Page 5 of Fall Into Temptation
“Why are you in my t-shirt?” he countered.
Ah, crap. She’d forgotten what she was wearing.
“I, uh. What makes you think this is yours? It’s my ex-boyfriend’s,” she insisted. She was nothing if not creative on her feet.
Donovan grabbed her by the shoulders, his hands a warm shock through the cotton. He spun her around. “Your ex-boyfriend is part of the Blue Moon PD?” he asked, reading the type across her back.
“I need coffee,” Eva said, wiggling out of his grip. She couldn’t think when she was being manhandled by Sheriff Sexy and his big, sexy hands. “Do you want coffee?”
She skirted the tiny island, grateful to have a barrier between them, and sniffed the still-full pot. She’d gotten sucked into work and never bothered to pour the first cup.
“Sure,” he drawled.
Eva looked over her shoulder to shoot him a frown at the tolerant amusement she heard. Unfortunately, she misjudged her distance from the cabinet and opened the door into her face.
“Ouch.” She rubbed absently at her eye and reached for the mugs. But those big hands appeared above her, fishing two mugs out of the cabinet.
“Sit before you dump a full pot of hot coffee all over yourself,” he ordered, hip checking her out of the way.
The good sheriff clearly knew nothing about women. The order to sit made standing a much more appealing position.
Donovan must have read the rebellion in her eyes. “Sit or no coffee,” he said sternly.
“It’s my coffee,” she pointed out.
“And I’ll be happy to share it with you if you sit your ass down and stop making me nervous.”
“Imakeyounervous?” She laughed at the irony and slid onto a barstool.
“I feel like you’re one second away from swinging a frying pan at me or falling through a window.” He set a mug down in front of her, and she reached for the sugar bowl—a whimsical mermaid—she kept on the island.
While she dumped sugar into her cup, he opened the freezer and plucked out a handful of ice cubes which he wrapped up in her purple dish towel. “Here. Ice your face.”
She did what she was told only because her face did hurt.
“Do you want to file a police report against the cabinet?” he asked, picking up his coffee.
She gave a small laugh. “No. I think I can work things out with it. It didn’t mean it.”
“That’s what all cabinet doors say,” Donovan said, a hint of a smile playing on his gorgeous lips. He looked like a Ken doll come to life. Dirty blond hair cut short for convenience, sharp blue eyes that told her they could peel away lies to get to the truth, and shoulders that would make a linebacker weep. He was big, solid, and oh-so-sexy.
Usually, the guys she ended up dating were leaner, more of the medium height and medium build type. Then again, the guys she usually dated were also usually assholes. Donovan—the opposite of an asshole—was taking up her entire kitchen just standing with his feet planted apart. His uniform fit him so well she wondered if he had it tailored to show off those pecs, those biceps.
Great. Now she was drooling.
Eva cleared her throat. “You may have said it when you came in, but I was busy screaming. Why are you here?” she asked.
He gave her a half smile that had her underwear combusting when the dimple appeared at the side of his mouth. She put her coffee down. She didn’t need a warm up. She needed a cold shower.
“I brought your stuff from the store.” He nodded toward a plastic bag on the floor just inside the door.
On cue, Eva’s phone rang from the depths of the bag.
“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asked.
“It’s just someone who wants to tell me they saw me almost naked on Facebook today.” He looked away from her and became engrossed studying the pictures plastered all over the front of her fridge. “Please tell me this isn’t the most embarrassing gossip group post in town history.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you. You’ve lived here long enough to know what catches the eye of Mooners.”
