Читать книгу Capturing the Cop - Michele Dunaway - Страница 12

Garrett Krause was Mr. Right Now, Olivia decided the moment she’d let him seat her at the table for two. When his fingers had skimmed her bare shoulder, a shiver had ricocheted through her and curled her toes. Whoa.

No man’s touch had ever made her react this way. She was alive. Free. And as much as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying, it was impossible when all she could do was watch his full lips move and wonder what they would taste like during a kiss. If Garrett could bottle his sexual magnetism, he could make a fortune.

She’d definitely chosen correctly. Making love to this man would be pure heat. Her two fiancés hadn’t even raised her temperature one degree by holding her hand. Garrett’s touch had her boiling.

She hoped that tonight that he’d touch her everywhere else.

She attempted to tamp down her desire as the waitress took Olivia’s order for iced tea. Olivia had noticed Garrett drinking the unsweetened beverage, and decided that, despite her desire to be really bad and have some alcoholic courage for the night ahead, being drunk was not the way to accomplish her goal. She had never handled liquor well, and with this man, one drink was liable to have her jumping on Garrett and yelling, “Do me now.”

Her desire to lose her virginity to this gorgeous man and thus cross over to the other side and into the womanhood club notwithstanding, climbing all over him was not how Olivia intended to seduce. She wanted the flesh-and-blood act to be wonderful, a thing of which memories were made. She wanted special; she required things on her terms. She’d let parents, religion and morals control her actions for a long time, but that didn’t mean she was planning on tossing all integrity aside tonight. Despite her desire to break free, be bad and not conform to the expectations with which she’d been raised, she did not want her first experience to be tawdry.

In the flesh, Garrett Krause was every woman’s fantasy, including hers. The red polo shirt he wore failed to conceal the toned body underneath. Golden-blond hair covered his tanned arms. Blue eyes to drown in held her gaze. His full lips had already sent his dimples creasing up toward high cheekbones.

And when his fingers touched her shoulders…Olivia struggled to pay attention to what he was saying and to keep her dangerous thoughts at bay.

“Have any trouble finding the place?” he asked.

“No,” Olivia said, grateful for the diversion of his question.

She automatically placed her napkin in her lap as the waitress provided Olivia’s iced tea and then refilled Garrett’s glass.

“I’ll bring you some more crackers, too,” she said, and picked up the basket that had more empty wrappers than full packages.

“I’m glad you got here okay,” Garrett said. He gestured toward the menu the waitress had left behind. “Shall we decide on some food?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Olivia picked up the menu, hiding herself behind it. She began to read the choices, although as Garrett’s legs tangled with hers and a heat burned between them, she didn’t comprehend one item on the menu.

“Sorry,” Garrett said as he moved his leg away.

“No problem,” Olivia replied. Yet, it was.

This had to be the most awkward moment of her life, besides maybe her first kiss. After a movie, fourteen-year-old Tommy Hinkins had planted one on her so fast that she’d swallowed her gum and started choking. Her father had performed the Heimlich maneuver, and then during the car ride home given her a biblical lecture on keeping her chastity. Not a very good way to end an evening.

If Olivia didn’t do something fast, this one was going to end just as poorly, without her having seduced anyone and reached her goal of becoming a real woman.

She put her menu down, only to find Garrett staring at her.

“What?” she managed to ask.

“Nothing,” Garrett said. He grinned sheepishly, his charm washing over her. “Sorry, I just like looking at your eyes. They’re unique.”

Now, that was a safe topic. “Everyone in my family has them. My grandfather, father and my brothers and sisters, except my stepsister and stepmother.”

“Interesting,” Garrett said. The waitress deposited a basket of dinner rolls instead of crackers. “The gene for blue eyes is recessive.”

Olivia gave a shrug. “I really don’t know.”

He shook his head, sending a wave of blond hair across his forehead. Olivia popped a piece of Melba toast into her mouth in order to remain poised. He smiled, and it seemed that something molten was running through her veins.

“Sorry,” Garrett said again, that grin never changing. “I have to admit I’m a detective at heart, which is why I’m a cop. I love problem solving, so math and science were always my favorite classes.”

“I’m not a math person,” Olivia replied, filing away that he’d told her his occupation.

“Most people aren’t. Let me guess. You were more of an English major.”

Olivia nervously touched her hand to the base of her throat as she tried to make a joke. “Does it show?”

Garrett laughed at that, and Olivia began to relax. “Nah. My English teachers never looked like you. If they had, I might have had second thoughts about my career.”

Olivia blushed. Okay, maybe she wasn’t so terrible at this seduction stuff after all.

Garrett reached for the iced tea in front of him. “So, for a living I solve problems, which in a nutshell tells you all about me. What about you? You work at the Monitor.”

“I’m in communications,” Olivia said. Explaining why she’d been at the newspaper office would take too long.

He studied her for a moment before shooting her a wicked grin. “So you do work with words.”

“Well, English was my favorite subject. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. My Barbie dolls were career women in media.” She gulped. One step forward, three steps back. To her ears, she’d sounded like a fool. “Great. Now you probably think I’m crazy.”

