January Thaw (The Murder-By-Month Mysteries) by Jess Lourey Page A

smile fell off my face and landed with a thud at my feet (which, by the way, would benefit from a run-over with a shaver, too). Luna hurried up to sniff my hand but I was in too much shock to pet her. Tiger Pop, my calico kitty, was draped across the back of the couch so as better to witness my humiliation, I imagine.
    “Too presumptuous?” he asked, coming around the kitchen counter.
    I was immensely relieved to see that he was, in fact, wearing low-slung Levis. The denim hugged his lean hips perfectly, showcasing his sculpted abdomen dusted with a light trail of hair. His chest was perfection, broad and muscled, and his rippled arms made me want to drop my own clothes. He held a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his beautiful, strong hands. And oh dear god, had he used the word presumptuous ? I was used to dating men who didn’t use a hand towel let alone four-syllable words.
    “You look delicious,” I said.
    He kept walking toward me, his lip quirking. “What?”
    Had I said that out loud? “It smells delicious! It . It smells delicious. What are you making?” I glanced at the chopped vegetables and herbs gracing my counter, a swirl of reds, greens, and oranges. It really did smell amazing. “And how long have you been here?”
    He glanced at his wristwatch, and I swear my pants melted a little. Something about a naked-chested man wearing a watch drove me crazy. “About an hour. I knew you had a double-shift today, the library and then the paper. I wanted to surprise you with dinner. I picked up the kitchen and living room, too. I hope you don’t mind.”
    I glanced around the plant-filled living room, searching for the camera crew. Somehow, I could get my head around having a hot, shirtless man offer me champagne and home-cooked dinner. It was the picking-up comment that made me finally realize that Johnny was a robot planted in my life six months ago to study the Dorkus Allthetimeus in her natural habitat.
    “For real?”
    His smile grew wider, and now he was near enough to smell. I didn’t know if he actually wore cologne or if his natural scent was clean and spicy, like fresh-ground cinnamon. He locked eyes with mine, his so blue I swear I could see fish swimming in them. His smile changed into something a little more animal, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
    My heartbeat picked up. He leaned forward and placed his mouth on mine, warm and confident. My back arched and I leaned into him, feeling the impossible heat of his hard body against mine.
    He held the two champagne glasses in one hand and the unopened bottle in the other. My hands, however, were free. I unzipped my jacket and let it drop to the floor. Then, I touched his chest lightly, trailing my fingertips down, around his waist, up his strong spine, and then back down to hook into his jeans and pull his hips tight against mine. I was trying to remember why I’d ever thought it’d be a good idea to hold him at arm’s length. It felt so much better to have him close.
    His kisses grew deeper, and I sent one hand to his thick hair and the other to his tight butt. He made a low sound in his throat, like a growl. I ground my hips ever so slightly, and he almost dropped the champagne glasses.
    “I need my hands,” he said huskily.
    I couldn’t agree more. He set the bottle and glasses on the living room table. His body was only gone from mine for a second, but the loss of heat felt like an ache. I was back in his arms in a moment. He wound one hand into my hair and the other at the base of my back and was kissing me like his life depended on it. I felt his hips swivel, followed by a gentle push as he steered us toward the bedroom, not pausing in his passion. I was completely wrapped in his strength and his scent and his heat. I would have taken him right there by the front door, but at least one of us was hanging on to their wits. Nothing like glancing up to see a cat and a dog watching like they’re taking notes to kill the moment.
    He