Kiss the Cook Read Free Page A

several steps. "If you touch me, I'll scream. I've got chicken legs and I'm not afraid to use them."
    He stared at her as though she was an escapee from the home for the criminally insane. "What the hell are you talking about?"
    "If you think I'll stand here and let you jump me-- "
    "Your car. I'll use my jumper cables to jump-start your car."
    Melanie’s face heated with embarrassment "Oh. Right. I knew that."
    He muttered again and shook his head. "I'll just pop the hood." He slid across the seat, got one leg out of the car and stopped. Melanie stared down at him and waited. He jerked forward a few times but didn't move.
    "What's wrong?" she asked.
    He looked up at her with an unreadable expression. "You said something about broken springs in the seat?"
    Melanie nodded. "Yeah. Why?"
    "It seems my pants are snagged."
    "Snagged?"
    "I'm stuck."
    "What do you mean?"
    He sent her a potent glare. "Which word are you having trouble with-- I'm or stuck?"
    "Sheesh. There's no need to be sarcastic."
    He wiggled his butt a bit. Melanie could almost hear his teeth grinding together. "Stuck. Caught. Trapped. I can't move."
    Melanie shook her head in sympathy. "Bummer. I know just how you feel. Just last week I ruined a skirt because of those darn springs."
    He stuck his hand under himself and yelped. "Jesus! Look at this! I'm bleeding!" He withdrew his hand and held up fingers smeared dark red. "I'll probably get tetanus from this rattletrap."
    Melanie bent over, grabbed his hand, and peered at it in the dim interior light. Then she sniffed. "Barbecue sauce."
    "Excuse me?"
    "That isn't blood. It's barbecue sauce. A stray packet from a previous delivery order, no doubt. Here." She reached under the seat and handed him a wad of paper napkins.
    He wipe d his fingers and gave her a look that was surely meant to incinerate her on the spot. "So, my pants are ripped and stained."
    "Seems so. "
    "Well that’s just perfect ."
    Melanie considered pointing out to him that the barbecue sauce wasn't doing her upholstery any good, but it didn't seem like something he would appreciate hearing. Instead she said, “I really am sorry about this.”
    “ Great,” he said testily. “That’s very helpful. How about giving me a hand in getting out of here? Preferably without opening an artery.”
    "Oh. Sure." Melanie rested the umbrella between the open door and the car roof and leaned in across him, trying to see where his pants were caught. "Sorry," she mumbled, pushing her way in. " Gotta crawl over you. Passenger door doesn't open."
    Chris stared down with disbelief at the woman sprawled across his lap. Her short skirt was hiked up and barely covered the essentials. Since her backside was practically in his face, he couldn't help but notice the curve of her hips. She had a great butt. At the moment, however, her long, lean legs stuck out the open door, dangling in the rain. He prayed none of his coworkers-- or a cop-- happened by. This definitely did not look good.
    Something pinched his rear and he sucked in a breath. “What the hell are you doing to my ass?” he asked, annoyed to be placed in this awkward spot. “This isn’t the time or place to be copping a feel."
    She pushed herself up and glared at him. Her head was only inches from his and wit h the aid of the interior light Chris got his first good look at her face. Her hair was half plastered to her head, half sticking up at crazy angles. She looked like she'd stuck her finger in an electric socket
    Her mascara had run, forming black moons under big, expressive, chocolatey-brown eyes that studied him with clear exasperation. She had creamy skin, and a battalion of pale freckles marched across her straight nose. Two deep dimples winked at him from the sides of her lush mouth. Despite his annoyance, his attention lingered there for several seconds.
    Forcing his gaze away from her plump lips, he noted her shirt was soaking wet and clung to her like a second skin, clearly outlining soft