Page 17 of Heart Stopping
"Yes, you do," she said. "Wouldn't want to have any…accidents."
I grinned slowly. "Sweetheart, if you stabbed me, it would be on purpose."
She raised a single eyebrow. "Are you suggesting I should?"
That made me tip back my head and laugh. "Absolutely not. If anyone's doing any stabbing around here, it'll be me, with my cock."
"I told you that was one time." She started to walk past me.
My gaze lingered on her ass before I hurried to follow. "And I'm prepared to respect that."
She glanced over her shoulder. "Are you? First you appear on the fire escape?—"
I held out my hands. "Total coincidence."
She continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Then you turn up outside my restaurant."
"Because you intrigue me," I said. "And I'm curious what happened to our…mutual friend."
Now she stopped walking and glanced around, making sure no one could hear. "What do you think happened?"
"Pizza topping? Baked Alaska? Wait." I pointed a finger gun at her. "Tiramisu?"
"Do you even know what those things are?" she asked, giving me a funny look.
Ouch.
I lowered my hand. "I know what pizza toppings are. Ground beef, ham, bacon. I'm a meat lovers pizza kind of guy."
"I'll bear that in mind the next time you eat at my restaurant on pizza night," she said dryly.
"On second thoughts, maybe vegetarian pizza," I hedged. Ridding the world of people like Carl was one thing, digesting him was another.
Harlow snorted. "Unless you have a better method of…disposal. This leaves less evidence behind."
"What do you do with the—" I stopped, aware I was speaking a little too loud. In a whisper I added, "Bones."
She winced. "This isn't the place to talk about it."
I grinned again. "I completely agree with you. How far to your place?"
"You're not coming to my place," she said, looking like she was over this whole conversation. "I have to go. I need to be up early."
"You can come to my place then," I offered. Because I'm nothing if not generous. "I'll make sure you get some sleep."
Eventually. Like I said, generous.
"Boner," she said with a sigh.
"Harlow." I mimicked her tone. "We had a good time the other night, didn't we? And by that, I mean both other nights. I like you, you like me."
"Who says I like you?" She cocked her head at me again.
"Why wouldn't you, I'm very likable." I smiled pleasantly. "Also, we have things in common. Things we can't talk about with other people. I bet there's plenty you want to get off your chest." For once, I wasn't thinking about her breasts, or even looking at them.
Mostly.
Let's be real, though. People whose hobbies included casual homicide also needed a shoulder to cry on. Why shouldn't she cry on mine?
