Janet Evanovich - Hero at Large

“What do you mean crusty and skinny? I’m not at all crusty, and I’m certainly not skinny.”

He stepped closer, smiling broadly, obviously pleased that he’d provoked her. Chris felt the warmth from his body swirl around her, and the kitchen temperature seemed to rise twenty degrees. He continued to trail a path along her chin. When his finger reached her mouth, she instinctively licked her dry lips. Their reactions were totally different but equally swift. Chris jumped away as if she’d been burned. How could less than five seconds of contact do that to her stomach? It was like falling forty floors in an elevator.

Ken Callahan’s stomach seemed to be made of sterner stuff. He smiled wolfishly and pressed himself against her, pinning her to the wall. “I realize that lovely little lick was just a reflex action, but I’m going to take advantage of it anyway,” he whispered cheerfully.

“Don’t you dare!”

“I can’t help myself. Kitchens always have this romantic effect on me.”

“Keep away from me, or I’ll bop you on the head with Aunt Edna’s rolling pin.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be kissed in the kitchen?” he teased.

“No.”

“Are you sure? I’m a terrific kisser.”

The man is evil, Chris decided. He knows he can raise my blood pressure just by dropping his voice an octave, and he’s absolutely enjoying it. She pushed against his chest with both hands, hoping he wouldn’t feel her heart pounding in her chest. “You’re horrid.”

“I like when your voice gets all husky and tremulous like that.” His cobalt eyes lowered as he played with the zipper on her sweat suit jacket. “There’s a nice chemistry between us. You knew it as soon as I did-when we looked at each other under the hood of your car. For some reason it scares the heck out of you.”

“I don’t want to get involved.”

“I know that. That’s why I’m moving in.”

“ What ?”

“If I did the normal thing and asked you out to dinner, would you go out with me?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. So I’ll live here.” He smoothed the rumples from the front of her warm-up suit. “Besides, it will be convenient for both of us. I really do need a place to stay. I’m tired of shifting around. I need a home-even if it’s someone else’s home. And you need the money and the transportation. A match made in heaven.”

Oh boy, she thought, I’m doomed. Putty in his hands. “Do you know what a glamus is?”

“A what?”

“Never mind. I suppose you can stay.” She sighed. “Aunt Edna has her mind made up, anyway.” Suddenly she felt very, very tired. “But I’m serious about not getting involved. Keep your distance.”

“Or you’ll drive me straight to the police station.”

Chris felt her lips twitch in spite of herself. “You’re laughing at me, again.”

“Maybe a little.” His hand touched her waist and boldly slid under the jacket of her warm-up suit. He flattened his palm against her stomach. His eyes grew dark and liquid. “But it’s a nice kind of laughing.”

She knew it was a nice kind of laughing. It was gentle and good-humored and affectionate…very affectionate. He was everything she didn’t want to find in a man. He was lovable. And the feel of his hand on her stomach was exquisite. She was sure that when he removed the hand she would be branded for life-that she would never forget the delicious sensations emanating through her body.

There was a flurry of obtrusive plate clanking and throat clearing in the living room. “What’s going on in there?” Edna called. “It’s awfully quiet.”

Ken deposited a quick, light kiss on Chris’ lips and the muted hunger in his eyes shifted to amusement. “I don’t think you have to worry about this arrangement. I think Aunt Edna could be a formidable chaperone.”

Aunt Edna bustled through the kitchen door, the plates and glasses clattering noisily in her hands. “I hate being left out of stuff. If you’re going to talk in the kitchen, then you’re going to have to talk louder.”

Chris took the dishes and began stacking them in the dishwasher. “We were just coming to terms with this-boarding arrangement.”

Ken managed to steal a cookie before they were whisked away into the teddy bear cookie jar. “The deal is that I take out the garbage, and I mind my manners.”

Aunt Edna nodded in approval. “Dinner is at six. You can have the run of the refrigerator between meals-as long as you don’t eat us out of house and home. Goodness, it’s nice to have a man in the house.” She grinned.

Chris took a key from a hook on the bulletin board. She studied the key for a moment, contemplating the significance of the act. She suspected she was giving Ken more than just the key to her house. She was giving him the chance to wreak havoc with her life-and she didn’t doubt for a second that he would take advantage of the opportunity. So, why am I doing this? she agonized. Because I need his truck, she answered. Because I need his money. Chris considered the key innocently resting in the palm of her hand. Were there other reasons? Because he was incredibly handsome? Because he could be outrageously endearing? Because when he’s close to me it’s like lying in the sun-all sizzling skin and luscious heat that sinks straight to my soul. Chris made an effort to control the shiver that ran along her spine, and presented him with the key. “This is for the front door.”

Ken extracted a key ring from his jeans pocket and attempted to work a key loose. The key ring fell from his hand and clattered onto the kitchen floor. There was a brief look of dismay at his one-handed helplessness. He sighed and retrieved the keys. “And this is for the truck,” he told her, handing her the entire key chain. He lowered his voice to a coaxing whisper. “I’m sorry, Chris, I can’t do this by myself. You’re going to have to help me.”

She felt her pulse falter as she fumbled with the keys. Her eyes avoided his while she wrestled with the double entendre.

“Ain’t that nice,” Aunt Edna said. “A real ceremony. Just like getting married.”

Chris felt heat creep along the back of her neck. Aunt Edna had the unnerving habit of saying out loud what everyone else was thinking. Chris thought back to the white-gowned pomp of her hastily planned wedding ceremony almost eight years ago. It had been lovely and exciting, but it had lacked the intimacy and intriguing solemnity of this simple kitchen key exchange. It was a frightening and annoying admission to make, but in some inexplicable way, she suddenly felt married to Ken Callahan.

Ken looked at the two women from under lowered lids as he returned his keys to his pocket. His mouth was stretched into a roguish smile that didn’t quite extend to his tired eyes. “I don’t think I’d make much of a bridegroom today, Aunt Edna. My arm is starting to ache again, and I’m exhausted.”

“Land sakes, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I haven’t.” He slouched against the doorjamb and hugged his broken arm. “Don’t suppose you’d want to tuck me in?” he asked Chris.

Aunt Edna shook her head. “He sounds frisky, but he doesn’t look like he has much spunk left in him. Why don’t you show him his room while I fix lunch.”

Chris led the way downstairs. The lower level rooms were carpeted in the same plush beige. A comfortably plump russet-colored corduroy couch, bordered by two end tables, faced the large brick fireplace that dominated a corner of the rec room. An oversized coffee table, overflowing with children’s books, filled the space between the couch and the fireplace. Two doors led off the family room, one leading to a neat utility room, and the second leading to the guest bedroom and adjoining bath. Chris motioned to the double bed covered with a red plaid comforter. “There are fresh sheets on the bed. I’ll bring some extra towels down later.”