Hardcore Twenty-Four (Stephanie Plum 24)

I was doing my best to sound authoritative and off-limits, but I was thinking he felt good next to me. And then I was thinking that was horrible and wrong. And that was followed by the possibility that I might not care if it was wrong. And then I realized he’d fallen asleep.

Men! Ugh.

ELEVEN

I WOKE UP in a vicious mood. Ignoring my black eye, I stomped off to the bathroom, took a shower, pulled my hair into a ponytail, swiped on some mascara, got dressed in my usual uniform, and stomped back to the bed where Diesel was sleeping.

“Hey!” I yelled.

“What?” Diesel asked without opening his eyes.

“I’m leaving.”

“Are you naked?”

“No.”

“Did you make breakfast for me?”

“No.”

Silence. Even breathing. Eyes closed.

“Hey!” I yelled again. “Are you sleeping?”

He opened his eyes. “Not anymore. And the ‘Hey’ thing is getting old.”

“Just checking.”

“You have a mean streak,” Diesel said. “You ever think about meditation? Chamomile tea?”

“You ever think about leaving?”

“Not in the last ten minutes.”

I was doomed. If he stayed long enough, my hormones would eventually disconnect my brain, and I’d be on him like white on rice. Bad enough I was in jeopardy of having an arrangement with Ranger, I now had Mr. Big, Hot, and Blond tempting me toward total slutdom.

“Here’s the thing,” I said. “I’m in a relationship and . . .”

His eyes were closed again. Damn! He was asleep.

I blew out a sigh and took one last look. He was beyond annoying when he was awake, and deliciously adorable when he was asleep.

• • •

I called Morelli on my way to the office and got his voicemail. “Just checking in,” I told him. “Hope everything’s good.”

That got a grimace out of me. How good could it be? The man was collecting heads without brains.

I stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts and got coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and a dozen donuts. Probably overkill, but I was looking to seriously increase my endorphin production.

Connie looked up when I walked in. I dumped my messenger bag on the couch, set the box of donuts on her desk, and tucked into the breakfast sandwi

ch.

“What’s new?” I asked.

“Vinnie phoned in and was on a rant about Zero Slick. Apparently, you made national news. Vinnie said he was watching television, and he saw Slick hit you with a sign. He wants to know why you didn’t bring him in.”