About That Kiss Read online

  there’s nothing ‘rough’ about my job.”

  “I know I’d rather face down thugs and gangbangers daily than work in this lunacy bin.”

  She knew he was kidding, that he was in fact actually pretty funny, but she wasn’t charmed, refused to be charm. Fact was, she didn’t like any penis-carrying human being at the moment. “Right,” she said, “because clearly you’re here against your will, being held hostage and force fed all this amazing food. How awful for you.”

  “Yeah, life’s a bitch.” He eyeballed the piece of cheese bread on her plate she hadn’t touched. It was the last one.

  She gestured for him to take it and then watched in amazement as he put that away too. “I have to ask,” she said. “How in the world do you stay so . . .” She gestured with a hand toward his clearly well-taken care of body and struggled with a word to describe him. She supposed hot worked—if one was into big, annoying, perfectly fit alphas—not that she intended to say so since she was pretty sure he knew exactly how good he looked.

  “How do I stay so . . . what?” he asked.

  “Fishing for compliments is unattractive.

  He surprised her by laughing, clearly completely unconcerned with what she thought of him. “My days tend to burn up a lot of calories,” he said.

  “Uh huh.”

  He pushed his dark sunglasses to the top of his head and she was leveled with dark eyes dancing with mischievousness. “Such cynicism in one so young.”

  A plate of cupcakes was passed down the table and Lanie eyed them, feeling her mouth water. She had only so much self-control and apparently she was at her limit because she took one and then with barely a pause, grabbed a second as well. Realizing the deputy sheriff was watching her and looking amused while he was at it, she shrugged. “Sometimes I reward myself before I accomplish something. It’s called pre-award motivation.”

  “Does it work?”

  “Absolutely one hundred percent not,” she admitted and took a bite of one of the cupcakes, letting out a low moan before she could stop herself. “Oh. My. God.”

  His eyes darkened to black. “You sound like that cupcake is giving you quite the experience.”

  She held up a finger for silence, possibly having her first ever in public orgasm.

  He leaned in a little bit and since their thighs were already plastered together, he didn’t have to go far to speak directly into her ear. “Do you make those same sexy sounds when you—”

  She pointed at him again because she still couldn’t talk, and he just grinned. “Yeah,” he said. “I bet you do. And now I know what I’m going to be thinking about for the rest of the day.”

  “You’ll be too busy catching the bad guys, remember?”

  “I’m real good at multitasking,” he said.

  She let out a laugh, though it was rusty as hell. It’d been awhile since she’d found something funny. Not that this changed her idea of him. He was still too sure of himself, too cocky, and she’d had enough of that to last a lifetime. But she also was good at multitasking and could both not like him and appreciate his sense of humor at the same time.

  What she couldn’t appreciate was when his smile turned warm and inviting, because for a minute something passed between them, something she couldn’t—or didn’t—intend to recognize.

  “Maybe I could call you sometime,” he said.

  Before she could turn him down politely—and with surprisingly real regret—the little cupcake twins came running, leaping at him, one of them yelling, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Look what we got!”

  Catching them both with impressive ease, Mark stood, managing to somehow confiscate the cupcakes and set them aside before getting covered in chocolate. “Why is it,” he asked Lanie over their twin dark heads, “that when a child wants to show you something they try to place it directly in your cornea?”

  Still completely floored, Lanie could only shake her head.

  Mark adjusted the girls so that they hung upside down off his back. This had them erupting in squeals of delight as he turned back to face Lanie again, two little ankles in each of his big hands. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said into her undoubtedly shocked face. “I think it every day.”

  Actually, even she had no idea what she was thinking except . . . he was a Capriotti? How had she not seen that coming?

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m one of them, which is why I get to bitch about them. And let me guess . . . you just decided you’re not going to answer my call, right?”

  Most definitely, not but before she could say so out loud Cora was back, going up on tiptoes to kiss Mark on the cheek. “Hey, baby. Heard you had a real tough night.”

  He shrugged.

  “You get enough to eat?” she asked. “Yes?” She eyed his empty plate and then with a nod of satisfaction, reached up and ruffled his hair. “Good. But don’t for a single minute think, Marcus Antony Edward Capriotti, that I don’t know who sneaked your grandpa the cigars he was caught smoking last night.”

  From his seat at the table, “grandpa”, aka Leonardo Antony Capriotti, lifted his hands like who me?

  Cora shook her head at the both of them, helped the girls down from Mark’s broad shoulders, took them by the hand and walked away.

  No, Lanie would most definitely not be taking the man’s call. And not for the reasons he’d assume either. She didn’t mind that he had kids. What she minded was that here was a guy who appeared to have it all; close family, wonderful children, a killer smile, hot body . . . without a single clue about just how damn lucky he was. It made her mad, actually.

  He took in her expression. “Okay, so you’re most definitely not going to take my call.”

  “It’s nothing personal,” she said. “I just don’t date . . .”

  “Dads?”

  Actually, as a direct result of no longer trusting love, not even one little teeny, tiny bit, she didn’t date anyone anymore, but that was none of his business.

  He looked at her for another beat and whatever lingering amusement he’d retained left him and he simply nodded as he slid his sunglasses back over his eyes. “Good luck today,” he said. “You really are going to need it.”

  And then he was gone.

  He thought she’d judged him. She hated that he thought that but it was best to let him think it. Certainly better than the truth, which is that the problem was her, all her. She inhaled a deep, shaky breath and turned, surprised to find to not just Cora watching, but his sisters, grandpa, and several others she could only guess were also related.

  Note to self: Capriotti’s multiplied when left unattended.