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4
Corey stood on the front stoop of a cute townhouse only a few blocks from his own apartment. His head was pounding, and his mouth felt like cotton, but he’d had Will drop him here to get his damn truck. He didn’t know what had possessed him to let the woman steal his car keys, but he’d stayed at Marc’s last night and begged for a ride to her place this morning. And now this stupid woman wasn’t answering her door. He’d been knocking for at least five minutes, so he pounded again, louder this time, causing another throb in his head. Still no answer. When he was about to break a window, the red wooden door finally swung open to reveal a hot little body in black fitted Sideline shorts and a teeny tiny crop tank top.
“What the hell?” she asked, and he realized this hot body actually belonged to his little car thief.
He tipped up his sunglasses to get a better view, but winced at the sunlight. Taran was definitely small everywhere, but the fitted clothes showed off her hour-glass curves. The two inches of tan skin between her tank and shorts revealed a toned waist, and the scoop of the neck showed a small handful of boob. He was hungover, but not dead.
“If you look like that, why do you cover it up with crap?”
She didn’t react, just tipped her head and stared at him.
He pushed his glasses onto his head and walked past her inside. “This looks like a girl’s place,” he said, taking in her space.
Wallpaper, glass tables with brass edging, flowers and framed photos, one of those princess crystal chandeliers, a white and tan area rug, and a gray button sofa with too many pink throw pillows. It was tasteful, very tasteful, but feminine and not what he’d expected from Taran.
She ran her hand through her straight midnight hair, flipping it out of her eyes. “Should we have the two x’s conversation again?” Not that they needed to when she crossed her arms, pushing up her boobs, and stared at him with those sex eyes.
He turned to her as he leaned on the distressed white fireplace mantle. “Are you wearing a bra?”
She frowned and stretched. “I’m not a morning person. Are we flirting or fighting?”
It was his turn to frown—he wasn’t sure either. “Neither. I just need my keys you stole.”
“Dude, it’s not theft if they’re forced on you—I said no multiple times.” She yawned. That cute little ass, the one that five minutes ago, he didn’t know she had, wandered out of the room, returning a few moments later with a bottle of water and keys. His keys, which she didn’t return, stayed in her hand as she glared at him. “When is the next date?”
“If you think this is dating, you need to get out more.” Corey shook his head, causing another ache; he wasn’t sure if he was flirting again or not. He needed some aspirin.
“I meant a date with the Evanses, although I’d happily be your plus one to Mel Holly’s wedding,” she said, handing him the water bottle.
He gritted his teeth. His ex’s wedding wasn’t a topic he was hashing out with her, nor were there enough threats in the world to get him to take the “In Case You Didn’t Know” queen to Mel’s wedding.
She stared at him, waiting, with the water bottle extended, so he finally took it, along with the four Advil she had in her palm.
“What’s this?” Was this woman a freaking mind reader?
“Are you going to tell me you’re not hungover? Because you were drunk as heck last night.” That thin eyebrow arched up, daring him to deny it.
He didn’t bother. At least he hadn’t said anything stupid that she might use in her blog.
“Thanks,” he replied and let the water cure his cottonmouth in one long chug.
“I would have joined you, but it would kill my image to say I hate beer, so nursing a beer was the best I could do,” she said and flopped on the sofa, still holding his keys, and folded her legs under her.
“Nosy ass reporters have to drink beer?” he asked.
“Yup, must like beer and must keep ourselves separate from what we’re reporting on. The two commandments,” she agreed but clearly didn’t mean it.
Her head was resting on the sofa and her eyes were closed, but Corey could hear the eye roll in her tone. His gaze danced across her petite features and smooth skin. When her eyes were removed from the mix, she looked delicate. Even her ears were small and cute. Corey shook his head, annoyed with himself. He didn’t like this woman.
“No issue stealing my car though—that’s not crossing a line,” Corey grumbled, feeling off-kilter after the last twelve hours.
“Again, you forced me to take it so Danny wouldn’t drive me home,” she said. When he growled, Taran had the nerve to chuckle. “Don’t be jealous. No female could resist that boy.”
“Who said I was jealous?” His teeth were on edge. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Yet what did he care about what she did? Or who she did it with?
“Danny—I think four times?”
“Shut up,” Corey snapped, but her lips twisted into a smirk as if she was purposely annoying him. “Danny would have gotten you something besides beer if you asked.”
