Flirting with Disaster (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 2)
She was feeling good tonight, though. Really good. That chaotic scene at the courthouse had actually soothed her fears. This whole thing with the judge truly was a big deal. Tom hadn’t lied about why he was sneaking around the neighborhood and knocking on doors. This had nothing to do with her, and her relief was bubbling over into giddiness. She danced around with the vacuum, singing along to Elvis Costello at the top of her lungs.
It took her only a few minutes to vacuum, but after she brought in wood from the porch and piled it next to the fireplace, she had to vacuum again. Before she was done with the second pass, Bear was screeching. Loudly. She glanced over to see him stretched up on his tiptoes, clawing at the front door. She shook her head. He kept clawing.
“Stop that!” she yelled over the vacuum. He ignored her then yowled louder when she switched off the vacuum.
“You know it’s dangerous out there,” she scolded. “There are coyotes. Mountain lions. Foxes.”
He shot her a nasty look. Yeah. He could probably take a fox. And maybe a coyote.
“There are cars sometimes,” she tried. He didn’t relent. “All right, Bear, but please come home. Don’t get lost. Okay?”
He paced in front of the door until she opened it, then shot through the narrow space, his massive body forcing its way through. “Rude,” she snapped then lunged back in shock when she saw the dark shadow looming above her.
“God!” she screamed, reaching toward the door to push it closed again.
* * *
“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ask who it is before you answer,” Tom said as she caught the door at the last minute and glared at him.
The terror on Isabelle’s face quickly narrowed into irritation. “Yeah, no shit!” She snapped on the outside light. “I didn’t know you were there.”
“Sorry. I knocked.”
She waved weakly toward the living room. “I had a lot of stuff going on.”
“I noticed.” He’d noticed when he’d pulled up and seen her dancing in the living room window, both with the vacuum and without it. Between the warm light shining around her in the dark and the tight orange tank top clinging to her breasts, she’d been a fucking vision. He’d watched for only a minute, though. Then he’d started to feel like a creep.
By the time he’d gotten to the porch, there’d been shouting and feline howling, plus the loud music, and all of it roaring over the vacuum.
“Elvis Costello,” he said as she closed the door behind him. “Nice.”
“He’s great to clean to. You want a beer?”
“Not today. Too much going on.”
“Well, I need something cold. I’m hot as hell.”
Yeah, he’d noticed that, too. Her cheeks were pink, and there was the faintest hint of moisture glinting off her cleavage when she moved. Jesus. He tried to look away, but then she raised her arms to pull her hair off her neck and twist it up. Her breasts rose with the movement. His eyes didn’t.
“Come on,” she said, turning away and breaking the spell. She grabbed something metal off a table as they passed and stuck it into the knot she’d made of her hair.
“The place looks nice,” he said, following the sway of her hips to the kitchen and trying to keep his mind off her curves and on the real reason he’d come.
“Thanks. I’m having a little girls’ party tomorrow.”
“I heard.”
Her head popped up over the open fridge door. “Did Jill invite you?” She didn’t sound exactly pleased.
“To girls’ night? No. But we got word from Veronica Chandler that she’d like to come.”
“Oh, that’s right. Lauren told me she was going to invite her. Are you okay with it?”
He nodded. He was more than okay with it, because it would give him an excuse to poke around this place some more. To solve this mystery. The longer he knew her, the more he thought she was hiding from something, and the more he wanted to help. “We’ll have to send a couple of agents along with her, though. We’ll try to stay out of your way.”
Her eyes narrowed a little. “I don’t want strangers in my house.”
“I’ll do it myself, if you’re more comfortable. And my second-in-command is a woman. I could bring her.”