Читать книгу Her Perfect Proposal - Lynne Marshall - Страница 10

Chapter Four

Saturday afternoon Lilly had a long talk with herself. Evidently her ethics regarding getting the story at all costs were in the tank. She never wanted to be caught in such a vulnerable position as getting tipsy in a strange bar, or having to accept a ride home on a motorcycle with a man she barely knew, again. But good thing Gunnar had been there like she’d planned.

He was a law-enforcement officer and from what she’d observed, a well-respected guy. A guy making up for the sins of his father? Maybe. Most important, he was a gentleman.

The problem was she’d lost focus on her plans drinking those beers. She’d shared far too much with Gunnar about her personal life. Did he really need to know about what a disappointment she’d been to her parents? And, as far as she was concerned—and she was sure her mother would agree with her—she’d nearly made a fool out of herself telling him the Christmas doll story, then followed that up with getting a little tipsy. What must he think?

It wouldn’t happen again. Couldn’t.

But she had to admit, she’d had a great time hanging out with Gunnar, and she’d surprised herself initiating the kiss, which had been more than she’d ever expected. Wow. That’s why it couldn’t happen again. She couldn’t let Gunnar get in the way of her plans. So Sunday afternoon, when she’d absentmindedly picked up her cell phone to search for his phone number, she’d stopped. What was she thinking?

On Monday, she put her best foot forward with her new boss, Mr. Bjork. She’d come to work with a gazillion ideas, each of which he’d nixed until she’d brought up doing a human interest story about the local animal controller, Kirby Nylund. Carl Bjork’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. Perhaps he had a soft spot for pets?

Bjork also put her on assignment regarding the local firemen and a slew of recent Dumpster fires around town and along the railroad tracks. Now she felt like part of the reporting team.

Unfortunately, the police department was just across the hall, and both the newspaper and PD offices were on either side of the lobby, their front walls being all glass, making it difficult to avoid Gunnar. Once or twice that morning she’d already seen him enter the building in all of that law-enforcement-officer splendor, filling out the perfectly ironed uniform, and sporting the low-slung duty belt, shiny badge and cop sunglasses. Totally out of character, after gawking at him she’d ducked down at her desk, below the chair-rail cubical partition in order not to be seen, and in the process had garnered more than a few odd looks from Bjork and his skeleton newspaper staff. What was it about Gunnar that caused her to repeatedly make a fool out of herself?

Until she figured out how best to handle the big friendly—and sexy—cop, she’d avoid him like a bad story. Since Gunnar might be the source of her future news flash, Lilly couldn’t risk getting personally involved with him, compromising the story.

But no matter how busy she’d kept herself over the past few days, bits and pieces from their fun night together—she really had to admit the bar had been the most fun she’d had in years—haunted her quiet moments. She remembered touching his face and kissing him, surprised how tender his lips were, and thinking wow, just wow, this guy was something else. He might look big and tough, but he kissed like she was the most delicate creature on earth. Then she remembered that big ol’ red flag popping into her brain... Careful, Lilly, this one could be a heartbreaker for sure.

With all her big-city ways, she might give the impression of sophistication and world wisdom, but in reality she’d spent so much time and energy pursuing her studies and job, not to mention trying to please her parents, that she’d yet to figure out how to make time for relationships. Whatever “relationship” meant.

She’d dated a few men here and there, but nothing came close to being serious. Who had time?

Anyway, Lilly Matsuda had far more important things to do than get all infatuated with a bossy cop.

Just before lunch, grateful to hit the beat, she grabbed the strap of her purse, thrust her trusty notepad and mini recorder inside, and set out, taking the back exit to avoid the big Swedish sergeant with eyes the color of pine trees.

She’d learned well from her demanding parents that nothing must stand in the way of your goal, and Gunnar Norling was not her goal, no matter how appealing he was.

* * *

Even though Lilly lived in a hotel, it was an extended stay and she had a small kitchen with a half refrigerator, hot plate and a microwave. Just like in college. Since she’d run out of breakfast cereal and a few feminine items, Tuesday night she stopped in at the local market chain, the only place in town that didn’t carry a Scandinavian name. She pushed her cart toward aisle ten. Having just grabbed the special hair gel she’d run out of that morning, she now loaded up on the items she needed for that time of the month. After that she’d buy some fruit and cereal, oh, and she couldn’t forget the milk.

Just before leaving the aisle, something caught her eye. Condoms.

A certain handsome face came to mind. Gunnar.

Hmm...what if?

He’s not your goal. Remember.

Another thought overrode the first.

She was a modern girl. Shouldn’t she be prepared if the occasion ever arrived? Looking at the small box of extra fancy condoms, “ribbed with heating lubrication,” on impulse, she picked them up, read the back cover, then tossed them into her cart and moved on.

Rounding the corner, focused on the task of groceries, she nearly ran into another shopping cart. “Oh, sorry!”

Lilly glanced up to see Gunnar holding a couple of packages of deodorant, one in each hand, as if making the biggest decision of his life, and looking as surprised as she must have running into him.

“Hey,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.” He’d made his choice and put one brand back on the shelf.

“I needed a few things.” She couldn’t help herself, and looked into his cart loaded with food items and paper products. The guy obviously lived on his own, judging by the contents of his cart, not one feminine thing to be found.

“So how’ve you been?” He looked honestly interested.

“Very well, thank you. How about you?” Hide the condoms! How was she supposed to do that without being obvious?

“Not bad. Breaking into that new job?”

“Yes,” she said, edging from behind the cart to alongside it, then standing in front of it altogether. Unfortunately, this put her in much closer proximity to him. Close enough to see those green, green eyes. “Bjork’s teaching me the ropes and sending me out on assignments.”

“Good. Good.” The guy looked as if he wanted to settle in and have a real conversation, his expression inquisitive and his brows mildly furrowed, yet he held back. And she held her breath, preoccupied with the condoms and him not noticing them. Were they destined to discuss the weather?

“Anything new or exciting going on in the police department?” She broke the lingering moment of silence and as she spoke leaned against the front of the cart, surreptitiously moving her other hand behind her, searching around, hoping to make contact with the naughty little box. But the cart was too deep. The condoms were out of her reach. Whatever possessed her to buy them, anyway?

“No breaking news.” He smiled, imparting the obvious—he wouldn’t tell her anything if there was, and she could count on that. “How about you?”

“Nope. No breaking stories.” She glanced at Gunnar, the handsome homegrown stud in fitted jeans and a blue plaid flannel shirt. Her cheeks warmed. She needed to get away from him. This was the guy she’d kissed with all of her heart the other night, and even though she’d been a little under the influence at the time, she’d really wanted to. That kiss had influenced her thoughts just moments ago. Now she’d been caught buying condoms. Wouldn’t that go right to his head. Oh, not that head!

Her warming cheeks advanced into an all-out hot-from-the-neck-up affront.

Lilly shook her head, hoping to clear out all the crazy thoughts. Get away. Go. Now! “Well, I better get over to the produce aisle. A girl needs her five pieces of fruit a day.”

“Sure thing.” He glanced toward her cart, but couldn’t see around her. “The apples are good this time of year. But here’s a tip, they’re much better at the farmer’s market every Sunday afternoon. Our local growers are best.”

Always up for a good story, she searched in her purse for the notepad, ready to scribble a reminder for that coming Sunday farmer’s market, unmanning her cart. “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

He glanced into her cart and with a twinkle in his eyes nailed her when she glanced up again. Damn. He’d seen them.

He winked and scratched the corner of his mouth. She could read his face so easily it was sad—Hmm, you planning on using those with me?