Nothing But Trouble by Trish Jensen Page B

she probably saw us leave.”
    “Nope,” Laura said.
    Just then Laura’s front door buzzer sounded. “I’ve got to go, but I want a full report tomorrow.”
    “All the details?”
    “Well, not every single one.”
    “Damn. They’re really good details.”
    “I’m sure.”
    Laura disconnected the cal and grabbed her robe, putting it on over her bra and panties. Then she walked to her door, tying the sash. Hitting the button, she said, “Yes?”
    “Ready, beautiful?”
    “Get your butt up here and check the baloney at the door,”
    she snapped, then buzzed him into the building.
    She stood there with arms crossed, ready to scold him for any number of reasons, but when she opened the door to his knock, they all flew out of her ears.
    He was just plain gorgeous. Those dimples were kil ers.
    And it didn’t hurt that he was holding a bouquet of white roses in his hands.
    His smile vanished, though, when he took in her appearance. “Are you sick?”
    “Of course I’m not sick,” she said, trying hard not to stare at those flowers. No one had ever given her roses before. “I just didn’t know what the heck you wanted me to wear.”
    “What do you have on under that robe?”
    “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
    “Definitely.”
    “Well, forget it.”
    “Can I come in, or do you want me to sit on the steps and wait?”
    “Oh! Well, yes, okay, come in.”
    She noted his attire. He was wearing casual blue navy slacks and a white oxford shirt. Okay, so not too casual, but not too dressy, either. He could have told her.
    “These are for you, by the way,” he said, holding out the flowers.
    Laura wanted to hug them to herself but didn’t consider that too dignified. “Oh . . . thank you. But I don’t have a vase.”
    “Do you have a pitcher? Or maybe a large glass?” 
    “Yes.” She handed the roses back to him. “Left hand cabinet. You can stick them in water while I get dressed.”
    He looked her over, and then he opened his mouth, a wicked light in his eyes. Laura quel ed any potential smart remark with a look. She whirled and stalked down the hal way to her bedroom.
    She dug through the mound of clothes on her bed and pulled out a calf-length denim skirt and a lime-colored blouse.
    Just to show him she didn’t consider this a particularly special event, she wore sneakers.
    Emerging from her bedroom, she found Brandon setting her glass water pitcher on her small dining table, the flowers arranged beautifully. Was there nothing this guy couldn’t do?
    “They’re wonderful,” Laura said, horrified there was a catch in her voice. She cleared her throat and added, “Thank you.”
    He straightened, smiling. “I would have bought red, but I didn’t want to jinx anything.”
    She didn’t know al that much about flower colors and their meaning, but she was almost certain that red was reserved for lovers. Which made his comment crystal clear. He ful y intended for them to become lovers. But it would have to be at her request.
    But somehow she had the feeling he had a persuasive argument in mind, and that it was going to come from his lips.
    But not necessarily with words.
    A shiver raced up her spine. And not the dreaded kind, either.
    Brandon strolled over to her jammed bookcases and began to peruse the titles. “It’s a darn shame you don’t like to read,” he commented dryly.
    She bristled at that. Her father had always made her feel like reading was a waste of time. A whimsy. She’d actually had to fib about her whereabouts whenever she’d made a trip to the library. “Everyone has a vice or two.”
    “A vice?” he said, looking puzzled. “I think it’s wonderful.”
    “You do?”
    “Sure. I love to read.” He pulled out a Grisham novel.
    “Legal thril ers are my favorite.”
    “I’m partial to mysteries myself.”
    “Wel , then, let’s go find some mysteries.” He put the book back then held out his hand. “Ready?”
    “As ready as I’l ever be.”

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    THEY’D