voice, and didn’t feel like throwing cold water on myself, I did the next best thing. I pictured Cal and I in an intimate embrace, then pictured my boys walking in. That mental image was better than cold water.
I almost felt giddy with my well-squelched attraction. “I have three sons, Cal. I give them far more trouble than I’ve been able to give you, I swear. And I have an ex-husband. I give him more trouble than you and the boys combined. And I sometimes do it just for the fun of it.”
He looked slightly confused by my unswoonish reply. As if he couldn’t understand how his personal charisma had left me unaffected. I wasn’t about to tell him that having three boys was Kryptonite to lust.
“Heaven help your ex,” he muttered.
“Someone should help him. That man has a penchant for young girls. Nothing illegal,” I hastened to add. I didn’t want to see Cal arresting Jerry. Like I said, Jerry’s a pig, but he’s a good dad. “But younger than a man his age should like. Once they’re approaching their mid-twenties, he’s done with them. I’m thinking of adopting his current wife. She’s only two years older than my oldest and really is the sweetest girl.”
Cal gave me an odd look. “You like your husband’s current wife?”
“I’ve liked all my ex-husband’s wives, both the current one and those that came before me and after me. He’s got good taste in women. He married me, after all, didn’t he?”
Cal laughed. “So, does he have kids with all those other wives?”
“No. My boys are his only kids. I don’t think he intended to have three kids in three years with me, but it turns out, I’m a fertile Myrtle. Seriously, when it became apparent we were going to separate, I didn’t even want to be in the same room with him. I was terrified he’d sneeze, and I’d be pregnant with baby number four.”
Cal took another long, slow sip of his beer, then asked, “Was that a warning?”
To which I gave the eloquent response, “Huh?”
“Were you cautioning me that you’re fertile so that when we get together, I know we have to be careful?”
I sputtered Guinness all over the bar. And inhaled a bit of it which caused me to literally choke. When I could breathe, I managed, “You are not only the most arrogant man in the universe, you’re…deluded. You and I are never going to find ourselves in any sort of position that would require us to be careful. Plus, I’m thirty-eight and my eggs are old now. They’re tired. They’re fried. Yes, I’ve got fried eggs, so I’m sure fertility isn’t as much an issue now that I’m in my late thirties, as it was when I was in my teens and early twenties.”
My response was obviously not what Cal expected. Mr. Come-hither-charcoal-grey eyes looked confused. “I thought you brought it up because you’ve been thinking about me like that.”
“Detective, you can be sure, I’ve thought about you a lot since I cleaned Mr. Banning’s place. But in terms of us getting together like that?” I shook my head. “Not in your dreams. You’re trying to arrest me. You’re trying to put me in jail and I still haven’t looked up if California is a death penalty state, so maybe you’re even try to kill me. No matter what, let’s be clear I don’t sleep with men who want to put me in handcuffs.”
“Duly noted as well.” He took a long sip of his beer, then added, “Quincy Mac is not into kink.”
“I didn’t say that,” I assured him.
“Oh, so you’re saying that you are into kink? I mean, I know a lot of women like cops because of the uniform, or the handcuffs.”
What the heck? I’d put him in his place and assured him in no uncertain terms his normal tactics were not going to work on me. He couldn’t charm me into submission. I didn’t have a thing for men in uniforms. “You don’t have a
I almost felt giddy with my well-squelched attraction. “I have three sons, Cal. I give them far more trouble than I’ve been able to give you, I swear. And I have an ex-husband. I give him more trouble than you and the boys combined. And I sometimes do it just for the fun of it.”
He looked slightly confused by my unswoonish reply. As if he couldn’t understand how his personal charisma had left me unaffected. I wasn’t about to tell him that having three boys was Kryptonite to lust.
“Heaven help your ex,” he muttered.
“Someone should help him. That man has a penchant for young girls. Nothing illegal,” I hastened to add. I didn’t want to see Cal arresting Jerry. Like I said, Jerry’s a pig, but he’s a good dad. “But younger than a man his age should like. Once they’re approaching their mid-twenties, he’s done with them. I’m thinking of adopting his current wife. She’s only two years older than my oldest and really is the sweetest girl.”
Cal gave me an odd look. “You like your husband’s current wife?”
“I’ve liked all my ex-husband’s wives, both the current one and those that came before me and after me. He’s got good taste in women. He married me, after all, didn’t he?”
Cal laughed. “So, does he have kids with all those other wives?”
“No. My boys are his only kids. I don’t think he intended to have three kids in three years with me, but it turns out, I’m a fertile Myrtle. Seriously, when it became apparent we were going to separate, I didn’t even want to be in the same room with him. I was terrified he’d sneeze, and I’d be pregnant with baby number four.”
Cal took another long, slow sip of his beer, then asked, “Was that a warning?”
To which I gave the eloquent response, “Huh?”
“Were you cautioning me that you’re fertile so that when we get together, I know we have to be careful?”
I sputtered Guinness all over the bar. And inhaled a bit of it which caused me to literally choke. When I could breathe, I managed, “You are not only the most arrogant man in the universe, you’re…deluded. You and I are never going to find ourselves in any sort of position that would require us to be careful. Plus, I’m thirty-eight and my eggs are old now. They’re tired. They’re fried. Yes, I’ve got fried eggs, so I’m sure fertility isn’t as much an issue now that I’m in my late thirties, as it was when I was in my teens and early twenties.”
My response was obviously not what Cal expected. Mr. Come-hither-charcoal-grey eyes looked confused. “I thought you brought it up because you’ve been thinking about me like that.”
“Detective, you can be sure, I’ve thought about you a lot since I cleaned Mr. Banning’s place. But in terms of us getting together like that?” I shook my head. “Not in your dreams. You’re trying to arrest me. You’re trying to put me in jail and I still haven’t looked up if California is a death penalty state, so maybe you’re even try to kill me. No matter what, let’s be clear I don’t sleep with men who want to put me in handcuffs.”
“Duly noted as well.” He took a long sip of his beer, then added, “Quincy Mac is not into kink.”
“I didn’t say that,” I assured him.
“Oh, so you’re saying that you are into kink? I mean, I know a lot of women like cops because of the uniform, or the handcuffs.”
What the heck? I’d put him in his place and assured him in no uncertain terms his normal tactics were not going to work on me. He couldn’t charm me into submission. I didn’t have a thing for men in uniforms. “You don’t have a
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