Страница 6 из 56
She paused again, and he could picture her licking her lips and shoring up her confidence before continuing.
“I hate to inconvenience you, but is there any chance you could come out and take a look? I’d just die if Aunt Charlotte came home from her trip to a house that looked like it barely survived a hurricane.”
Gage’s brain was still slogging along, trying to process the fact that his ex-wife was on the phone and that she’d called him willingly. Not only willingly, but to ask him for a favor. It was like an episode of The Twilight Zone, and that do-do-do-do do-do-do-do theme started to echo in his head.
Scratching his chest through the worn cotton of his T-shirt, he cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, okay. Sure.”
He checked his watch, calculated the distance to Charlotte Langan’s isolated farm house from his apartment in the city, and added, “Give me half an hour.”
When Je
There was a loud click and then he was left with nothing but a dial tone buzzing in his ear.
Ten minutes later, boots and jacket on, Gage walked to his older-model, nondescript, gray unmarked car, small metal tool box in hand. He didn’t know a lot about plumbing, but he figured he could tighten a few fittings or replace a pipe or two, if needed, just to get Je
The real problem wasn’t how he’d manage to fix a leaky faucet, but how he was going to handle being alone with Je
And he didn’t know who he should be more concerned for. Je
Je
Grace made a sound that was half squeak, half giggle, and both she and Ro
“Okay, let’s get moving. Ro
Oh, God, the bedroom.
This was crazy. It was insane. How had they ever come up with such an off-the-wall idea?
Unfortunately, Je
So she would have to go forward with Phase Two of Operation Knock-Me-Up as pla
Thank goodness Grace and Ro
Finished in the bedroom and bathroom, she and Grace hurried back downstairs just as Ro
“Everything set?” Ro
Not the least bit anxious about what they were doing, Grace gave a cheerful, “Yep,” and skirted around them back to the kitchen.
Digging through her purse, she pulled out a flat plastic tray of tiny white pills. “Get me a couple bottles of beer and two teaspoons,” she ordered, begi
Ro
“Remember,” she told Je
Je
If she messed this up, if anything went wrong… Well, she would never get another chance like this one, she was sure.
The rumble of an engine coming up the road sent her heart into palpitations. “Oh, boy, I think he’s here.”
Almost as a single entity, the three women froze, then drew ragged breaths into their lungs.
“Okay, this is it,” Grace said, giving Je
Je
Ro
While Je
A second later he pounded again, and she decided puking up her guts would have to wait. Forcing herself to move, she headed for the door and yanked it open, hoping her face didn’t look as flame-hot as it felt. Hoping her mouth would work even though it felt stuffed with cotton. Hoping her heart wouldn’t pound its way out of her chest at the mere sight of Gage standing there, looking better than a wi
No matter how long they’d been separated or how many other men she’d gone out with before or after him, he was still the handsomest man she’d ever seen. Towering over her at around six-foot-three, he was built like a great oak, all broad planes and thick muscles.
His face was a collection of hard angles and gorgeous, masculine features. Brown eyes that could go from pleasant to murky and back without warning, surrounded by lashes longer and softer than any man deserved. A hint of five o’clock shadow outlined his jaw, making him look more menacing than usual.
If that were even possible. With his black biker boots, worn leather jacket, and a physique that would put The Rock to shame, the man all but oozed danger from every pore. He might as well have had a blinking red WARNING! label stamped on his forehead.
Which, of course, she’d always found amazingly attractive. Maybe it had something to do with his being almost twice her size, or how safe and protected he made her feel, but the qualities Gage possessed that made most people quake had always turned her on. Big time.
At the moment, his dark brown hair was military short, just starting to grow in from having been shaved to the skin. He’d been known to let it grow out well past his shoulders, too, though, tying it back with a rubber band or thin strip of leather.
It depended, she knew, on what type of case he was working. When they’d first met and married, he’d been a uniformed officer for the Cleveland Police Department. Soon after, though, he’d transferred to vice and started working undercover. Short stints at first that gradually grew longer and longer.