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desk.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect." She felt like
crowing. She was driving Troy crazy, she could read it in his
eyes. Although not her intent, the reaction was a bonus she
hadn't counted on.
"If you say so." Patsy shook her head as she settled into
her chair and turned on her computer. The machine hummed
and then bells and whistles sounded at odd intervals.
A scant two hours later, Breanna's friend Danielle,
gorgeous and dressed like a fashion model, sidled into Troy's
office under her veiled but watchful gaze. She couldn't have
missed the clicking of high heels on the hard linoleum if she'd
had on headphones.
"Uh, your friend's here." Patsy's curious gaze followed
Danielle's progress from the front entrance to her sexy,
seductive perch on the edge of the sheriff's desk.
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"Hmmm?" Breanna feigned disinterest. She glanced up
with a neutral expression and then turned away with a shrug.
"Guess she's not here to see me."
"Don't you care?" Patsy drummed nails on her desk, her
gaze ping-ponging from one friend to the other and back.
"She's flirting with your man."
Breanna screwed up her face and offered up a wide-eyed
stare. "He's not 'my man'. He's free to do what he wants."
She didn't add that she'd aimed this particular missile at the
sheriff, and she was indeed very interested in his reaction.
He'd passed Section A of test number one, the awful cooking
test, but would he pass test number two, the femme fatale?
She pretended to work on the stack of files littering her
desk so she could watch her friend work. Danielle, always the
flirt, was a pro. She wouldn't let a little thing like Troy not
being her type get in the way of a little fun, or helping her
friend, Breanna. Today, she was in top notch form. She'd
opted for the leather mini skirt, see-through blouse, and was
made up to the hilt in vivid contrast to Breanna's plain-Jane
style.
Danielle whispered something in Troy's ear as she
massaged his shoulders.
He blushed, slid a startled glance in Breanna's direction
and then jumped up, shoving his chair away from his desk.
Shoveling hair away from his eyes, he strode out of his office.
"Uh...it was very nice to see you, Danielle. I'm afraid I won't
be able to help you."
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Always A Bridesmaid
by Elaine Hopper
Danielle sashayed out of Troy's office, winking at Breanna
behind his back and giving her the thumbs up. Deviltry
danced in her slate blue eyes. "Your loss."
Breanna heard her sultry voice and wanted to slug her for
overplaying her role. She waved to her friend, biting her inner
lip. "Bye, Dani. Lunch later?"
Danielle slid a sly glance at Troy and licked her lips. "Give
me a rain check. Japanese buffet tomorrow?"
Troy wiped perspiration from his brow and sent a worried
look at Breanna. "Something up I should know about?"
Breanna ignored him until he sat on her desk and repeated
his question louder. "You say something, boss?" She
pretended ignorance but she wished she'd thought to bring
sunglasses to shade her eyes. She'd have to get them from
the car to make it through the rest of the day.
Troy leaned forward and tapped her on the chin. "Why are
you being so nice today? Since when do you bake me
cookies?" He scanned her frumpy attire and girl-next-door
face, his brows pinched. "Or dress so...casual?"
She splayed her hands in front of her and shrugged. Darn.
She noted that her finger nail polish was chipping which
definitely wasn't her real self. She couldn't stand chipped
polish. "Hadn't noticed. And the cookies were for everyone,
not just for you, Mr. Vain. I didn't tell you to hijack the whole
kit and kaboodle. That was your idea."
Color crawled up his neck. "I must've misunderstood," he
said, grumbling, pivoting on his heel and marching back to his
office.
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Always A Bridesmaid
by Elaine Hopper
Just before five o'clock, Sarah, another of Breanna's
friends, wandered in, sweetly dressed in a sun dress and
sandals, carrying a basketful of aromatic pastries. She swung
the basket back and forth as she slipped into Troy's private
domain.
Again, Breanna watched covertly, her stomach tied into
knots.
"Your friends are awfully social today." Patsy rocked back
in her chair and linked her hands behind her head as her gaze
darted to Troy, Sarah, and then back to Breanna with a
hundred unasked questions.
"I'm not their keeper. Maybe they wanted to check up on
me. After all, they all saw me get handcuffed and stuffed into
the back of the Sheriff's car." Breanna yawned and patted her
mouth. She stretched and whined like a cat. "They want to
make sure I'm being treated well. That's all."
"Aren't you going home? You're usually a streak out the
door by 5:01. You wouldn't be worried about your friends
flirting with your man, would you?" Patsy asked.
"If I had a man, I'm sure I wouldn't have to worry about
my friends. As I don't have one, I really don't have anything
to worry about, do I?" She stretched, feeling like strafing her
claws across Patsy's back. She had to strangle back a snarl
that desperately longed to escape in response to Patsy's
cattiness.
She wanted to stay and see Sarah's progress with Troy but
she didn't want to give Patsy any more ammunition for her
theory. So far, other than appealing to Troy's ravenous
appetite if his wolfing down the contents of the basket
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Always A Bridesmaid
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Sarah'd brought him was anything to go by, Troy wouldn't let
her get to first base. Just in case he was cognizant of her
presence, Breanna turned off her computer, tidied her desk,
and then sauntered into the ladies room. She lingered for a
few minutes, hoping Patsy had grown bored and left her alone
to stake out her suspect, then exited and rounded the corner.
Troy pushed off against the wall beside her desk with his
booted foot. "Whatcha doin' tonight?"
She jumped and clutched her throat. "Depends." She
scolded her nerve endings for jumping around like a
hyperactive kid and slowed her movements to a nonchalant
pace as she gathered her purse. Boy how she wished she'd
remembered to bring those sunglasses inside as she'd
promised herself earlier so she could hide her expression from
the man.
He stalked her, closing her escape hatch so that she was
pinned inside the U of her desk. His warm breath fanned the
back of her neck as he tugged her pony tail.
"I have a date." She felt him bristle behind her and his
hands dropped from her hair.
"A date?" Suspicion clouded his voice. "With whom?"
She couldn't help herself. "Roger." She omitted that Tim
and Jana, Roger's wife, Leann and probably half Sierra's [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]