11 Eleven On Top Read Online Free
Author: Janet Evanovich
embedded bullet in passenger seat. Bashed-in right rear quarter panel and right passenger-side door from sledgehammer. Previous damage from creepy gun attack by insane stalker. And someone had spray painted eat me on the driver's side door.
“Your car's a mess,” Lula said. “I don't know what it is with you and cars.”
TWO
Morelli drives an SUV. He used to own a 4x4 truck, but he traded it in so Bob could ride around with him and be more comfortable. This isn't normal behavior for Morelli men. Morelli men are known for being charming but worthless drunks who rarely care about the comfort of their wife and kids, much less the dog. How Joe escaped the Morelli Man syndrome is a mystery. For a while he seemed destined to follow in his fathers footsteps, but somewhere in his late twenties, Joe stopped chasing women and fighting in bars and started working at being a good cop. He inherited his house from his Aunt Rose. He adopted Bob. And he decided, after years of hit-and-run sex, he was in love with me. Go figure that. Joseph Morelli with a house, a dog, a steady job, and an SUV.
And on odd days of the month he woke up wanting to marry me. It turns out I only want to marry him on even days of the month, so to date we've been spared commitment.
When I arrived at Morelli's house his SUV was parked curbside and Morelli and Bob were sitting on Morelli's tiny front porch. Usually Bob goes gonzo when he sees me, jumping around all smiley face. Today Bob was sitting there drooling, looking sad.
“What's with Bob?” I asked Morelli.
“I don't think he feels good. He was like this when I came home.”
Bob stood and hunched. “Gak,” Bob said. And he hacked up a sock and a lot of Bob slime. He looked down at the sock. And then he looked up at me. And then he got happy. He jumped around, doing his goofy dance. I gave him a hug and he wandered off, tail wagging, into the house.
“Guess we can go in now,” Morelli said. He got to his feet, slid his arm around my shoulders, and hugged me to him for a friendly kiss. He broke from the kiss and his eyes strayed to my car. “I don't suppose you'd want to tell me about the body damage?”
“Sledgehammer.” Of course.
“You're pretty calm about all this,” I said to him.
“I'm a calm kind of guy.”
“No, you're not. You go nuts over this stuff. You always yell when people go after me with a sledgehammer.”
“Yeah, but in the past you haven't liked that. I'm thinking if I start yelling it might screw up my chances of getting you naked. And I'm desperate. I really need to get you naked. Besides, you quit the bonds office, right? Maybe your life will settle down now. How'd the interview go?”
“I got the job. I start tomorrow.”
I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Morelli grinned down at me and slid his hands under my T-shirt. “We should celebrate.”
His hands felt nice against my skin, but I was starving and I didn't want to encourage any further celebrating until I got my pizza. He pulled me close and kissed his way up my neck. His lips moved to my ear and my temple and by the time he got to my mouth I was thinking the pizza could wait.
And then we heard it... the pizza delivery car coming down the street, stopping at the curb.
Morelli cut his eyes to the kid getting out of the car. “Maybe if we ignore him he'll go away.”
The steaming extra-large, extra cheese, green peppers, pepperoni pizza smell oozed from the box the kid was carrying. The smell rushed over the porch and into the house. Bob's toenails clattered on the polished wood hall floor as he took off from the kitchen and galloped for all he was worth at the kid.
Morelli stepped back from me and snagged Bob by the collar just as he was about to catapult himself off the porch.
“Ulk,” Bob said, stopping abruptly, tongue out, eyes bugged, feet off the ground.
“Minor setback with the celebration plan,” Morelli said.
“No rush,” I told him. “We have all night.”
Morelli's eyes
“Your car's a mess,” Lula said. “I don't know what it is with you and cars.”
TWO
Morelli drives an SUV. He used to own a 4x4 truck, but he traded it in so Bob could ride around with him and be more comfortable. This isn't normal behavior for Morelli men. Morelli men are known for being charming but worthless drunks who rarely care about the comfort of their wife and kids, much less the dog. How Joe escaped the Morelli Man syndrome is a mystery. For a while he seemed destined to follow in his fathers footsteps, but somewhere in his late twenties, Joe stopped chasing women and fighting in bars and started working at being a good cop. He inherited his house from his Aunt Rose. He adopted Bob. And he decided, after years of hit-and-run sex, he was in love with me. Go figure that. Joseph Morelli with a house, a dog, a steady job, and an SUV.
And on odd days of the month he woke up wanting to marry me. It turns out I only want to marry him on even days of the month, so to date we've been spared commitment.
When I arrived at Morelli's house his SUV was parked curbside and Morelli and Bob were sitting on Morelli's tiny front porch. Usually Bob goes gonzo when he sees me, jumping around all smiley face. Today Bob was sitting there drooling, looking sad.
“What's with Bob?” I asked Morelli.
“I don't think he feels good. He was like this when I came home.”
Bob stood and hunched. “Gak,” Bob said. And he hacked up a sock and a lot of Bob slime. He looked down at the sock. And then he looked up at me. And then he got happy. He jumped around, doing his goofy dance. I gave him a hug and he wandered off, tail wagging, into the house.
“Guess we can go in now,” Morelli said. He got to his feet, slid his arm around my shoulders, and hugged me to him for a friendly kiss. He broke from the kiss and his eyes strayed to my car. “I don't suppose you'd want to tell me about the body damage?”
“Sledgehammer.” Of course.
“You're pretty calm about all this,” I said to him.
“I'm a calm kind of guy.”
“No, you're not. You go nuts over this stuff. You always yell when people go after me with a sledgehammer.”
“Yeah, but in the past you haven't liked that. I'm thinking if I start yelling it might screw up my chances of getting you naked. And I'm desperate. I really need to get you naked. Besides, you quit the bonds office, right? Maybe your life will settle down now. How'd the interview go?”
“I got the job. I start tomorrow.”
I was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Morelli grinned down at me and slid his hands under my T-shirt. “We should celebrate.”
His hands felt nice against my skin, but I was starving and I didn't want to encourage any further celebrating until I got my pizza. He pulled me close and kissed his way up my neck. His lips moved to my ear and my temple and by the time he got to my mouth I was thinking the pizza could wait.
And then we heard it... the pizza delivery car coming down the street, stopping at the curb.
Morelli cut his eyes to the kid getting out of the car. “Maybe if we ignore him he'll go away.”
The steaming extra-large, extra cheese, green peppers, pepperoni pizza smell oozed from the box the kid was carrying. The smell rushed over the porch and into the house. Bob's toenails clattered on the polished wood hall floor as he took off from the kitchen and galloped for all he was worth at the kid.
Morelli stepped back from me and snagged Bob by the collar just as he was about to catapult himself off the porch.
“Ulk,” Bob said, stopping abruptly, tongue out, eyes bugged, feet off the ground.
“Minor setback with the celebration plan,” Morelli said.
“No rush,” I told him. “We have all night.”
Morelli's eyes
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