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His brows turned inward, as if he was choosing his next words with care. “Yes. The woman is quite the steamroller.”
“That’s an extremely polite way to put it,” she said.
Joe chuckled. “She was extremely polite, but oddly forceful.”
“You have no idea. She’s stopped just shy of having everyone address her as The First Lady of Hudson Island. She truly is nice, but she’s a bit... much.”
“She’s also, um, a close talker, isn’t she?”
Roxie nearly choked on her coffee. “You could say Mrs. Green becomes quite enthusiastic when talking to the good-looking men in this town. Particularly the younger, good-looking men.” More like she was two steps shy of creepy Mrs. Robinson territory.
“Gotcha.” He nodded. “So, if she demanded I save her a dance tonight, should I be worried?”
Roxie laughed. “She’s mostly all talk. You’ll be fine.”
Joe’s blue eyes widened. “‘Mostly’?”
She shrugged. “It’s an official Chamber of Commerce event. It will be fancy. There’s a black-tie dress code, sit-down meal, and band. So, she’ll be on her best behavior. It’s doubtful she’ll grab your ass on the dance floor or anything.”
His eyes widened even more. “‘Doubtful’?”
“There’ll be alcohol—and Mrs. Green does love her bubbly—so who knows?”
“Good god,” he groaned. “What time does it start?”
“Six. You hitching a ride with me tonight?”
“Only if you promise to save me from The First Lady of Hudson Island. She kinda gives me the creeps. You ogling me is one thing, but her?” He shivered. “No, thank you.”
“Awww.” She patted him on the cheek. Probably a little harder than necessary. “Is the big, bad FBI agent scared of little ole Mrs. Green?”
He swatted her hand away. “Ha-ha, smart-ass.”
She chuckled and stood up from her chair, hip checking him as she walked by. “Suck it up, stud muffin. Suck it up.”
* * *
Joe glanced at his watch for the millionth time. He could hear Roxie shuffling around upstairs. She had approached the staircase on four separate occasions, then quickly pattered back to her room, faking him out over and over again.
“Rox, let’s go already!”
“Be down in a minute! I promise this time.”
Sure. She’d been promising that for the past ten minutes.
He flopped down on the couch with a groan and wondered why he was bothering to rush her. So what if they were late? The longer she took, the less time he had to spend at a stuffy dinner. Hell, he’d be happy to skip the entire event. Anything to avoid crossing paths with Mrs. Green again. The woman was... a lot. She’d eyed him like a piece of meat yesterday, and he hadn’t known whether he should cover his crotch or his ass with his hands.
This morning, however, when Roxie had been the one gawking at him, he’d felt uncomfortable in a whole different kind of way. It had taken everything in him to keep his dick in check. Because the pajama pants he’d had on wouldn’t have hidden a damn thing.
Footsteps sounded at the top of the stairs. By some miracle, he heard Roxie descend all the way this time. Joe dragged himself off the couch and headed for her, prepared to make some smart-ass remark about women and their primping. He couldn’t let her know that her delay was working in his favor this time.
But as he caught sight of Roxie, he froze. All thoughts left his brain; his mouth turned to dust.Holy shit.
His gaze traveled down the length of her. She wore a simple black dress that hit her mile-long legs at mid-thigh and hugged her figure like a second skin. The two tiny straps holding her dress up were flimsy at best. Not that he was complaining. Not at all. She looked fucking stunning.
“Sorry that took so long,” she murmured, fixing an earring. “I couldn’t find the right shoes.”
On her feet were shiny red stilettos. He wasn’t quite sure how she’d survive the night in those sky-high heels, but who the hell cared? They did fabulous things to her already fabulous legs.
