Sex & The Single Girl. Joanne Rock

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СКАЧАТЬ history between them. Too much hormonal short-circuiting if she sat within touching distance. “Now, can I have my remote back? I’ve got work to do.”

      He lifted one dark eyebrow, a quirky expression Brianne remembered well. Her eighteen-year-old self had tried for at least half an hour to raise only one eyebrow like that, and she’d ended up with a massive headache.

      “And you think you can just snap your fingers and make the FBI disappear?” Aidan pitched the remote from hand to hand, never taking his eyes off her.

      While she admired the man’s dexterity—and didn’t that give rise to intriguing questions about what else he did well with his hands?—Brianne couldn’t afford to allow him to distract her with his sleight of hand.

      She snatched the device away from him in midair. “I might not be able to make you vanish this minute since I’m working solo tonight.” Besides, he didn’t exactly pose an immediate danger the way a drunken patron could if she took her eyes off the screens. “But I do know I’m entitled to go about my business while you’re here. Either cut to the chase about what you want from me, Aidan, or let me do my job.” She pressed a button on her recaptured electronic controller and flipped through several camera feeds to monitor the action throughout the club.

      Of course, she needed to then follow through on her action and swivel in her chair to view the various monitors off to her side. A position which left her staring up at several small televisions along with an oversize, frozen image of Aidan and the cigarette girl, Daisy, on the middle screen.

      She had larger-than-life Aidan on camera in front of her, and all-too-real Aidan emanating pheromones behind her.

      A pretty powerful combination.

      Good thing Brianne had gotten over her crush on him long ago or this situation might have presented a problem.

      A shiver tripped through her while she waited— hoped—he’d give up. Maybe he could go search for Daisy Stephenson’s mouth again. Surely anything would be better than just sitting there behind her.

      She could feel the weight of his stare along the back of her neck. She was also pretty damn sure she felt every one of his 98.6 degrees heating the boundaries of her personal space.

      And he was getting closer.

      Brianne didn’t know how she knew it, but the hair on the back of her neck stood on end with awareness. To turn around would be like acknowledging her curiosity. Something she definitely did not want to admit—even to herself.

      But what was he doing back there?

      TWO HOME RUNS IN THREE at bats.

      Aidan rallied his quickly-splintering concentration to keep his mind off Brianne and his hands to himself.

      Think baseball.

      The Marlins’ first baseman had been on fire last night—moving his slugging percentage up to almost seven hundred, if Aidan’s math proved semi-reliable.

      Which it probably wasn’t, given that the usual appeal of bases gained divided by at bats couldn’t compare to the allure of Brianne Wolcott’s auburn hair spilling over her barely-covered back.

      Pale, satiny skin begged his touch while her killer strawberry curls shimmered in the reflected light of ten different televisions.

      He might have persevered and calculated stats for the next guy on the roster if only Aidan didn’t remember exactly how smooth that creamy skin felt and how intoxicating her exotic scent had been from their long-ago, accidental interlude.

      The faint perfume teased him even now, urging him closer to indulge his memories of Brianne.

      As he leaned forward, his hand brushed a button on the elaborate master control board. The oversize screen in front of them came to life in response, setting Daisy Stephenson in motion again.

      Saved by the cigarette girl.

      Aidan pressed himself back in his seat, as far away from the temptation of Brianne as possible. What had he been thinking to let himself get so close?

      Brianne pivoted in her seat, a half smile on her face. “Ready for your big screen debut?”

      He welcomed the cool distance in her voice. Hell, he needed an Arctic blast to stay focused on business with Brianne around. He settled for jerking a thumb toward the television, confident his limited exchange with Daisy on screen wouldn’t reveal the woman’s connection to the Bureau. Brianne’s tape didn’t include the audio feed she had for some of the others.

      Daisy had been more interested in jumping him than providing information.

      “Maybe you can give me a few pointers on how I did.” Aidan needed an excuse to hang out with Brianne, some time to build a rapport with her again.

      “Are you sure you can handle an assessment of your technique?” She folded her arms and peered down her nose at him, the ice queen in full battle mode.

      Luckily, Brianne’s cool demeanor had never scared him off.

      “Since when have I had an ego problem?”

      She cracked a genuine smile, a gift all the more special because it was—in Aidan’s experience—so rare.

      “You’ve got me there.” She turned back toward the screen just as Daisy flung herself into Aidan’s arms on the archived footage. “Prepare to be critiqued.”

      Aidan scooted his chair forward to sit side by side with her, telling himself an essential part of his job was building relationships with people who might have key information on his case. His gut told him Melvin Baxter would be in touch with the ex-stepdaughter he’d always doted on, and Aidan was going to be there when it happened.

      His job—his whole badass reputation within the Bureau—demanded it.

      His decision to sit two inches from Brianne had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted a better whiff of her perfume.

      He stole a glance at her in the dull blue glow radiating from the wall of monitors. Some of the televisions caught the action on the dance floor, around the bars and in the back alleyway. But Brianne stared up at the video of Daisy and Aidan, head tipped to one side as if trying to make sense of the film sequence.

      “You bumbled this kiss from the beginning.” She pointed one pale pink fingernail toward the central screen. “It’s all awkward angles and bad timing.”

      “That’s not my fault. I got cast with the wrong woman.”

      Brianne snorted, her gaze glued to the image of Aidan being clawed into submission by the voluptuous informant.

      Okay, maybe he hadn’t exactly fought the woman off. But she’d taken him totally by surprise.

      “I’m serious,” he protested, wishing his first meeting with Brianne after ten years didn’t have to take place during a fluke lip lock with an overeager coed. “I’m a foot taller than this girl. I need a leading lady with some major long legs.”

      He couldn’t help but smile as Brianne strutted her way into the video scene right on cue.

      “Weak СКАЧАТЬ