Hooking Him - Aurora Rose Reynolds Page 0,7
“What exactly are you forgiving me for?”
“Whatever you’re apologizing for.”
He grins, and damn if that isn’t attractive too. “Well, since that’s done, what do you recommend?”
I shake my head, and my brows draw together. “What?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Do you mean from here?” I wave my hands around the shop.
He looks around, then asks somewhat sarcastically, “Isn’t this a bakery?”
My right cheek twitches, a tic that surfaces when I’m feeling annoyed or uncomfortable. “No, it’s actually a cover for a money-laundering operation. The stuff in the display case isn’t even real. It’s all made from plastic.” I slip my most wide-eyed, innocent look into place. “Pretty amazing, right?”
He bites his bottom lip like he’s trying not to laugh, and I have the urge to go over-the-top, Christian Grey alpha on his ass and demand he not do that. “Gorgeous . . . and a smart-ass.”
Wait. Is he saying I’m gorgeous?
Never mind. I don’t care. Time to get us back on track. “Everything here is good.”
“Everything.” He eyes me in a way that causes my nipples to pebble against the lace of my bra.
I cross my arms over my chest to hide the evidence that my body finds him attractive and hitch out my hip. “I’m sure if you live in town you’ve heard that this is the best place to take care of whatever sweet craving you might have.”
“I haven’t heard that, but I’m thinking you might be right.”
I start to open my mouth to ask him what exactly he’s doing here when the door chimes. It’s Chrissie’s husband, Gaston, looking as handsome as ever, even dressed casually in sneakers, jeans, and a plain navy-blue shirt. I would have sworn Gaston was the most attractive man in town, and Chrissie’s best friend’s husband, Tyler, second to him. But now, after meeting Calvin, I know I was wrong.
“Hey, Anna.” He smiles at me before scanning the bakery. “Is Chrissie in the back?”
“Yeah, she’s in the office, placing the order for next week.”
He nods, then eyes Calvin at the counter. He lifts his chin at him before asking me, “Are you good?”
“Yep, this is Officer Miller.” I wave one hand out in Calvin’s direction.
“Detective,” Calvin says.
“Okay, this is Detective Miller,” I say, emphasizing the word sarcastically. “He came in today to make sure we’re on the up-and-up.”
“What?” Gus frowns, turning his attention to Calvin. “Is there a problem?”
“Nope, Anna here was just telling me about the shop being a cover for a money-laundering operation, which surprised me, since it’s never come up on our radar.”
Me and my big mouth.
“Anna.” I turn to Gaston when he calls my name and wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks between Calvin and me a couple of times, and then his expression fills with some sort of understanding that I do not get, and he shakes his head. “I’m going to go check on Chrissie and see if she has time to go get lunch.”
“Okay,” I say, and he glances at us once more before muttering something under his breath and disappearing into the back of the shop. Once he’s gone, I turn to Calvin. “I swear if you get me fired, I will kill you.”
“Are you threatening an officer?” he asks, his right brow rising slightly.
“What?”
“You just threatened a police officer.”
“No.” I shake my head, then point at him. “I just threatened you, a man who spoke to me like I was a dog.”
“You already forgave me for that.” He grins and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “You can’t bring it up again.”
“I can do whatever I want.” Seriously, why does this guy make me want to scream and stomp my foot like a child who was told she can’t get what she wants from the candy aisle in the grocery store?
“So it’s true what they say about redheads.” His eyes drift over my hair, then my face.
Knowing exactly what he means, I lean slightly toward him. “You have no idea. So maybe you should take that into consideration before coming in here again.”
“Are you always crazy, or is it just me who brings out that quality in you?”
“I’m not crazy,” I deny, and he grins. “And don’t smile like that,” I demand, and he bites his bottom lip once more. “And don’t do that either. It’s annoying.”
“What is?”
“The whole lip-biting thing. It’s annoying. Stop doing it,” I demand, stomping my foot for emphasis.
“Stop being cute.”
“I’m not being cute,” I growl. Then I hiss, “Now tell me what you