Olivia reached for a roll.

“No,” Garrett said. He set the iced-tea glass down and his own blue eyes twinkled. “No more crazy than me. I blew up my G.I. Joe dolls with firecrackers and shot cap pistols at them.”

Happiness consumed her. He’d said absolutely the perfect thing to keep her from feeling totally stupid. On other dates, if she had said something like that, the guy would have stared at her, an astonished expression on his face. She relaxed. “You seriously blew them up?”

A muscle in Garrett’s cheek twitched and he suppressed a laugh. Olivia resisted the urge to stroke the side of his face.

“I did. Seriously.” He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just like that kid in Toy Story. If I hadn’t been a grown man when I saw that movie, it would have given me nightmares for days.”

“You were like Sid.” She’d watched the movie several times with Bethany’s children, Olivia’s niece and nephew.

“Yep,” Garrett said without apology.

“So,” Olivia teased, “tell me. What other bad things did you do?”

FROM UNDER HIS LASHES, Garrett glanced at Olivia. Did she know the effect she was having on him? That dress left way too much to the imagination, and he found himself wanting to tear the cloth off her and see what was underneath. Her skin was smooth, with a natural color that didn’t come from tanning. Her smile lit up her whole face and her lips were full and kissable.

She’d be perfect; he knew it as sure as the sun rose in the east. Long pent-up desire that was all he was experiencing, he reassured himself. Just some lust, a normal male emotion. She made him want again. And, that was dangerous. His job required complete control, both mental and physical. Even with volatile Brenda in the mix, he’d mastered both—until tonight.

Olivia folded the menu and placed it on the table. A part of him tightened as she used those sexy lips to speak. “So, come on. What other bad things did you do?”

“Not too many,” Garrett admitted. “My dad was a police officer. So was my grandfather. I always had a fear of being too deviant. They both made sure I saw the inside of a jail very early.”

“Scared straight?”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m determined to bring good to the world and fight evil, all that superhero stuff. Fighting the bad guys is my calling.” He paused as a different waitress approached. “Hey, Liz.”

“Hey, Garrett,” Liz answered. “I’m taking over for Sue. Her boy’s sick so she’s going home. Are you two ready to order?”

“I think so. Crab legs, Olivia? They’re the best in town. Or would you like something else?”

“That sounds perfect,” she said. She never had read the menu.

“Bring us both the crab-leg special,” Garrett said, handing Liz his menu.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said, as she retrieved both menus and walked away.

Garrett glanced quickly around the room. It was bad enough that Cliff, Ben and Mason were twenty-five feet away, laughing about something. Now Liz, Melanie’s resident gossip, would fill his partners in on what he and Olivia had ordered.

Olivia took a long sip of iced tea. “You seem to know her well.”

Garrett nodded. “A bunch of us often eat here after work. Liz is co-owner. Melanie’s her sister.”

“Oh. So do you live near here, too?”

“I own a two-family building just west of here. On the other side of Tower Grove Park, just past Southwest.”

“I know where that is,” Olivia said. “By Favazza’s and Cunetto’s?”

“Near there,” Garrett said at her mention of two restaurants in the Italian section of town Saint Louisans called The Hill. “I live on the second floor and rent out the first to a nice elderly lady. What about you?”

Her face clouded for a moment, as if she was embarrassed. “Ladue,” she said, “I rent an unused pool house. The residents are world travelers and aren’t home a lot, so I usually have a lot of privacy.”

“Ah,” Garrett said, although his cop-radar told him something didn’t fit. Unlike in St. Louis City, where it was common to see old carriage houses and above-the-garage apartments rented out, Ladue was ritzy and the whole affluent area was known for its huge mansions on three-acre-minimum lots. It was the type of town that would zone against renting garage apartments. Ladue residents were notorious for filing lawsuits over such things as what type of sign you could place in your yard.

But Olivia was smiling, and the things that did to his equilibrium made his cop’s suspicions about her place of residence a low priority. After all, he reminded himself, this was just one date.

Liz brought another basketful of bread, this time a different variety from the previous white rolls, and Garrett offered Olivia a piece. “Melanie’s runs you through a couple of different breads a night,” he said, answering her unanswered question. “Try this. Be sure to use some of the honey butter. It’s excellent.”

Olivia’s fingers connected with his as she took the slice. Heat instantly spread through his body—heat not caused by the warmth of the bread. He definitely reacted to this woman, and again his inner devil stood on his shoulder, whispering exactly what he wanted to do to her.

But Garrett was a gentleman. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess the bread’s still hot.”

“Yes,” Olivia agreed as she placed the bread on her plate, buttered the piece and ate a bite. As her lips closed, Garrett tried to stay composed. His only consolation was that her face was flushed, meaning she, too, felt the chemistry.

But this was to be only one date. Just one, designed to impress those guys over there. He would not take her to bed, no matter how tempted he might be.

Their crab legs arrived, and they made small talk while savoring their delicious dinner.