Page 61
Story: Walking the Edge
“What’s a panini?” Mitch scowled.
“It’s Italian for a sandwich. You put cheese or meat between two pieces of bread and stick the whole thing in a press sort of like a waffle iron.” Was she really discussing this? With Mitch Guidry?
She would talk about anything to keep from noticing every little thing about him.
“You ever eat one?” He made more adjustments, his fingers grazing her bare neck. Again. But if he lifted an eyebrow this time, she didn’t care.
“No.” Her kitten noisily crunched her dry food. Food. Keep talking about food. “But you pick up things from books.”
“What do you read?”
“Fantasy. Romance.”
Mitch went still.
She flicked a gaze to his face. “What?”
“The people in these novels talk about paninis?”
“Sometimes. Not the sci-fi.” She could not turn her head without her lips skimming his hand on the shoulder strap. Instead, she slanted a glance at his chiseled features and his focused gaze, so intimidating at first. Would he make love with the same single-minded concentration? A quiver vibrated through her. Don’t think about that now.
He stepped back to prop his hands on his trim hips. “Try walking now.”
“This thing looks thick enough to stop a cannonball.” She Frankensteined over to the mirror and turned sideways. “Does this make me look fat?”
He rubbed his chin.
“Come on, tell me. Does it?”
“Who’s going to care?” He shook her head. “Reach for your holster now.”
She swung her arms to her waist. This time her fingers found her belt. “I can get to it.”
“Load your weapon.” He rummaged in the closet and tossed her a sweatshirt. “See if this will cover everything.”
Weapon. She cradled the soft, fleecy fabric but couldn’t move. “Do you think Les will have a weapon?”
“As far as we know, he’s still got your knife.”
That wouldn’t be effective against guns. Guns. She shuddered. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”
“We’re doing this together.” He stripped off his underarm holster and tee. “You have to listen to me. Follow my lead.”
Were they back to my-way-or-the-highway? She stiffened. “I should have some input. I’ve been in a few dicey situations.”
“A few?” He covered up those beautiful abs with a clean shirt. “I’ve had fourteen years’ worth.”
With his toned and fit body, she’d thought Mitch closer to her age, but he must be a few years older. She could definitely see the fourteen years in his attitude. “I thought we were a team?”
“A team will founder and sink if no one’s in charge.”
She pushed her pride behind her and sat on it. “Okay, teammate. I have to watch you. Follow your instructions. Anything else?”
“We want to avoid an accidental encounter with the drug dealer. Let’s keep to the shadows and see if your brother shows.”
“He better.”
* * *
“It’s Italian for a sandwich. You put cheese or meat between two pieces of bread and stick the whole thing in a press sort of like a waffle iron.” Was she really discussing this? With Mitch Guidry?
She would talk about anything to keep from noticing every little thing about him.
“You ever eat one?” He made more adjustments, his fingers grazing her bare neck. Again. But if he lifted an eyebrow this time, she didn’t care.
“No.” Her kitten noisily crunched her dry food. Food. Keep talking about food. “But you pick up things from books.”
“What do you read?”
“Fantasy. Romance.”
Mitch went still.
She flicked a gaze to his face. “What?”
“The people in these novels talk about paninis?”
“Sometimes. Not the sci-fi.” She could not turn her head without her lips skimming his hand on the shoulder strap. Instead, she slanted a glance at his chiseled features and his focused gaze, so intimidating at first. Would he make love with the same single-minded concentration? A quiver vibrated through her. Don’t think about that now.
He stepped back to prop his hands on his trim hips. “Try walking now.”
“This thing looks thick enough to stop a cannonball.” She Frankensteined over to the mirror and turned sideways. “Does this make me look fat?”
He rubbed his chin.
“Come on, tell me. Does it?”
“Who’s going to care?” He shook her head. “Reach for your holster now.”
She swung her arms to her waist. This time her fingers found her belt. “I can get to it.”
“Load your weapon.” He rummaged in the closet and tossed her a sweatshirt. “See if this will cover everything.”
Weapon. She cradled the soft, fleecy fabric but couldn’t move. “Do you think Les will have a weapon?”
“As far as we know, he’s still got your knife.”
That wouldn’t be effective against guns. Guns. She shuddered. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”
“We’re doing this together.” He stripped off his underarm holster and tee. “You have to listen to me. Follow my lead.”
Were they back to my-way-or-the-highway? She stiffened. “I should have some input. I’ve been in a few dicey situations.”
“A few?” He covered up those beautiful abs with a clean shirt. “I’ve had fourteen years’ worth.”
With his toned and fit body, she’d thought Mitch closer to her age, but he must be a few years older. She could definitely see the fourteen years in his attitude. “I thought we were a team?”
“A team will founder and sink if no one’s in charge.”
She pushed her pride behind her and sat on it. “Okay, teammate. I have to watch you. Follow your instructions. Anything else?”
“We want to avoid an accidental encounter with the drug dealer. Let’s keep to the shadows and see if your brother shows.”
“He better.”
* * *
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