Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“You got a body in there?” The playfulness in my voice is clear. “Sorry to tell you, Damien, but I’d have to arrest you.”
He turns to me with a fake pout. “You would? After all we’ve shared?”
“In a heartbeat,” I reply, biting back a smile. “Badge before…whatever this is between us.”
He retrieves two canvas bags from the trunk. “Good thing it’s just dinner ingredients, then. I’m cooking for you tonight if you’ll let me.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “You cook? Or did your private chef pack some gourmet TV dinners with reheating instructions?”
Damien’s laugh is rich and genuine, the sound wrapping around me like a warm embrace. “I’ll have you know I’m quite skilled in the kitchen. Among other things,” he adds with a wink.
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I refuse to let him see how much he affects me. “Big talk, Wolfe. You’ll have to prove it.”
“With pleasure,” he purrs, his voice low and promising. “Though if I accidentally poison you, feel free to sue me. I hear I’m good for it.”
I chuckle, some of the tension between us dissipating. “You’ve got yourself a deal. Either I get a great meal or a fat lawsuit. Seems like a win-win to me.”
His eyes soften, a touch of vulnerability showing through his confident exterior. “So, does this mean I’m forgiven?”
I turn toward the house, allowing myself a small smile he can’t see. “That depends on how good you are with your…cooking skills. I have high standards, you know.”
I’m also curious to see what else he’ll do with those magic hands.
Maye a night of hot monkey sex is just what I need.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Damien
“That smells so good already. What is it?” The moan Frankie lets out as she re-enters the kitchen almost does me in. Then I see her in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, looking relaxed. Almost happy. Because of me. “Damien, is everything okay?”
I clear my mind of my dirty thoughts and flash my most charming smile, letting my gaze linger on her body. “Everything’s great. Even better now that I get to see you like this. Relaxed. Beautiful.”
She rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks tells me she appreciates the compliment. “So, what’s making my house smell so amazing?”
“It’s nice to meet a woman who isn’t afraid to show her love of food.”
“Oh, believe me, I love food. A lot. Now, tell me what you’ve got cooking.”
I cover the pot and reach for the bottle of Pinot Noir that I opened on the counter to breathe. “Coq au vin.”
She nods approvingly. “Yum. I had it at this French place in Silver Lake. Think you’re as good as they are?”
“Absolutely.” I hold up my glass with a grin. “Let’s toast to new friends getting to know each other better. Much better,” I add, because that’s my plan for tonight. Getting to know more about the beautiful detective.
She cocks a brow. “Are we friends now?”
I nod. “To be honest, I don’t know how any of my other friends taste, but I think we can be friends. Can’t we?”
Her gaze is sharp, but there’s humor in her eyes. “That depends on your definition of a friend.”
I smirk, liking where this is going. “Ask me anything,” I tease as she slides that beautiful ass onto a seat at the counter, dangling one long leg seductively. “Go on. Anything.”
She takes a sip of wine, savoring it with a moan that I feel in my cock. “Okay. Do your parents love to brag about their successful son?”
My lips curve into a sad smile. “My parents died when I was young. They’ve been gone for quite some time.”
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t know.”
My smile turns genuine. “It’s refreshing that you didn’t. Most people think they know everything about me.”
“Everything?”
I nod. “So, is it safe to say you haven’t googled me?”
“Well,” she says, tossing her head from side to side, “I am a detective. But I’m not into celebrities, except Gil Grissom. He makes law enforcement look good. Really good.” She laughs at my shocked expression. “What? He does! And he’s smart.”
Seeing this side of her endears her to me. It’s a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor. It also keeps her off the topic of my childhood. Her eyes light up as she talks about the fictional CSI character, and I’m captivated by her genuine excitement.
“Gil Grissom, huh?” I say, leaning across the marble island to peer into her eyes. “I never pegged you for an old crime show enthusiast. Though I suppose it makes sense, given your line of work.”
Frankie's cheeks redden, but she doesn’t back down. “What can I say? Old crime shows are my guilty pleasure. And Grissom……well, he’s in a league of his own.”
I put this info in the back of my mind. The little details, the unexpected quirks, make Frankie all the more intriguing to me. I wonder what other surprises she has in store.