“Umm... then how will I know when you need to be distracted?”
He placed his hands on the counter at my sides, leaning in until he spoke against my lips. “I’ll tell you.”
He feathered his lips on my cheek, and I suspected he was using his exquisite seduction skills to avoid talking about work, keeping me at bay. My hunky detective was putting up a protective shell. He would be a tough nut to crack... but I was nothing if not persistent.
When we came up for air, I debated pushing the issue, but I let it slide instead, because... well, this was new, and my pushy tendencies tended to alienate people, and I really, really didn’t want to alienate Will.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
I relished the compliment but felt compelled to point out something.
“I think my skimpy outfit may cloud your judgment.” I was wearing one of my high school dresses again. I had to bring some clothes here.
“Trust me, your outfit affects many body parts, but not my mind.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. Will grinned.
“I made you blush.”
“You do that a lot.”
“You look sexy in this dress. So sexy, in fact, that I just want to keep you here so no one else sees you.”
“Like I would walk out like this. Don’t worry. My brother was the only one who saw me.” On a whisper, I added, “I like that you’re possessive.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“Because I don’t know if I should admit it. It might enable you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Will
On Thursday, I was ready for the day to be over so I could pick up Paige for our date. Unfortunately, it simply refused to end. Elliot and I had made an arrest, and it had taken hours to fill in all the paperwork and bring everyone up to speed. I didn’t have time to go home and change, so I just hopped in the shower at the station. Luckily, I kept a spare change of clothes in my locker just for such occasions.
As I walked out of the locker room after changing, I rearranged the collar of my shirt and swore loudly. The arrest had involved a physical altercation and had earned me an ugly scratch on my neck, right at the base.
“What did that shirt do to you, Connor?”
I hadn’t heard my colleague Hensley come up to me.
“It’s not the shirt. I got a cut today on my neck, and it shows.”
“Wear your collar up.”
I grimaced. “I’d look like a nineteen-year-old schmuck trying hard to impress.”
Hensley folded her arms over her chest, sizing me up. “You are trying to impress, aren’t you?”
“I’m going on a date, yes.”
“Well, the scratch makes you look more of a badass, so where’s the harm?”
Usually I wouldn’t care, but I suspected it might make Paige uncomfortable.
“Or I can give you some foundation to put on it,” Hensley continued.
I drew the line at makeup. “No, thanks.”