Valentine's Day Is Killing Me Read Online Free Page B

to go into her bedroom, but he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around.
    “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s the least of my problems, believe me. What the hell am I going to do about that poor guy at the restaurant?”
    “Uh…well, I…uh…” Blue eyes were filling her world, her universe. They were getting closer and closer. There was nothing else: no house, no living room, no cardigan, no dead guy.
    She felt his lips on hers and put her arms around him—she could hardly reach, his shoulders were so broad. Her mouth opened beneath his and his tongue touched hers, tentatively and then with more assurance, licking her teeth and nibbling her lower lip. She pulled, and the cardigan was on the floor, and her hands were running across his fine chest, and…
    (dead guy, dead guy!) …she yanked herself away. “Stop that! This is totally inappropriate!”
    “Hey, you kissed me .”
    “I did not!” Oh, wait. Maybe she did. “Well, it doesn’t matter. This isn’t the time or place.”
    “I know. That’s why I didn’t kiss you. Although, I have to say,” he added cheerfully, “I’ve been dying to all night. But you’re right, this isn’t the right time. Bad sweetie.”
    “Oh, like you were really fighting it!”
    “It seemed rude to give you the brush-off,” he said, sounding wounded. “You know, me being a guest in your home and all.”
    “Well, never mind that. Let’s stay focused. Put your sweater back on.”
    “I didn’t take it off,” he grumbled, but did as she asked.
    “Let’s figure this out. We have to be back there in fourteen hours. So, if you didn’t kill the guy—”
    “Charley Ferrin.”
    She gasped. “You know him?”
    “No, no.” He held his hands up, palm out. “Calm down, don’t have a coronary.”
    “I’ll have one if I damn well please!”
    “It’s not like that. Detective Hobbes told me his name. I swear, I have no idea who he is. The name meant nothing to me.”
    “Okay, okay.” She forced herself to calm down. He was right, this was no time to burst a blood vessel. “So, if you didn’t do it, who did? Who had a motive and could do it quick, and avoid the cops, and stick you with a murder charge?”
    “Honey, I got nothin’. I’ve been trying to figure it out all night. I was minding my own business, waiting for you, and the next thing I know, I’m wearing handcuffs. And not in a good way.”
    She felt the blood rush to her face as she pictured him cuffed to her headboard. “All right. Did you overhear any arguments? See anybody fighting? Anything weird at all?”
    “No.”
    “Come on. There must be something.”
    He shook his head. “No. And no, and no. I told the cops all this already.”
    “Well, now tell me, ” she snapped.
    “Don’t boss me!”
    “I’ll boss you if I like! If it wasn’t for me you’d still be rotting in jail!”
    “The hell. My lawyer would have vouched for me.”
    “Yeah, I could tell what a great job he did by the way it took him hours and hours to not show up.”
    “Listen—mmph!”
    She had kissed him again. What was wrong with her?
    “Not that I mind,” he gasped, extricating himself from her grip, “but, again, don’t you think this is a little inappropriate? Given the circumstances?”
    She got up to pace. “Of course it’s inappropriate—it’s nine kinds of inappropriate! What the hell is wrong with me?”
    He opened his mouth, but she beat him to the punch. “I’ll tell you, it’s this fucking holiday! It’s killing me! It’s making me act in ways I would never normally act! God, I hate it, I hate it, I hate Valentine’s Day!”
    “Take it easy,” he said, and rose to cuddle her in his arms. Sulkily, she allowed it. “You’ve had a tough day.”
    “A terrible day.”
    “Yes, just awful. You poor baby.”
    “I never should have said yes when you asked me out. I like being single!”
    “Aw, come on,” he said to the top of her head. “And miss all this