Addison Fox - Tempting Target

“Same old same old with my mother.”

“Who’s getting married?”

“My cousin Marcie.”

“Sorry.”

Gabby shrugged, those thick curls bouncing lightly against her back. “She’s been dating the guy forever. We all knew it was coming.”

With a quick hug for Lilah, Gabriella turned toward him and gave him an impulsive hug. “They’re lucky to have you, Detective Yummy.”

“Thanks.”

The woman moved out of the kitchen as fast as she’d come in, and it took Reed an extra moment to realize Lilah had already picked up her empty plate and crossed to the large, stainless-steel sink on the far side of the room. “Did it go well?”

“Fine. They’re excited.”

“And hungry, obviously.” Reed moved up next to her. “The desserts are gone.”

“They’re the groom’s favorites. I’m doing about forty dozen for the wedding.”

“You’re doing four hundred and eighty cream puffs for a wedding?” The words were spoken to her back as she moved toward her long counter to pick up her abandoned mixing bowls from earlier.

“There are nearly four hundred people invited to the wedding. You can count on people to take seconds and, besides—” she shrugged “—that’s how many they want.”

The number boggled his mind. “How do you package that many?”

The dark cloud that had seemed to settle over her never wavered, even as a puzzled look stole over her face. “This is what I do. I’ve got large cardboard boxes we’ll put together for the event. I’ll layer them with parchment paper and then transport the pastries in my truck along with the cake for the wedding.”

Reed realized he had no idea what went into a wedding and his always-curious mind was already thinking through the implications of how someone made that much food. “It’s impressive.”

“You want impressive, you should go see Gab’s setup. She’s the one who has to feed four hundred people an entire meal.”

“That’s what she does? Food? I didn’t realize you had a fourth partner.”

“I don’t. I mean, we don’t. But we’ve been working with Gabby for a few years now. A few odd jobs here and there and now it’s become more consistent. She can’t get into the big hotels because they want to cater on their own, but there are a ton of venues in North Texas that want wedding revenue but don’t necessarily want to manage all the catering themselves.”

“Where’s this wedding?”

“The Arboretum in October.”

Reed thought of the endlessly beautiful acres at Dallas’s botanical gardens, particularly gorgeous in fall. He let out a long, low whistle. “That must be costing them a pretty penny.”

When she said nothing, he added, “The height of wedding season at one of the city’s best venues. And with four hundred people? I’d say a small fortune, more like.”

“Weddings are expensive. And. Well.” She shrugged again. “They appear to have the money for it.”

She busied herself with the dishes and Reed found himself amused at her complete freeze-out. “You’re busy.”

“We’re always busy.” She scrubbed the mixing bowl of crusted cream. “And we lost nearly a week dealing with the break-in and—”

“And the attack on Cassidy.” He kept his words gentle, but he pushed all the same.

He didn’t want her scared—far from it—but he knew in his gut whatever had landed in their laps was far from over. Becoming complacent was the worst that could happen.

“Robert’s gone now.”

“But the person who shot him isn’t.”

She continued scrubbing and only offered up a light shrug of her shoulders. “That’s why you’re here.”

“And you’re running around in your damn underwear, letting anyone and everyone inside your shop.”

Her hands stilled on the dishes, her eyes going wide. He still only saw her profile, but even from that angle he could see her dark brown eyes were wide orbs in her face.

That shock was nothing compared to his own surprise at the harsh words that had spilled from his lips, catching him unaware.

“You have no right.”

“I have every right. I’m trying to keep you and your partners safe and you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Seriously?” She snapped the water off with a hard twist and grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “I’m not the one back here making eyes at our caterer.”

“What?”

Lilah whirled, the irritation in her voice punctuating the gesture. “You heard me. I realize she’s an attractive woman, but you couldn’t wait to flirt all over Gabby.”

Whatever self-righteous anger had carried him this far faded in the face of her resentment.

And a sudden awareness of just why she was upset.

“I wasn’t flirting with your caterer. I can’t say the same for her.”

“Just because she looks like a supermodel doesn’t mean she deserves to be objectified.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Her mouth was already open to keep on arguing when she snapped it closed at his agreement.

Without checking the impulse, Reed leaned in, delighted when those dark eyes went wide and round once more. “But I don’t think that’s why you’re upset.”

“It’s anger for my friend.”

“Oh, really.” He took a moment to just breathe her in, the light scent of sugar that hovered around her simply intoxicating.

“Of course.”

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek before dropping another along the line of her jaw. “It wouldn’t be jealousy?”

Whatever initial acceptance she might have had in the moment vanished. “It’s most certainly not that. And why don’t you ratchet down that swelled head while you’re at it?”

Reed couldn’t stop the smile, especially now that he was virtually high on the scents of vanilla and warm sugar, coupled with the cream puffs that were still humming in his veins.

Could sugar really make someone reckless?

“I wasn’t the one who called myself Detective Yummy.”

“That was—” She broke off. “Gabby was just being funny.”

“Consider me amused.”

Awareness filled her dark gaze and in that moment Reed felt something shift deep inside of him. He knew what it was to want—to need—but the look in Lilah Castle’s eyes was something more.

In her gaze he saw the desperate craving of someone who knew what they wanted yet were afraid to let go.

On sheer instinct, he closed the distance once more and dragged her small, slight frame against his own. At the actual feel of her—muscle, sinew and bone under his hands—he realized his initial estimation was spot-on.

She was a pixie.

As his lips came over hers, her head already tilted up to meet him, he amended that thought. She might be small—a mere slip in his hands—but she had a woman’s curves and a woman’s needs.

The instinct that pushed him on was greeted with full acceptance and he groaned as she opened her mouth, an invitation to deepen the kiss.

The moment was hot—desperate—and he took full advantage.

Heat radiated off her, through the thin material of her sweater. One of his hands was large enough to cover nearly the entire span of her back while the other drifted down toward her derriere, pulling her close.

Her hands gripped his waist, her fingers restless at the waistband of his slacks, and he saw a wash of stars when her stomach bumped hard against his groin.

What had begun as impulse—and a deep need to finally taste her—had turned on him, and Reed felt himself fast losing control. With one last rush of teeth and lips and tongue, he took advantage of the moment and deepened the kiss, lingering over her luscious mouth with satisfying urgency.

Then he pulled away and added a few steps of distance for good measure. As he took in the passion-glazed gaze and soft color high on her cheeks, Reed came to a startling realization.