The Truth About Love by Sheila Athens

belly.
    She laughed. “Was that your stomach?”
    “I might have forgotten to eat the last couple of days.” They’d stopped for burgers on the drive home from Tampa last night, but he hadn’t eaten much of his.
    “Yeah?” She popped up off the couch. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re with one of the best omelet makers in Tallahassee.”
    He held his hands up and shook his head. “No. I didn’t come here to mooch a meal off you.”
    She grabbed one of his arms and pulled it, encouraging him to get up and come with her. “Come on. I never cook for myself. It doesn’t make sense when there’s only one person. And I love a big breakfast.”
    He hesitated.
    “Sausage links,” she said in a singsong voice. She’d bought a packet of them a few days ago, thinking they’d keep forever in the freezer. “Fried potatoes. Omelets.”
    He laughed as he stood. “How many people are coming over?”
    He now stood inches from her, almost nose to nose. The closeness of him made her feel giddy. “I told you—I like breakfast.”
    “I just never knew a girl who could eat more than I can,” he teased.
    She grinned. She’d always been grateful for her physicality and strength. Had never gone through the body hang-ups that some girls had. She tilted her head playfully. “Are you calling me fat?”
    His hands traveled to her hips as his eyes met hers. The fun, flirty atmosphere was replaced by a silent connection between them. “I’m definitely not calling you fat.”
    She took a deep breath. Her gaze fell to his lips as the manly smell of him swirled around her. She immediately jerked her gaze back up to his olive-green eyes. God, would he think she wanted him to kiss her? This was all so . . . inappropriate. She couldn’t be making out in her apartment with someone involved in one of her cases. She could almost hear Dr. Howard’s class lecture on conflicts of interest. Still, she didn’t want the moment to end. “Then what are you saying?”
    He took a tiny step forward, drawing their bodies even closer together. “What I’m saying . . .”

    Landon’s mind whirred as he stood with his hands on Gina’s hips. He’d come here to talk about his dad, yet here he was, unable to keep from touching her. “What I’m saying is . . . that you confuse me.”
    She seemed to know what he was talking about. “Because you don’t know whether to run me over in the parking lot . . . ?”
    He nodded, waiting for her to finish her sentence. The only sound in the room was the pounding of his heart in his ears.
    “. . . or kiss me?”
    He nodded again.
    “I think the kissing would be a bad idea.” Her soft whisper filled the few inches between them. Despite her words, she didn’t pull away.
    “Because of the case?”
    “And because I confuse you.”
    “Maybe the kissing would help.” He was for damn sure willing to give it a try.
    “But I could lose my job.”
    The sweet scent of her beckoned him closer. “It’s just a summer gig anyway.”
    Her mouth fell open in mock surprise. “You want me to risk my career to kiss you?”
    “It would probably be worth your while.” And if it led to other things . . . well, he’d definitely make sure she enjoyed that, too.
    She covered his hands with hers and gently pulled them away from her hips. “Maybe we should stick with breakfast.”
    She turned and walked toward the kitchen, giving him a great view of that sweet ass in tiny yellow shorts. He stood for a minute, wishing that little scene had turned out differently, then followed her into the kitchen.
    She handed him a cutting board and two potatoes. “You’re in charge of these. Wash them first, then cut them into thin slices. Leave the skin on.” She opened the fridge and bent over to rummage through one of the drawers.
    Again, the yellow shorts caught his attention, but he needed to stop staring and keep up with his end of the conversation. “You’re kind of bossy.”
    “You want to help or do you