Twice as Hot by Gena Showalter Page B

last
night.
    Tanner
crossed his arms over his chest. “So what I want to know is who the hell
admires you?”
    “Like
it’s impossible,” I replied, ignoring the fact that I’d wondered the same
thing. I grabbed the box and clutched it to my chest, determined to find
answers. Was there a camera strapped to the outside, someone watching my every
move? Were the little treats poisoned? “Some men do think I’m cool.”
    “That’s
not what I meant, so sheathe the claws, Viper. You’re an engaged woman and the
only guys you meet are scrims.”
    Though
our minds were on the same track, I said, “Maybe my banker or my grocer finds
me irresistible.” We headed toward his car. A sleek red Viper—the very vehicle
he’d named me after. Okay, fine. First time we met, I’d told him Viper was my
name.
    “Yeah,
well, maybe your banker and your grocer need a beat down. My bet is the
chocolates are from a rival agency. You know, to lure you to the dark side. Or
maybe even kill you.”
    This
wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to soften me up before attacking.
Once, a scrim had jumped behind my car as I was backing out of a parking lot—I
hadn’t known she’d jumped at the time—and I’d slammed into her. She’d known how
to absorb the impact without truly damaging herself, but again, I hadn’t known
that. Concerned, I’d thrown the car in Park and rushed to her, only to watch in
horror as she pulled a gun on me. Only problem with her plan was that she’d
already engaged my emotions. My fear froze the bullets inside the gun’s chamber
and her ass to the pavement.
    “And
to think, this is the life Sherridan craves for herself,” I said. “I can’t even
enjoy a box of chocolates.” A fate far worse than being shot at.
    We
reached the car, but Tanner didn’t open my door. He slid into the driver’s side
and waited for me to let myself in, the turd. Once I settled beside him in the
plush leather seat, my dress tucked daintily around my legs, the candy resting
in my lap, I said, “I’m in silk.” A lie. I’m sure it was a poly-blend. “At the
very least, you could treat me like a lady.”
    He
snorted. “You. A lady. Funny.”
    “Just
drive us to PSI, Mr. Sensitive.” As I spoke, I popped open the lid to the top
box and gazed in amazement at the assortment of truffles, chocolate squares and
cookies. How innocent they appeared…how delicious. My mouth watered, and my
stomach rumbled.
    Tanner
backed out of the driveway at Mach one, his preferred speed. “Don’t eat them.
They could be poisoned.”
    “I’d
already thought of that. I just wanted a peek at what I’m not going to enjoy.”
    He
glanced at them and whistled. “Those suckers are expensive.”
    One
of my brows arched as I faced him. “How do you know?”
    “My
dad used to buy that brand for his girlfriends.”
    His
dad had died not too long ago, and I patted his arm in sympathy. His mother, an
alcoholic, had left on his eighth birthday—some present, right?—and his dad had
been all he’d had left. The loss had devastated him.
    I
knew that sense of loss intimately.
    I’d
just started learning to walk when my mother died in a car accident. Though I
couldn’t remember her features without looking at a photograph, sometimes I
would swear there was a hole in my heart. A hole her death had caused.
    But
I still had a parent, still had someone to lean on. My dad had always taken
care of me. He’d bought me tampons for my first period and talked to me about
sex, even though he’d been uncomfortable, his face as red as a lobster. Those
things had made me love him even more, but they’d also made the pang of not
having a mother worse.
    “You’re
staring at the chocolates like you’ve spotted Jesus,” Tanner said. “Just…toss
them on the floorboard. John can dust the box and the candy itself for prints.”
    I
replaced the lid, but left them in my lap. “If we’re dealing with a rival
agency, there won’t be any prints.” It