Page 24 of On the Chase
Hugh gestured at her soaked coveralls. “This incredibly fashion-forward look you have going here.”
Her finger hovered close to the trigger. So maybe he’d lose a little skin if she gave him a quick spray. Really, it was what he deserved. With a great effort of will, she kept the washer down at her side.
“You like it?” Posing with her free hand on her hip, she gave him her best sultry-model face. If she had to be stuck wearing wet coveralls and too-large rubber boots, then she was going to own the look.
He chuckled, although his gaze heated as he took her in. “Oh yeah. It’s kennel chic.”
“Right.” Dropping the pose, she frowned at him, trying to figure out why he was looking at her like he wanted to eat her. There was nothing appealing about her at the moment. She knew this even before she glanced down again, confirming the horrid state of her appearance. “I miss wearing pretty things.”
Immediately, his gaze sharpened. “Pretty things? Like what you used to wear to work? What did you do before in…Bangor?”
That slight pause reminded her that he was a cop—a cop who thought she was a liar. Tipping her head, she gave him a flirty look. “You want to know something?”
“Yeah. What?” He moved a half step closer, his inquisitive expression shifting to something a little…hungrier.
She smiled and leaned toward him. His gaze dropped to her lips. “I’m beginning to understand why someone would want to blow you up.”
To her surprise, he laughed. It made him even more stupidly attractive than usual, and Grace found herself unable to look away. “I’m told that a lot.”
Thrown off guard, she scrambled for a witty retort. “Maybe you should, you know, work on that.”
“Work on fixing my personality?” He leaned against the wall, and Grace gave a silent sigh. It looked as if he was settling in for a chat. As much as she welcomed an interruption from kennel cleaning, Hugh wasn’t her first pick. Whenever he was around, she felt strange, unsettled, almost jittery. He’d pop into her head at odd times, and just the thought of him sent a rush of adrenaline through her veins. It was…uncomfortable.
She realized that he was watching her with a tiny, knowing smile, and she tried to remember what they’d been talking about. “Whatever.” Grace figured that would cover most potential topics. “Why are you here?”
“Otto’s working with his latest project.”
“That explains whyhe’shere. Why areyouhere?”
He smirked. The man was impossible to offend. “I was bored, so I tagged along. It’s a good thing, too. We haven’t talked much lately. I was going to stop by to watchTattered Heartswith you again, but Theo gave me a little lecture about the importance of keeping my lockpicks in my pants.”
“What a shame,” she said flatly, proud of herself for not giving in and smiling. It was hard to resist Hugh’s easy charm. “Well, this was a nice chat. We’ll have to do it again sometime…or not.”
His grin grew, and it became harder to keep her deadpan expression in place. “Oh, our visit isn’t over. Otto won’t be done for a while yet. So tell me, Not-Grace, how long did you live in Bangor?”
“Almost two years.”
“And before that?”
“Austin, Texas.”
“For how long?”
“Eight months.”
“Before that?”
“Portland.”
“Maine or Oregon?”
“Oregon.”
“Do you ever tell the truth?”
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
He smiled at her—a long, slow, easy, predatory baring of his teeth. “I can tell when someone’s lying. It’s my superpower.”
