“Regardless of how you came to get the copy, I’m very grateful.”
“You’re welcome.” With a wicked grin, he added, “Now why don’t you show me again just how grateful you are?”
I smacked him in the chest with the book. “Nice try, but we have work to do, remember?”
Catcher groaned. “Being an agent is so cock-blocking.”
“Come on in. I just need one second to grab my purse.”
Catcher started into the foyer when a woof of greeting from Motown had him skidding to a stop. After getting a good look at the somewhat gnarly looking pit bull, Catcher took a step back. “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you.”
When Motown gave a low growl, Catcher cocked his brows. “You sure about that?”
“Positive. Trust me, he’s the biggest pansy and worst guard dog ever. He just wants to lick you to death.”
With apprehension in his eyes, Catcher stepped inside. He held out his hand for Motown to sniff. Instead of getting a whiff, Motown proceeded to lick and slobber all over Catcher’s hand. Catcher grinned. “I think he likes me.”
“He does. You would know it if he didn’t.”
“I thought you said he was a bad watch dog?”
“He is. When he doesn’t like someone, he just pees on their leg and walks away.”
“Wish I could do the same sometimes.”
I laughed as I walked down the hall to the living room. After grabbing my purse, I came back to see Catcher sending Motown into doggy heaven when he started scratching behind his ears. “You know, I never would have imagined you with a dog like this.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“First off, you really seem more like a cat person.”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Because I’m thirty and single aka a future cat lady in the making?”
“No. That’s not it at all. You just seem like someone who likes small, cuddly things.”
“Motown might be eighty pounds, but he’s a real cuddle bug.”
“Yeah, I also didn’t see you as someone with a pit bull that looks like he’s been through the wringer.”
“He has. After he started hanging around at the funeral home, I took him to the vet. She confirmed that he’d been used as a bait dog in a dog fighting ring.”
Catcher’s face clouded over with anger. “Bastards.”
“If I had my wish, anyone who attended dog fights or participated in them would have a machine gun fired at their genitals.”
With a bark of a laugh, Catcher said, “Easy there, Terminator.”
I gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. I tend to get a little violent about people who hurt animals, children, and the elderly.”
“Don’t apologize. I totally agree with you about machine-gunning genitals of abusers. It’s just I’m not used to seeing all that rage come from you.” He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “It was a little scary and a little sexy at the same time.”
I laughed. “I think you’re one of the few men who find my scary side even remotely sexy.”
“They don’t know what they’re missing,” Catcher replied.
As we stood there staring at each other, palpable electricity swirled in the air around us—the kind that made the hair on the backs of your arm and neck stand up. Even Motown sensed it because he came up and nudged his nose between us.
Catcher chuckled as he patted Motown’s head. “Easy there, boy, I’m not trying to take her away from you. Can we share?”
Motown glanced between Catcher and me before burrowing deeper between us. “Hmm, guess the answer is no.”
“We should probably get going,” I said. It wasn’t so much that I cared about tracking down the Ezra and Zeke Chester lead as it was I feared if I didn’t get some distance between Catcher and me, I would rip his clothes off and bang him on and off the furniture in my living room. There was also that nagging voice in the back of my head that it was about so much more than sex with the two of us. That we had a deep connection that had nothing to do with connecting my vagina with his penis. Although that part was certainly very nice.
After slinging my purse over my shoulder, I looked at Motown. “Be a good boy while I’m gone.” He licked my hand in acknowledgement before grabbing his bone and hopping up on the couch. I turned to Catcher. “Ready?”
“Yup. Let’s go get our holy on.”
I laughed. “Fingers crossed that this is an uneventful evening.”
Catcher snorted. “Babe, I think it’s safe to say that there is not going to be anything uneventful about this case.”
And once again, Catcher was right.
Drop Dead Sexy
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)