“Not from Bob!” She kept her voice low. “How am I supposed to get to know him if you’re hanging over us all the time?”
“What’s to know? He’s full of himself. That’s it. Whole story. Move on.”
She pursed her lips. He thought she might hit him, but instead she swivelled on her heels and strode away from him. Flashing those luscious legs and reminding him again that she shouldn’t have worn that dress.
“Come on, Bob, we can’t get rid of him, so let’s pretend he’s invisible.” Jena cast an irritated look over her shoulder at Matt.
And that was when it happened.
Her heel caught in the 1970s faux-shag rug and she lurched forward. Bob reached for her. The margarita flew through the air, soaking Bob. He cursed loudly. Jena reached for the breakfast bar to break her fall. Two candles went flying. One hit Bob.
And the butcher went up in flames.
Matt had been rushing to catch Jena when Bob screamed. He changed direction. He lunged at Bob, tackling him down onto the ugly rug. A second later he had the guy rolled up like a sausage in pastry. The flames were out. The rug smouldered around Bob, who was sobbing hysterically.
Jena fell to her knees beside the butcher, patting his face gently. His head and feet were the only parts of him not rolled in rug.
“I am so sorry.”
Jena’s voice trembled. She was clearly in shock. Matt eyed her with worry. He’d seen her during the aftermath of many a disastrous date. She’d never been this upset before. But then, she’d never set a guy on fire before either. As he dialled for an ambulance and the local doctor, he watched Jena. Did she actually feel something for Bob the butcher?
The thought left him with cement in his stomach.
“Get away from me,” Bob shouted. “You’re the kiss of death. Every guy who comes near you gets hurt. What is wrong with you, woman?”
Jena jerked backwards as though she’d been slapped. She clim
bed to her feet and placed a hand on the breakfast bar to steady herself. Matt didn’t like how pale she looked.
“You’re a menace,” Bob shouted. “No wonder they call you Calamity Jena.”
Jena sucked in a shocked breath. Her whole body shook.
Bob spat his words at her. “I thought the stories were lies. No one as hot as you could be that accident-prone. I was wrong. You’re a freaking mess. No guy should get anywhere near you. Not if they value their life.”
Jena’s eyes turned glassy, but she didn’t say anything. Her bottom lip trembled, and what little sympathy Matt felt for the butcher evaporated. He nudged the Bob-filled rug with his toe. Okay, maybe kicked would be more accurate. Whatever. “Cut it out. It was an accident. No need to be more of a dick than usual.”
Bob’s mouth fell open. “You kicked me. I’m dying of third-degree burns and you kicked me. What kind of cop are you? You’re as crazy as she is.”
At that point there was a thump at the door. Matt looked at Jena’s ashen face. “Not one word,” he threatened an irate Bob.
Matt went to let the doc in.
“What we got?” The doc rushed past Matt, clasping his medical bag.
“Jena accidentally set Bob on fire. He’s in the rug. He’s fine. Jena’s in shock. You need to check her out. I’m worried about her.”
“Check Jena? I’m the one who was on fire!”
“Can you give him something to put him to sleep?” Matt gave the Bob-filled rug a look of disgust. “I’m fed up listening to the guy.”
“That’s it. I’m lodging a complaint. Your superiors are going to hear about this…”
Matt tuned out Bob’s rant. Instead he pulled Jena into his arms, surprised when she curled into him. “It’s okay, princess,” he murmured against her hair. “Don’t let him get to you. It was an accident. His fault. He’s the one with the bad décor. Anyone could have tripped on that huge, hairy rug. You were bound to hit a candle when you fell. There are about a million of them in here. Don’t worry about it.” He rubbed her arms as she shivered.
Doc unwrapped Bob. The guy was still ranting. Doc let out a sigh. “Mild burns. You got him fast enough. Nothing to worry about. The clothes and the rug are trashed, but he’s fine.”
“See,” Matt told Jena, “he’s just being a big baby. He’s fine.”