Come Fly With Me (55 page)

That
woke
her
up.
"Even
when
you're
pleasuring
me,
you're
always
thinking
about
yourself,"
she
bit
out
as
she
bolted
off
the
bed.

He
flopped
back
against
the
pillows,
"Of
course,
I
never
pretended
to
be
a
choir
boy."

She
looked
around
the
room
for
something
to
throw
at
him,
but
she
came
up
empty.

"I'd
lock
the
bathroom
door
if
I
were
you.
Standing
there
in
the
middle
of
the
room,
your
hair
all
tousled,
your
eyes
lookin'
all
satisfied,
I
have
half
a
mind
to
join
you
in
that
shower."

"You,"
she
pointed
at
him,
"Stay
right
there."

"Yes,
Ma'am,"
he
said
as
he
walked
slowly
toward
her.

"Alex,
I
mean
it."

"No.
You
don't."

He
backed
her
up
to
the
wall.
He
leaned
his
head
down
and
kissed
her.
For
a
long
time.
He
ran
his
fingers
along
her
slender
neck,
slowly
and
lovingly.

"I
just
take
some
getting
used
to,"
he
smiled.
"Now
hurry
in
that
shower,
I
smell
some
mighty
fine
bacon
sizzling
in
Mrs.
Morrison's
kitchen."

Allison
cursed
him
and
herself
about
a
hundred
times
as
she
hastily
dashed
into
the
shower
and
scrubbed
her
body—the
same
body
that
had
betrayed
her
a
few
minutes
ago.
What
was
it
about
him
that
unnerved
her
so
much?
Her
stomach
grumbled
in
protest,
and
she
dressed
hastily,
anxious
to
check
out
the
weather
and
then
head
out
as
soon
as
possible.
She
had
to
come
up
with
a
way
to
get
rid
of
Alex.
Maybe,
if
she
was
lucky,
there
would
be
an
emergency
at
the
office,
and
she'd
be
able
to
send
him
back.
Her
head
was
beginning
to
pound
and
her
earlier
languor
was
replaced
with
short,
determined
movements.

She
came
out
of
the
bathroom
fully
clothed
and
saw
that
Alex
had
the
good
sense
to
be
wearing
his
shirt
while
he
waited
for
his
turn.
He
flipped
his
phone
onto
the
small
table,
"No
reception
here,
maybe
there's
some
trouble
with
the
lines."

"We'll
figure
it
out.
But
hurry,
I'm
anxious
to
hear
what
Detective
Fitzsimmons
has
to
tell
me.
I'll
be
downstairs
grabbing
a
quick
coffee.
We'll
leave
as
soon
as
you're
ready,"
she
said
over
her
shoulder
as
she
bolted
from
the
room,
careful
to
keep
her
eyes
straight
ahead.
She
heard
Alex's
chuckle
follow
her
down
the
stairs
and
resolved
to
pelt
him
with
a
dozen
snowballs
the
first
chance
she
got.

"Becca,
good
morning,"
Allison
rolled
her
shoulders
in
an
attempt
to
release
her
tension.
"That
coffee
smells
amazing."

"Did
you
sleep
well?"
Becca
asked.

"Yes,
the
room
was
perfect.
The
bed
is
really,
really
soft,"
Allison
paused
as
she
added
sugar
to
her
coffee.
"The
handyman's
room
has
no
heat.
You
might
want
to
mention
that
to
your
son."

"I
know,"
Becca
said
as
she
put
a
blueberry
muffin
on
a
plate
and
handed
it
to
Allison.

Allison
stared
at
her
and
said,
"Did
Alex
put
you
up
to
that?"

"No.
Not
at
all.
Actually,
he
came
back
down
here
last
night
to
ask
me
if
I'd
be
offended
if
he
stayed
with
you.
He's
a
perfect
gentleman."

"He
picks
and
chooses
when
to
be
a
gentleman,
don't
be
fooled."
Allison
tried
to
fight
back
the
blush
as
it
crept
onto
her
face.

Becca
put
down
her
mug
and
reached
over
to
touch
Allison's
arm,
"Please
forgive
my
meddling.
But
I'm
putting
on
my
mother
hat,
here.
I
don't
know
you
at
all,
and
I'll
probably
never
see
you
again,
so
that
gives
me
some
license
to
overstep.
When
a
man
looks
at
a
woman
the
way
he
looks
at
you,
well,
that
woman
would
be
a
fool
to
throw
him
away
like
yesterday's
news.
Just
ask
him
what
he
wants."

Allison
sighed,
"I
know
what
he
wants.
It's
complicated."

"All
the
good
ones
are,
dear."

An
hour
later,
they
pulled
up
in
front
of
the
police
station.
Alex
turned
off
the
engine
and
reached
for
the
door.
Allison
put
her
hand
on
his
arm,
"Please,
wait
a
second."