Heather Macallister - Falling for You

How often did that happen—a man focusing completely on a woman? On her? Who cared enough to make the effort to please her, never mind what for?

She wanted to melt. Actually, she quite possibly could already be melting—when was the last time she’d felt her toes? She just wanted to fling herself at him, and kiss him senseless. Since she’d knock over the chair in the process, she’d probably have a better chance of rendering herself senseless.

Megan knew Barry would never approach her in a sexual way. There were women far more approachable than she. Women who knew how to look like sexy women, not women who wore jogging bras under police uniforms.

If she didn’t stop thinking of him this way, she’d explode. Lust was explosive, wasn’t it?

Maybe they’d all find out pretty quick.

“You’re still mad at me.” He hadn’t changed expressions.

“What? Oh. I’m not mad at you as much as I’m mad at myself.”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad at myself. I did my job.”

Megan exhaled. “I didn’t do mine.”

“Yeah, you did. I had a couple of lucky guesses.”

“It was more than luck.”

“Luck and experience.” And he gave her a wry smile—one corner of his mouth twisted and then he pressed his lips together. It was uncalculated. A genuine Barry expression. Wow.

And it got to her. She was going to have to sit on her hands or she would grab him and kiss that mouth.

“Run the plate for me?” Still the wry smile.

Damn it! He’d seen how she’d responded. Oh, great. That was going to be her new smile, she guessed, unless she put a stop to it right now.

“No.”

“Please?” His voice was husky. Intimate. Dangerous.

“Hey. We’re not allowed to access the program just on a whim. I could get into serious trouble here and I don’t have to remind you that I’m already in serious trouble. I spent six months on desk detail. Even now, I’m only being sent to schools and giving safety lectures to neighborhood groups. I—”

“I’m covering the Shipley-Hargrove wedding. The groom is not where he should be.”

Megan straightened. This was serious. A civilian was reporting a crime and she’d—

“Stop the panic.” Barry grimaced. “I’m working on a hunch. The groom didn’t like being photographed and then he takes off with the best man who was driving a standard-issue surveillance van. I have the plate number. I just wondered if he’s okay.”

“Are you talking…kidnapped?”

“I don’t know what I’m talking. This is a big-deal wedding with some big-deal guests.” Barry reached into his jacket breast pocket. “Here’s the wedding guest list. If I can’t know names, just tell me if the name from the plate is on the guest list.”

There was a loud clearing of a throat. Gina raised her eyebrows.

Megan had forgotten about Gina. She’d forgotten about everybody. Except Barry.

“Is this man bothering you?” Gina asked.

“Give me a break, Gina,” Barry murmured.

Gina leveled a look at Megan and opened and closed her desk drawer.

Right. Megan turned to him. “If you feel a crime has been committed, then you should report it to—”

“No way.” Barry stood. “You’re the officer I’ve approached.”

“But it’s not my duty—”

“Don’t you guys have to follow the Hippocratic oath?”

“That’s doctors, and stop interrupting me.”

Barry sat back down and wheeled his chair next to hers. Leaning forward, he spoke in a voice so soft that Megan had to lean in close just to hear him. Not exactly a hardship.

“Megan, I’m a desperate man. It’s been seven months since I’ve been allowed to cover hard news. I’ve been stuck in lace-covered, sugarcoated, rose-scented hell. I think there’s hard news here and I don’t want the story going to anyone else.”

Megan opened and closed her mouth.

“I’ll let you know everything I find out. You’ll be the spokeswoman again. Let me make it up to you, Megan. Let me make it right.”

The man could charm bark from a tree. The thought of representing the Dallas police once again made Megan’s mouth water.

“Just a name.” She turned away so she wouldn’t know if triumph flashed in those blue eyes or not.

He was entitled.

After a few moments, she had information. “The van’s registered to a Sterling International.”

“Never heard of them. Got an address?”

“A PO box.”

Barry took out his notebook. “There’s gotta be a street address for deliveries.”

Megan punched a couple of buttons. Info was pretty skimpy on Sterling International. “No street addy that I can find at this level.” She waited because she knew Barry was going to—

“Then go to the next level,” he ordered impatiently.

“Megan—” Warning sounded in Gina’s voice.

“Everybody just calm down.” Megan took a breath and released it. “I’ve already been to the next level. Nada. I’m not authorized to go any farther, so I’ve Googled it. Wanna see?”

Barry rolled his chair right next to hers. He still wore the same light cottony sea-breezy scent and whether it was from the soap he used or a fragrance he applied, Megan knew it was chosen to be on the pleasant side of neutral.

Or maybe it was just fabric softener.

“Scroll.”

Megan scrolled. Barry whistled and pointed. “Click that one.”

Megan clicked. A garishly dark-colored over-the-top warning page appeared on her monitor.

“Click past that.”

“Now wait a minute—it says my computer will be traced and the police will flag it.”

“You are the police.”

“All the more reason—”

“Come on, Megan.” He barely whispered it.

His breath teased the hairs on her neck. She shivered and clicked, then leaned back and let Barry take control of the computer mouse. “That’s one of those conspiracy theory Web sites.”

“Hmm.” He was clicking faster than Megan could read.

“You know, Sterling isn’t that unusual a name. You probably have the wrong one.”

“Maybe.” Barry sat back and checked his watch. “Well, this is all very fascinating, but I want to check out Sterling International in person and see if I can find the groom. Since we don’t have a street address, I’m going to go to the post office where this box is located and check out the area.”

Megan closed her eyes. She should just wave him away. But she didn’t. “Hang on and let me try something.”

She could feel Gina staring at her, but didn’t glance up.

And then she could feel Barry looking at her. Not watching her screen, but looking at her. She didn’t glance up for him, either.

Megan had to search several commercial property lists before she found what she was looking for, but she finally did get an address for Sterling International.

She wrote it down on one of the True Blue for You notepads she gave out when she spoke at schools. “Try this. It’s from census archives. It might not be any good, but at least it’s something.”

“Thanks, sweet cheeks.” And he kissed her. Right on the cheek.

Megan stopped breathing so she could fully experience the brief encounter with Barry’s lips. There wasn’t a lot to experience.

Barry, already on his feet, bestowed her one-dimpled smile on her and Megan braced herself.

So did Barry. With an amused shake of his head, he stood, waiting for a response.

Megan reluctantly waggled her fingers at him and he responded with a two-fingered salute before striding through the squad room.

It was probably going to be their new routine. Megan sighed and noticed Gina watching her.

“Oh, be quiet,” she muttered.

“Did I say anything?” Eyebrows raised, Gina continued typing.