“Yes, but you're an Unmentionable guy.”
Diesel had his thumbs hooked into his jeans pockets, and his face set on don't mess with me.
“Fine,” I said to him. “Have it your way. Don't talk to poor Bernie. Go shut him down.”
“I don't believe this,” Diesel said. “It just gets worse and worse. Bad enough I have to play cupid to a butcher, button maker, and veterinarian… now I have to be sex therapist for a guy who gives people a rash.”
“It could be fun. Male bonding and all that. And while we're on the subject of sex instruction, I delivered the bag to Jeanine and watched the movie with her.”
This got a grin out of Diesel. “Did you like it?”
“It was horrible, but we watched it twice.”
Diesel laughed out loud.
“It's the ultimate chick flick. When Dickbender screamed at the end Jeanine turned white and had a third glass of wine. How's the Bernie hunt going?”
“It's not. I can't find him,” Diesel said. “I'm getting no vibes at all. Does his wife know how to get in touch with him?”
“No. I left her my card, and she said she'd call if he made contact. How about Annie? Anything on her?”
“Can't find her either,” Diesel said. “It's like the two of them have gone to the moon.”
“They can't actually do that, can they?”
“Honey, we're a little freaky… we're not NASA.”
I was hit by a gust of wind, and I hunkered down into my jacket, my breath making frost clouds in front of me. Diesel pulled me close and snuggled me into him, and I instantly felt warm. The heat burned in my chest, curled through my stomach, and headed south.
My voice rose an octave. “What are you doing?”
“I'm warming you,” Diesel said.
“I don't need to be that warm.”
“Hey, I'm just sharing body heat. I can't help it if it gets you all bothered.”
“I'm not all bothered.”
Diesel smiled down at me.
“Oh crap!” I said, looking up at him. “You've got dimples.”
“That isn't all I've got.”
I jumped away. “I'm leaving. I'm going to check on Charlene Klinger.”
Stephanie Plum 12.5 - Plum Lovin
Chapter 9
Charlene was in her little front yard, walking Blackie around in circles, trying to get him to tinkle.
“Maybe he needs a fire hydrant or a tree,” I said.
“That's the problem,” Charlene said. “He can't put any weight on his front leg, so he falls over if he lifts his back leg.”
“How did dinner go last night?”