Running on Empty. Michelle Celmer
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Название: Running on Empty

Автор: Michelle Celmer

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежные детективы

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      He barked out a rueful laugh. “What social life?”

      “That doesn’t bother your girlfriend?”

      “Might if I had one.”

      No girlfriend? How could a man as sweet and attractive as Detective Thompson not have one? Unless girls weren’t his thing.

      Jane gave him a sideways glance, watched him walk—the casual, sturdy swagger. She would bet her last dollar he was one hundred percent heterosexual male. The other obvious explanation would be a prior failed relationship.

      “Ever been married?” she asked.

      There was a slight pause before he said, “Almost.”

      His total blank expression made her realize how hard he was trying not to look wounded.

      Way to go, Jane. Any other painful past experiences you’d like to dredge up? Maybe a favorite family pet he’d had to euthanize? “I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me.”

      “It’s okay, it was a long time ago. I’m married to my work now.”

      “Sounds lonely.”

      They fell silent. She walked beside him, watching in her peripheral vision as he dropped items in his cart. It didn’t escape her attention the appraising looks he attracted from women. Appraising being a major under-statement. Jaws dropped and tongues lolled. Not that she didn’t relate. He was ridiculously easy on the eyes.

      The unshaven chin, slightly mussed hair and faded blue jeans gave him a roguish edge, like that irresistible bad boy mothers forbade their daughters to date, yet everything else about him screamed dependable and safe. It was probably the intense yet patient way he looked at a person, until they felt compelled to confess their most horrific sins.

      Married to his work? It was a damn shame to waste all of that raw sex appeal.

      “You’re awfully quiet,” he said. “Thinking about your past?”

      “Actually, no. I was thinking about sex appeal.”

      One eyebrow lifted. “Dare I ask whose?”

      “Yours.”

      “I have sex appeal?”

      She rolled her eyes. “You can’t tell me you don’t notice the way women look at you. On a scale of one to ten, you’re about an eleven on the studmuffin-ometer.”

      “Studmuffin-ometer?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this like the butt thing?”

      “I’ll bet you had a lot of girlfriends in high school.”

      He turned down the laundry aisle, choosing a box of powdered detergent and a bottle of fabric softener. “Why is that?”

      “You look trustworthy. Women like a guy who makes them feel safe.”

      She had his undivided attention now. He stopped walking and turned to her. “I’m safe?”

      She propped her hands on her hips, giving him a thorough once-over. “I think it’s the big, brown puppy-dog eyes. And you have good manners. I’ll bet you always ask permission before you kiss a woman.”

      He shook his head. “Are you always this brutally honest?”

      “I don’t know. Does it bother you?”

      “No.” He started down the aisle. “Truthfully, it’s refreshing for a change. Women usually play games.”

      “Sounds like you’ve been hanging around with the wrong women.”

      “Yeah, it’s a gift. I’m like a magnet.”

      “Besides, what do I have to gain by playing games? I figure, if I’m totally honest with you, maybe you’ll show me the same courtesy.”

      “You want total honesty?”

      Something in his tone made the hair raise on her arms. “When you say it like that, I don’t know.”

      He leaned down, until she felt his breath shift the hair next to her ear. “In the hospital, I did look.” With a wolfish grin he glanced meaningfully at her backside. “And you were wrong. It is spectacular.”

      Oh, my. She’d never imagined him looking so…predatory. This was definitely a side of him she hadn’t expected.

      “Ooookay,” she conceded, a flush warming her cheeks, “maybe you’re not quite as safe as I assumed.”

      “No, I’m human. And human nature,” he said, “can be a damn fine thing.”

      He stopped again, and she realized they were standing in front of the feminine products. He gazed up at the shelves, looking perplexed.

      She peeked over at his list. “Ultra-absorbent, huh?”

      “They’re not for me.”

      She laughed. “Gosh, I hope not.”

      “This is my sister’s list.” He looked at the list, then over at the shelf, shifting uncomfortably.

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