She didn’t think he was talking about the whipped cream on top of his cocoa.
She finished hers in record time. After he set his mug down on the counter, he drew close, placed his hands on her shoulders, and kissed her mouth. Gently, sweetly—even more so because his mouth and hers tasted like sweet whipped cream and cocoa.
“Are you ready for bed now?” he asked.
She laughed. “Uh, yeah, and you’re probably ready for a shower.”
He smiled back, and they walked down the hall to the guest room where he said good night.
“Night,” she said and hurried off to her room. She wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink after this.
*
After a hearty breakfast of ham-and-cheese omelets, precooked pork sausages, and slices of cantaloupe the next morning, they were on their way to the scene at the lake. She was glad Allan knew how to prepare meals, although he had admitted his mother finally got after him about making Rose do all the meal preparations when his mother wasn’t around.
The snow had stopped and everything was as pristine as before. They saw that the edges of the lake had frozen over as they headed into the water. Despite the suits providing insulation from the chilliness, it was always cold for a bit until their bodies warmed the water filling their suits. Debbie hoped they’d find something in the lake that would make all the effort worthwhile. She and Allan had both been quiet this morning. She normally didn’t have company at her place, so having someone to talk to wasn’t part of her morning routine. Allan was also alone most of the time, so maybe he was quiet for the same reason.
On the drive to the lake, more silence. Maybe they were both just tired. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person. It took her a while to wake up in the morning. Three cups of coffee and another hour, and she’d be more awake. It had taken her forever last night to quit thinking about the whipped cream incident.
Of course, once she took a dip in the icy water, she’d instantly wake up.
Still, she couldn’t stand the silence between them. They’d barely said anything other than “Good morning,” and “Sugar or cream in the coffee?” or “Ham and cheese in the omelet?” She did worry that maybe he was concerned he shouldn’t have kissed her. Allan had always been sensitive about others’ feelings, so maybe he was worried about her.
Truth was, she didn’t know how to feel. One part of her really wanted more between them. The other part was waffling about whether that was such a good idea. If things didn’t work out, then their diving partnership would be over, and what would they do then? Wouldn’t it look unprofessional for both of them if they suddenly said they couldn’t work together? She wanted to clear the air between them if he was bothered by what had happened between them last night.
“So, not a morning person?” she finally asked.
He smiled and glanced at her. “Sorry. Gathering wool. Just running over several scenarios in my mind.”
“Any that you care to share with me?”
He turned off on the road to the lake and shook his head. “Nothing earth-shattering. Same stuff we’ve been pondering since we started this investigation.”
“Why would the sedan follow me? We’re both working the case. Why would the driver follow me and not someone else who’s investigating it? Doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“Not sure. If he was a serial killer and you fit the description of the victim—a beautiful brunette, petite—then maybe we would see a similarity. Or if you knew the victim, which you didn’t. So I really don’t know where this is leading.”
A beautiful brunette? That made her feel a little better. “Are you a morning person?” She had to know. It seemed everyone she knew married opposites. Not that she was thinking in those terms, but she was just curious.
“I love the dawn and dusk and every moment in between.”
She smiled at that. “That’s nice. I guess the case just has you bothered.” And the one involving his sister and friend’s wife too. No matter what, Debbie didn’t want a little kiss to come between them.
Chapter 8
Allan realized Debbie was bothered by his distant behavior this morning. He really shouldn’t have kissed her. He hadn’t planned to. Not until he saw her funny mugs and her face turn fifty shades of red, and then she had sprayed him with whipped cream and washed him down. He’d thought the cocoa would help him sleep, but after all that?
Hell, all he could think of was how much he wished he could have joined her in bed.