Wild Read Free Page A

can feel it in my whiskers.”
    â€œYou’re clean shaven.”
    â€œI’m talking about my hidden ones.” He winked.
    She frowned. “That better not be some sly reference to your pubes because that’s just gross.”
    The graceful Broderick stumbled, and she almost laughed, especially given the expression on his face. He didn’t say anything to her remark, so she couldn’t help but tease, “Cat got your tongue?”
    â€œNo, but if you’re not careful, this cat will take yours.”
    â€œI’d like to see you try.” She’d put him flat on his ass —then straddle him and kiss those tempting lips while—
    Stop. Nope. Not happening. Broderick might appeal to her womanly side with his assertions that she was his soul mate, but she wasn’t falling for his lame pickup lines. He should work his wiles on someone more gullible, someone she could easily intimidate. Because he’s mine. Don’t touch.
    The sudden spurt of jealousy took her by surprise. She barely knew the guy. Why would the thought of him chasing after another girl bother her?
    â€œI brought you flowers.” He thrust out his hand, and she noted with surprise the arrangement of yellow roses. And not the wilted kind bought on a street corner for five dollars a bunch. He’d actually procured fresh roses, the yellow buds just starting to open and emitting a lovely perfumed aroma.
    No one’s ever brought me flowers before. Tickets to a sporting event, yes. Takeout so they could eat in and tumble into bed happened more often than she liked. Oh, and the suave idiots who thought a box of extra-large condoms would impress her. That guy never even made it to second base. But flowers? How old school and cute.
    While Lulu didn’t take them, she did lower her gun. After all, there was no point in keeping it aimed when she knew she wouldn’t shoot it. The guy was weird, maybe a little too ardent, but so far, harmless.
    And if he wasn’t, she’d do to him what she’d done to the mugger.
    â€œYou can keep your flowers. I don’t want them.” She didn’t even own a vase to put them in. Not to mention, accepting them might encourage him. Men always seemed to think they were owed something if a girl said yes to anything.
    â€œWhat about the chocolate?” His free hand yanked a small box, tied with a ribbon, from his pocket. The Godiva name caught her eye.
    Chocolate.
    Quality chocolate.
    No. Must resist. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket lest she snatch the temptation from his hand. Her traitorous stomach gurgled, but surely he didn’t hear it.
    Judging by the amused tilt of his lips, he did. “They’ve got creamy centers.”
    Evil man. Up came the gun. “Move away with your deadly chocolate.”
    Still smiling, he lifted both hands laden with gifts, high enough that the fabric of his T-shirt dragged up and over the waist of his low-hanging jeans.
    Her gaze was drawn to the narrow band of flesh exposed, the glimpse of taut abdominals and a thatch of hair, arrowing down to …
    â€œAre you seriously getting a boner right now?” She couldn’t help her incredulous inquiry. “You do realize I am pointing a gun at you.”
    â€œAnd it’s awfully sexy. I don’t suppose once we become a couple that you’d mind if I rented you a sexy cop-girl uniform? You could arrest me. Maybe frisk me. Then strip search me for evidence.”
    She almost went cross-eyed at his blatant proposition, less because of the audacity but more because she could picture it. With the addition of cuffs.
    â€œWe are not going to be a couple.” Tired of spinning in circles when it came to talking to Broderick, and even more tired of trying to resist his damned charm, she spun and headed to her car, a late model Mazda 3, a perfect little commuter car for a girl in the city.
    She didn’t know he’d followed