Page 40 of Bachelor Cop Finally Caught? (Hot off the Press! 2)

He looked over his shoulder. “It’s all under control. Almost ready.”

She moved toward the cupboard. “I’ll set the table.”

“I’ll get it. You sit down.”

“Dan,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “if I don’t start moving around, I’m going to be as stiff as an ironing board. Now get out of the way and let me set the table.”

He moved. Lindsey was very careful to conceal every wince and grimace as she took plates and glasses from the cabinets and silverware from its drawer. If Dan spotted the first sign of weakness, he was likely to pick her up and carry her to the couch.

As tempting as that prospect was, she suspected it would only lead to further frustration on her part.

Dan had prepared omelets and biscuits for their brunch. Lindsey poured orange juice and filled coffee cups while he set the food and condiments on the table. They made a good team, she thought wistfully. Almost as if they’d been making breakfast together for a long time.

“This looks great,” she said, trying to distract herself.

“I hope it tastes that way.” He held her chair for her. “Will you sit now?”

“Yes.” She slid into the chair and smiled at him. “Thank you, sir.”

Did he linger there just a bit longer than necessary? She couldn’t read his face when he stepped away. She only wished he hadn’t been in such a hurry to move out of reach.

To Dan’s relief the food did taste as good as it looked. His phone rang twice during the meal. Both times he gave Lindsey an apologetic look, answered and dealt swiftly with the business on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry,” he said after disconnecting the second call. “I really can’t turn off the phone.”

“Nor would I expect you to,” she answered promptly. “I certainly don’t mind you doing your job, Dan.”

He gave a grim, humorless smile. “Melanie went ballistic every time I got a call when I was off duty. She always took it personally.”

The sudden silence from the other side of the table made him abruptly aware of what he’d just said. It was the first time in two and a half years he’d mentioned his ex-wife’s name. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly brought her up now, but he sincerely wished he hadn’t.

“Yeah, well, I’m not Melanie,” Lindsey said gruffly, keeping her gaze on her plate. “Actually, I’m surprised my own phone hasn’t been ringing off the hook.”

He cleared his throat. Something about the sound must have implied guilt, because she looked up at him suspiciously and said, “What?”

“I turned your phone ringer off,” he confessed. “Your machine’s picking up calls.”

She sat back in her chair and raised her eyebrows at him. “You turned off my phone?”

“I wanted you to sleep as long as you could.”

Before she could say anything, he held up both hands. “I know. It was a very

arrogant and high-handed thing for me to do, and I should have consulted you first.”

“Actually, I was going to say thank you,” she startled him by saying mildly. She reached for her coffee cup. “I needed the sleep. I’ll check messages and return calls later.”

He regarded her warily. “No lecture about how you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself?”

“I am, of course. But I can accept an occasional thoughtful gesture.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He finished his meal and drained his coffee cup. “I’ll clean up in here while you check your messages, if you want. Don’t let anyone convince you to go to work today, though. Dr. Frank said you should take a day or two to recover from the jolt you took.”

“I heard him,” she reminded him. At least she didn’t waste her breath trying to argue with him about cleaning the kitchen. She’d probably figured out by now that she wasn’t going to change his mind about taking care of her today.

From what he overheard as he cleaned the kitchen, Lindsey’s calls were all from friends who had learned she’d been injured and wanted to check on her. He heard her return a few, then reset the machine. By that time he had finished the kitchen and joined her in the den.

She looked suspiciously at the glass of water he carried and the pill he held out in his other palm. “Time for your medicine,” he informed her. “It’s been six hours since you last had one.”

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