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She mashed her lips together. She didn’t like him guessing she’d gotten that wrong. “You said it was to show me how a stakeout worked.”
“I felt guilty about how I’d treated you. Guilt and attraction, that’s a lethal combination punch. Now ask me why I kissed you that night.”
“It was for the story. So you didn’t get caught out spying on Bix.”
“It was because I wanted you.”
It wasn’t for the story. He’d lied. “Are you telling the truth now?”
“I needed cover, sure, but I didn’t need to put my hand up your dress or my tongue in your mouth.”
Oh. It was kind of a date then. The new Cooper Street Can’t Get Enough dress didn’t go to waste.
“You came through that door tonight and you looked at me as if you’d never seen me before. We don’t know each other. I’ve behaved like a bastard and this experiment started something, but I want to be sure that when I take you to bed it’s not the experiment I’m fucking. I want you to know it too.”
He wasn’t lying now. And she wasn’t imagining he had it as bad for her as she had it for him.
“The look on your face, Honeywell.” His softened into a smile. “Derelie.”
Jackson Haley saying her first name shouldn’t make her feel made from beating wings.
“I want to take you on a picnic. I want to finish the last set of questions. When we’re done, if you still want me, nothing will stop me making you feel good, not being colleagues, not the story, not knowing you could do better than me.”
Not a cad. Not a bastard. There was some kind of unexpected chivalry at work here.
“What now? We talk about the weather?”
“You go home. Do some down dog. Make sure you don’t want that other guy you sweat with instead of me.”
“That other guy can put his ankles behind his head.”
Jack laughed. “The question is, does he make you want to put yours behind his head?”
If her tongue got any dryer, she’d have to make a grab for Martha’s water bowl.
“Tomorrow, lunchtime, I’ll pick you up and take you out in the sunshine. I’ll see what I can do about birds.”
“You could’ve thrown me out because I’m a thief, but you’re throwing me out because you don’t want to kiss me anymore.” She tried to summon resentment, but it was squeezed out by amusement.
He stepped into her space, put his hand to her face and brushed his lips on hers, making it all better. “Go home, Derelie, before we do something we might regret. There’s time for that tomorrow night when at least we can pretend to have given this our full consideration.”
The fact he was using her first name was enough of a softener, the rest of it didn’t hurt either. She bent to say goodbye to Martha, got a “Marah, yip” in response, collected her cell and purse, and met Jack at the front door.
“You don’t know where I live.”
He pointed at his chest. “Investigative reporter.”
“You’re going to hack into the employee database to find me?”
“No.” He handed her a Sharpie and a pad. “I was going to ask.”
She tried not to laugh as she wrote her address down. “Do I need to bring anything?”
“Just that last set of questions.”
He stood very close. They were toe to toe. She touched a finger to his brow. “Does it hurt?”
“Had worse.”
