Blind: Killer Instincts by Sidney Bristol

of a cute expression on such a confident type of man. She grinned. Yeah, it was weird to bring a present to the guy she’d told to fuck off, but something about Detective Jacob Payton had stuck with her. She wasn’t going to fight it. Truth be told, she had too much merchandise on her hands right now from putting in long hours instead of hanging out with Derrick, so giving away one small piece would make room for another.
    “Uh.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry. What is it?”
    She tossed her head back and laughed. “It’s a lawn ornament. You put it out front, people look at it, think it’s pretty.”
    “Oh.” His gaze traveled over her, and her damn nerves danced up and down her spine. “I only got you dinner.”
    “I like dinner.” She shrugged.
    “Let’s put it out here.”
    She followed him to the lawn. He studied one side of the yard and then the other before finally deciding to position the sculpture in front of the large windows on the right side of the house and stood back to study it.
    “What exactly is it?” he asked, still sounding a bit perplexed.
    “I made the pedestal out of reclaimed metal. Those are all old mufflers. I wanted something to emulate clouds and dreaming. The crystal is supposed to absorb bad energy. Altogether it protects the house and residents from evil spirits, especially while you sleep.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have time to make a pig or a donut.”
    “Funny. Thanks.” He cracked a smile at that. It transformed his face, from hot to dead sexy.
    What do you know? He has a sense of humor.
    “You’re welcome. I figured I owed you an apology.” She mentally pulled herself together. It wasn’t fair that a guy flashing her a little teeth could knock her off her thoughts, but he had.
    She might not trust cops as a whole, but he might be okay. At least when she searched his name on the Internet there weren’t any viral videos of him beating people like other cops.
    “Come inside.” He placed his hand on the small of her back. The heat from his touch soaked into her skin, straight to her core. “I almost didn’t think you’d come.”
    “Let me grab the stuff from the truck first.”
    Jacob followed her to the passenger side and took the box before she could pick it up. She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it before she said a word. Jacob wasn’t Derrick. If a guy wanted to do something for her, she should let him.
    His hand went back on the small of her back. That one spot had some magical property she would never understand. It was as if a hand there short-circuited the rest of her cognitive ability until all she could think about was the point of contact. This wasn’t like her. She didn’t do the flirty, simpering girl routine. She was straightforward, direct, a little bawdy even. But her response to him was so different, it had her off-kilter.
    Jacob ushered her inside the house, through a man-cave of a living room in all brown leather and dark wood, and into a larger space that seemed to be a rec room of sorts. The country kitchen on her right was spacious and updated, while the corduroy sofas around the fireplace on her left looked inviting. There was also a pool table and a dining set that had that aged, hand-me-down look to it.
    “Nice place.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean skirt and turned around.
    “Thanks. It was my grandfather’s. He left it to my dad, but Dad didn’t need it, so I got it. It’s been a work in progress ever since. Have a seat.” He gestured to the bar stools lined up along the counter overlooking the kitchen. “Want anything to drink? Tea? Water? Beer?”
    “Beer,” she said as she slid onto one of the stools. A little liquid courage never hurt. Besides, it might calm her down a bit. Or something. She had the jitters bad.
    There was something charming about the sight of Jacob in the kitchen, barefoot, his hair mussed and hands massaging a chicken breast. Hell, the idea of a man in the kitchen