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She plastered a big smile on her face and leaned down closer to precious Damian, then cooed in her most alienlike voice, “Oh, look, a little earthling.” She straightened and gave Sam a commanding look. “Kill it.”
Damian’s mouth fell open. His eyes went as round as quarters as he took in the big pistol on Sam’s belt. From his open mouth began to issue a series of shrill noises that sounded like a fire alarm.
Sam cursed under his breath, grabbed Jaine by the arm, and began tugging her at a half-trot toward the front of the store. She managed to snag her purse from the buggy as she went past.
“Hey, my groceries!” she protested.
“You can spend another three minutes in here tomorrow and get them,” he said with pent-up violence. “Right now I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested.”
“For what?” she asked indignantly as he dragged her out of the automatic doors. People were turning to look at them, but most were following the sounds of Damian’s shrieks to aisle seven.
“How about threatening to kill that brat and causing a riot?”
“I didn’t threaten to kill him! I just ordered you to.” She had trouble keeping up with him; her long skirt wasn’t made for running.
He whirled her around the side of the building, out of sight, and plastered her against the wall. “I can’t believe I missed this,” he said in a goaded tone.
She glared up at him and didn’t say anything.
“I was in Lansing,” he snarled, bending down so close his nose nearly touched hers. “Interviewing for a state job.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.”
He straightened and looked skyward, as if seeking help from the Almighty. She decided to give an inch. “All right, so a phone call wouldn’t have been too pushy.”
He said something under his breath. She had a good idea what it was, but unfortunately, he wasn’t paying out money for every cuss word. If he had been, she would have hit the jackpot.
She grabbed his ears, pulled his head down, and kissed him.
Just like that he had her pinned to the wall, his arms so tight around her she could barely breathe, but breathing wasn’t number one on her list of priorities right then. Feeling him against her, tasting him—that was important. His pistol was on his belt, so she knew that wasn’t what was prodding her in the stomach. She wiggled against it just to make certain. Nope, definitely not a pistol.
He was breathing hard when he lifted his head. “You pick the damnedest places,” he said, looking around.
“I pick? I was in there minding my own business, doing a little grocery shopping, when I was attacked by not one but two maniacs—”
“Don’t you like kids?”
She blinked. “What?”
“Don’t you like kids? You wanted me to kill that one.”
“I like most kids,” she said impatiently, “but I didn’t like that one. He poked me in the ribs.”
“I’m poking you in the stomach.”
She gave him a sweet smile, one that made him shudder. “Yeah, but you aren’t using a plastic laser gun.”
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, looking desperate, and hustled her to her car.
fifteen
Do you want coffee?” Jaine asked as she unlocked the kitchen door and led him inside. “Or iced tea?” she added, thinking a tall, cool glass would be just the ticket right now, with the scorching heat outside.
“Tea,” he said, ruining her image of cops living on coffee and doughnuts. He was looking around her kitchen. “How is it you’ve only lived here a couple of weeks and this place already looks more lived-in than mine?”
She pretended to consider the matter. “I believe it’s called unpacking.”
He looked up at the ceiling. “I missed this?” he muttered at the plaster, still seeking enlightenment.
