Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) by Ann Charles

knocked on the front window. I looked up to find Doc waving at me on the other side of the glass.
    I smiled at him. It felt big and silly, very loose on my cheeks, but I couldn’t help it. Doc had a way of turning me into a loose woman all around.
    He pointed at the door.
    His wish was my command.
    A breeze blew in with him, carrying a couple of leaves with it from the courthouse’s Silver Maple trees across the street. I locked the door behind him.
    He took his time inspecting my outfit, his gaze darkening when he saw my choice in footwear. “I got your message, Boots.” He caught my hand, drawing me closer. “I like this uninhibited, gypsy look. It makes me want to do wicked things to you. Especially since you’re wearing my favorite cowboy boots.”
    Doc smelled like the outdoors, all fresh and woodsy and cool. But his lips were hot, and his kiss was positively steaming.
    “What kind of wicked things?” I asked when he took a break from making me burn from the inside out.
    “The kind that make you moan and pant, like you did on my voicemail.”
    I grinned. “I thought you might get a grin out of that.”
    “I’m going to make it your ringtone on my phone.”
    “Don’t you dare.”
    “Then again, I have enough trouble not thinking about you naked whenever you call.”
    He kissed me again, slow and enticing, tantalizing me with his tongue and magic hands.
    As tempting as it was to get all breathy and moan-filled for real in my empty office, I had kids waiting at home. Plus, those damned plate-glass windows offered a first rate peep show to anyone passing by. Public exhibitionism made my skin turn red. The one show Doc and I had performed for a pack of bikers needed no encore.
    I pulled away from his heat. “Feel like walking me out to the Picklemobile?”
    “Sure.” He followed me over to my desk. “What’s this?” He picked up the book Jerry had given to me and read the title. Disbelief creased his forehead when he finished. “No way.”
    “Yes way. I have homework. Jerry gave a copy to both Ben and me.” I took the book from him and shoved it into my purse. “You want to come over for supper and a movie tonight?”
    “What about your homework?”
    “Here’s an idea: After the kids go to bed, you could read it to me while I give you a relaxing rubdown.”
    “That sounds more like a bribe.”
    “They say studying with a partner is more fun.”
    He frowned at the book sticking halfway out of my purse. “How fun and relaxing are we talking?”
    “Very, very fun and super relaxing.”
    His focus locked onto my lips. “Like that time in my shower with the chocolate and peanut butter flavored soap?”
    I trailed my fingernails down along the buttons of his dark green shirt. “You’ll have to come over and find out, hot stuff.”
    “Deal.” He caught my fingers, which were now toying with his belt buckle, and lifted them to his lips. “But this time, how about keeping your claws retracted.”
    “Why? Did I hurt you last time?”
    “Only in a good way.” He kissed my knuckles. “But your kids will be within hearing distance this time.”
    True. We’d have to keep things PG tonight, darn it. “What if I promise to be gentle?”
    “Where’s the fun in that?”
    “Come read to me and I’ll show you.”
    He hesitated.
    If he opted out of tonight, it was probably just as well. Earlier, while skimming the first chapter of Jerry’s book, I’d been considering broaching the subject with Doc of how I was carrying the DNA of a line of killers. I’d played the “what-if” game with several different endings to our conversations, none of them happily-ever-afters.
    “You got yourself a deal, Boots.” He let go of my hand. “But first I need to take care of a few things in my office.”
    On second thought, maybe I’d stick to erotic massage and leave the truth-telling for another day.
    I hoisted my purse strap over my shoulder. “How did the meeting with your new client go?”
    “She