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“No, just a change of pace, you know? Something not so restrictive.” She stepped past him into the main room. Her eyes glanced at the large hamper at the end of her bed. “Besides, all my consulting outfits desperately need cleaning.”
“At least you got choices.” Mel pulled at the clothes he died in. “The best I can do is take things off and put them back on. I guess for a change of pace I can always walk around in the buff.”
Anastacia caught herself looking down at his body before she turned away as heat flushed her cheeks. Images of him strutting around her apartment in nothing but his birthday suit sent a flutter through her stomach. Squeezing her eyes shut against the images only served to make them more vivid. She felt her way to the kitchenette, holding her breath to get her heartbeat to find a normal rhythm again.
“Oh, please don’t,” she pleaded, a note deeper than she meant.
“Don’t pretend like you wouldn’t enjoy a peek, Stacia,” Mel laughed behind her with an over-dramatized growl.
“Anastacia, Mel. Besides, I’ve seen enough naked corpses walking around for my lifetime, thank you. Not everyone is lucky enough to die fully clothed.”
She pulled a drink from the fridge, sat on the couch for a breather before time caught up with her and she’d be off to the station. To face Knight. She wasn’t sure if she could look at the man again after how thoroughly she embarrassed herself the night before. Crying into the gumbo after gulping it down her gullet like it was ambrosia was not the way she ever wanted to present herself. And, despite how hard she tried, she was sure there was more than one time her nose dribbled from the heat.
It wasn’t fair. She had expectations of who he was, based on their meeting, but he wasn’t that stern jerk of a detective. He was friendly, patient, and funny. There was no condescension in him when she asked questions and no dismissal of her ideas. Not that the week would have been easier if he was but, then again, she wouldn’t have this job if he were.
It swirled in her brain. Keep it professional, she had told him. Yet there she had been, having drinks and letting him feed her gumbo. Spicy, hot gumbo. At a place he enjoyed in his city.
Next time, she would have to find something to share with him. Maybe… show him something with west coast flavor, a bit of her culture. Her mother did always make great enchiladas and showed her how to make them.
Next time.
She needed to get her thoughts back to solving this case for Mel instead of thinking about future dates with her boss.
Mel, who was leaning against the doorframe watching her with those blue eyes and threatening to walk around naked.
Good God, she couldn’t escape it.
“Well, I know you’re not thinking of naked corpses now,” Mel teased and sat on the other end of her couch. “He made that good of an impression the first time out?”
“I know you’re trying to tell me something...”
“You're sweet on the detective,” Mel said slowly, enunciating the syllables. “You two had a good first date.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“Did he pay?”
“Yes.”
“Was he the one to invite you out?”
“Yes, but—”
“Did he tell you jokes and introduce you to his favorite things? Did he make you, dare I say it, giggle?”
“Come off it, Mel!”
“You're smitten! The far-off looks, the beaming expressions, the dreamy gaze. You’re sweet on someone. You should be happy!” He gave her a small grin and tried to push his foot against her ankle, but it just phased through her leg. The happy expression faded, and he crossed his legs to distract himself.
“Then why aren’t you?”
He turned back to her with a smile, rigid and forced. She gave enough of those to know the difference between real and fake happiness.
“I am.”
“Because I have no other cause but to be around you nearly at all times of the day until we solve your murder, I’m required to call bullshit.”
“Getting formal on me? I thought we were closer than that. Do I have to take you to dinner to get us back on track?” Mel’s sincere smile was back in place, his voice drenched in a teasing tone.
