and strained against her flannel gown and her stomach began flip-flopping like a fish out of water and way low in her belly she felt the flicker of something warm and sweet. That something conjured up thoughts that she had no business thinking: Wes warm and naked between her scented sheets, his big hands on her body.

Time to stop.

Annie pulled away quickly and sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. She would give her heart a few seconds to settle down, and then she would admonish him for his actions. Yep, as soon as her pulse steadied she was going to let him have it and have it good.

She sank against him.

Wes pressed his lips against her forehead. "I've half a mind to sweep you up in my arms and carry you upstairs."

She had half a mind to let him do it.

"But I know that the absolute last thing you need or want is a man in your life."

Annie's face burned as he tossed her words right back at her. Worse, she could hear the amusement in his voice, which could only mean he hadn't lost one ounce of control while kissing her and somehow she was going to have to save face.

"Thank you, Wes," she said evenly.

"Thank you?"

"For proving to me that I was right about us," she said, trying to sound sorrowful even as her heart felt as though it were beating in each ear. "Please try not to take it personally, you're a fine kisser and all, but there's just no chemistry."

"At least you gave it a chance."

She stood on legs that felt like overcooked noodles. "We can be friends."

He nodded. "Yeah, we still have that."

She turned and started for the door.

And ran right smack into a wicker rocker, stabbing her big toe. Damn! She lost her balance, fell over the arm, and her face hit the seat. Shit!

Wes was at her side in an instant, pulling her up. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

Annie bit back the loud yowl and four-letter words that threatened to spew from her mouth as pain roiled in her toe, shot through her foot, and shimmied up her calf. Tears burned her eyes. "I'm fine," she said, managing a small chuckle. "I always bump into that chair."

"You might want to move it," he said.

Damned if he didn't sound like he was having a good time. What she really wanted to do was chew the effin' chair into a million pieces and spit it into an open sewer.

"Do you need help getting upstairs?"

Her toe throbbed inside her bedroom slipper. It would be just her luck to have broken the damn thing. She'd probably smushed it to smithereens. "No, no," she said, forcing herself to walk on it and not hobble to the door. Only later, when the surgeon was forced to amputate, would she admit to Wes that it had been a painful experience.

He opened the door for her and she stepped inside. "Good night," she said.

"Sweet dreams, Annie."

She thought she heard him laugh softly as he closed the door behind her.

* * * * *

Theenie was the first to join Annie in the kitchen the next morning. "Boy, don't you look nice," she said, pausing at the sight of Annie in her newest jeans and a starched pale pink oxford shirt. "And you're wearing makeup."

"I always wear makeup," Annie said, trying to sound perky despite having slept very little during the night. She had finally climbed from the bed in the wee morning hours and dragged her throbbing toe to the bathroom, where she'd found a nighttime pain reliever that had allowed her to get a couple of hours' sleep before the alarm clock blared her awake at 5:00 a.m. She was still fighting grogginess and a hurting toe, but she was determined to keep it to herself. She checked the oven, where she had already put in an egg, sausage, and cheese casserole.

"You don't do your eyes up like that except on special occasions," Theenie said. "Like when you and Danny go to a show in Charleston."

Annie entertained the thought of grabbing the sponge from the sink and stuffing it into Theenie's mouth. "It's no big deal, okay?" The casserole was beginning to bubble around the edges. Annie slid in a pan of homemade biscuits before reclaiming her chair at the kitchen table, where she'd begun making up her to-do list for the day.

Theenie joined her a moment later, coffee cup in hand. "I thought I'd never fall asleep last night," she said, batting a dainty hand against her mouth as she yawned. "Peaches kept me awake walking up and down the hall making those weird sounds in her throat that she does when she's not happy."