To Catch A Player

“But why? At the very least, you deserve an explanation.”

I’d thought that, too, in the first few days after our night together, but then I realized he’d done me a favor. “Maybe so, but I don’t want one anymore. Just, please, don’t make me regret opening up to you.”

“Fine,” she said on a disappointed sigh, but I wasn’t completely sure her urge to investigate was put to rest. “But I still think you’ve got it all wrong. Jackson is brooding and mysterious, and sometimes grouchy. But he’s not a jerk.”

“They never are.” Except when they were. I was over this subject and I had a surefire distraction. “Hungry?”

Her eyes went wide and a slow smile spread across her face. “Starved. What have you got?”

“The next competition is ribs, as you know, and I’ve been perfecting this bourbon root beer sauce.” I scooped some rib tips, fries, and slaw onto a plate for her. “Is it too early for this much food?”

“Nope. I burned plenty of calories last night. And this morning,” she said, hiding her smirk behind of mouthful of fries.

“Didn’t need to know that, but burn off a few for me while you’re at it.” I regretted those words before I even finished saying them, because they only antagonized Ginger.

“Or you can ring up Detective Hottie and scratch your own itch. That’s also an option,” she retorted and shoved a forkful of slaw in her mouth before she said anything else.

“I would but I’m just too busy. Tonight, I’m busting out the slow cooker to try out a few different times and temps on the ribs. What do you think of the sauce?” The words came out so fast they nearly ran together and I snapped my lips shut.

“It’s delicious. A little sweet for my taste.”

I felt my face twist into a frown at her words—that was exactly what I’d been afraid of. “I let the root beer reduce a little too long.” Luckily, it was a small test batch.

“Maybe you need some time with something other than your battery-operated appliances to, uh, ahem, unclog your pipes.”

I glared at Ginger for a long moment, until she laughed. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

Ginger shrugged. “Memory loss and inability to form complete sentences are the main symptoms of sex deprivation. Just sayin’.”

This time, the only thing I could do was stare at the crazy woman who had invaded my kitchen.JacksonI’m a detective. I’ve worked every kind of case, from robbery to arson to homicide and everything in between. Gotten some of the most hardened criminals to crack under my interrogation techniques.

But it one little chef had me all in a tizzy.

Reese had gone radio silent on me, again. Only this time I knew why. I’d even understood, and I’d been willing to be understanding—but that was a few days ago. Now, I was annoyed. As if I didn’t have anything better to do than hunt down a woman so I could help her cook. It’s not like I even owed her a damn explanation, but there I was standing on her doorstep, prepared to plead my case.

I finally summoned enough courage to knock and then I waited. And waited. Her car was parked in the driveway and music blared from an open window in the back, but she didn’t answer and I was done playing games. “I guess I’ll go around back.”

The music got louder as I passed the open window and faded as I entered the backyard that Reese had transformed into a green oasis of flowers and herbs and vegetables.

There was a little red shed in the back corner of her yard, decorated with yellow tulips. Of course, what else?

“Stupid damn shelf!” The sound of Reese’s muttered curse brought a smile to my face and I followed it to the flowered shed.

There she was, standing on the tips of her toes to get as tall as she could, her T-shirt riding up dangerously high on her ribcage to give me the perfect view of her arched back. Her arms extended as high as they could go, still a few inches shy of what she needed. I should have made my presence known, it’s what a gentleman would have done.

It’s what I would have done if she hadn’t gone dead silent on me for the past few days. Instead, I decided to have a little bit of fun, stepping inside the tiny space and pressing my front to her back so I could reach the high shelf that held just one box. “Let me get that for you.”

She startled and stiffened at my words, but relaxed the moment recognition washed over her. “Uh, thanks.”

The box weighed a ton and I sat it on the grass just outside the shed, giving Reese a chance to follow me. “What the hell is that thing?”