Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [88]
“After so many years of being alone, of not really having anyone I cared all that much about, my life is starting to feel a bit crowded right now.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t know. It seems that the more people in your life, the more complicated your life becomes.”
“Well, then, here’s something else to think about. Things are about to become even more complicated.”
She leaned down and kissed his mouth softly, first one side, then the other.
“Consider me part of that crowd who wants in,” she whispered, then kissed him again, hungrily.
Sean pulled her against his chest, his mouth meeting hers, his tongue teasing the inside of her lips until she thought she was going to implode with the heat.
“This is a complication I can handle,” he whispered into her ear.
“That’s good, because I’ve decided to stick around for a while.”
He slid his hands up and down her back, needing her warmth and her softness. Needing more of her mouth, more of her sighs, more of her hands on him. He shifted her so that she was facing him and drew her down and into him as closely as he could, caressing her until her head was swimming, her body adrift in sensation. His lips moved across her throat, a steady line of kisses that moved ever downward. She leaned her head back, exposing her neck, urging him to take more.
They barely heard his cell phone when it rang.
“Shit,” he grumbled, then reached into his pocket, his mouth still on her skin.
“Yeah,” Amanda sighed.
He leaned his head back against the chair and studied her face while he listened to the caller. “All right. I’m on my way.” He turned off the phone. “I, ah, have to go.”
“I figured as much.” She pulled away and slowly stood up, her legs slightly numb.
“There’s been an accident out on Harkins Road.”
She nodded. “You’re the chief of police. I understand.”
“There’s a cruiser parked outside. I’m not leaving you unguarded. The house is being watched.”
“I know.” She buttoned his shirt and straightened his collar. “You’re a bit disheveled.”
“Hold that thought . . .” He smiled and kissed her before heading out the door.
“I’ll be here,” she said as he went through it, then she moved to the window to watch him hurry down the drive to his car. “I’m not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY
“Vinnie, what are you doing here?” An obviously pleased Dolores smiled at him in the mirror, then turned to touch his arm, her eyes alive with pleasure at his unexpected arrival at her shop.
“I missed seeing you yesterday,” he said, returning the smile, “so I thought I’d stop in and check out this little business of yours.”
His glance traveled the room, one end to the other, assessing his surroundings. There were six stations, each with a nice work counter, large wall mirror, and the obligatory swivel chair. All very standard, even to the black-and-white patterned linoleum on the floor. The walls were painted a pale pastel pink, the furniture in the dryer section black vinyl, and the receptionist area a high counter with a phone, appointment book, and small stack of business cards. Photos of pretty women with elaborate hairstyles and makeup lined the walls.
“Nice, babe. Very, very nice.” He nodded his approval.
“Thanks. We’re really proud of it, me and Connie.” She beamed. “We worked real hard for a long time to get this place together. Right now it’s just the two of us, but we’re hoping to hire someone to do manicures part-time for the holidays. And eventually we’d like to have a receptionist. We’re doing our own phone work and bookings for the time being. But we have big dreams, Vinnie.”
“And there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll make all those dreams come true.” He patted her on the back affectionately, then winked at the woman upon whose head Dolores was applying some sort of goop. “Talented as you and Connie are, you know you’re going to be a big success here.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.” Dolores turned back to her client and resumed spreading the light-colored stuff on top of her head. “I can talk but I have to keep going here. We don’t want Mrs.