Hero at Large by Janet Evanovich Page A

he’s all I think about. I can’t get near him without coming unglued. I do everything but drool.” She touched her hands to hercheek. “Look at me. I get hot flashes just thinking about him.”
    â€œWow.”
    â€œAnd if that isn’t bad enough…I even like him.”
    Bitsy looked horrified. “I think you’ve slipped a cog somewhere.”
    â€œMy cogs are fine.” Chris bent to adjust one of her skate laces, then straightened with a sigh. “I just don’t want to complicate my life. I have my work and Lucy and Edna; I don’t have the time or the energy for a love affair. And I’m a terrible judge of men—what if he turns out to be another Steven Black?”
    Bitsy fixed her with a direct, steady gaze. “There’s only one Steven Black.”
    Â 
    It was true, Chris admitted as she parked the truck in front of her town house that evening. There was only one Steven Black, and it wasn’t fair to judge Ken by Steven’s failings. She sat for a moment watching the promised snow sift down in giant flakes and melt on the hood of the truck. It clung tentatively to the already frozen lawn and cement sidewalk. The front porch light had been turned on to welcome her home, and soft lights glowed behind the drawn living room curtains. A small thrillof happiness fluttered through her stomach at the cozy scene. Her armor was definitely slipping. She’d do better to overlook the homey welcome and conjure images of virile spiders waiting for naive flies instead…
    The sharp whine of a siren pierced the stillness, and Chris quirked an eyebrow. The smoke detector! She bolted to her front door and flung it open, only to be met by a cloud of gray smoke that stung her eyes and choked in her throat. “Ken!”
    â€œI’m in the damn kitchen,” he shouted over the din of the smoke detector.
    â€œAre you okay? Should I call the fire department?”
    â€œI can’t figure out how to get this blasted alarm to shut off.”
    Chris made her way to the kitchen, climbed up on a chair and pressed the silencer button on the smoke detector. From her elevated position she took a quick survey of the room. Everything seemed to be in order—with the exception of a charred lump of what she assumed used to be meat, sitting in a blackened pot in the sink.
    Ken scowled up at her. “Well?” he demanded, feet set wide, hands on hips.
    â€œWell, what?” Chris giggled.
    At the sound of her laughter he shifted from his pugnacious stance. An embarrassed grin stole across his mouth. “I burned supper.”
    â€œI noticed.” She stepped down and peered into the sink. “What did it used to be?”
    â€œRump roast. See,” he pointed out, “those small black lumps are carrots.”
    Chris stuck a fork into the meat but couldn’t pry the blackened roast from the bottom of the pot. “What happened?”
    â€œI had some business calls to make. And then I took a shower…”
    â€œYou have to make sure there’s always a little liquid in the bottom.”
    â€œThe book didn’t tell me that.”
    Chris wiped a smudge of soot from his cheek. His eyes locked into hers at the touch of her fingertip. A silent message passed between them with tender ferocity. “Damn,” Chris swore under her breath.
    â€œMindless mush?”
    â€œSomething like that.”
    â€œIf it’s any consolation, you don’t do much for my powers of concentration, either.”
    Chris retreated, putting some physical distance between them. “I don’t think it’s salvageable,” she said, turning her attention to the roast.
    â€œI’ll take you out to dinner.”
    She considered the idea for a moment, wondering how to remind him tactfully that he had no job and probably shouldn’t be squandering his money. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we stay home, and I’ll