Wicked Appetite - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,37

end, bloodcurdling growl.

Carl went rigid, eyes wide. “Eeeep!”

“Be nice,” I said to Cat. “This is Carl. He’s a houseguest.” I turned to Carl. “This is Cat 7143.”

Carl took a cautious step forward and smiled his insane, scary-monkey smile at Cat. Cat hissed and slashed at Carl, and Carl scampered up Diesel’s leg and hunkered down on his shoulder, digging his boney monkey fingers into Diesel’s shirt.

“You’re going to have to deal with this,” I said to Diesel. “I have to take a shower.”

Diesel swung Carl down off his shoulder. “No problemo. Let me know if you need help. I’ve been told I’m good with soap.”

I thought about rolling my eyes, but I’d been doing a lot of that lately. I also refrained from sighing, grunting, or doing what I really wanted to do, which was take him up on his offer. I ran upstairs, stripped, and decided the clothes were unsalvageable. I found a garbage bag under the sink, stuffed the clothes into the bag, and tossed the bag out the second-floor window. The bathroom instantly smelled better. Huge relief. The smell wasn’t originating with me.

I stepped into the shower and let the water beat down on me. It took every drop of hot water in the house and a lot of shampoo to get the oil out of my hair. I did a fast blow-dry, got dressed in clean jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and I went in search of Diesel.

I found him talking on his cell phone in the kitchen. Cat was hiding somewhere, and Carl was sitting on one of the bar stools. Somewhere toward the end of the shower, I was overwhelmed with a craving for chocolate. Now that I was in the kitchen, the quest for chocolate occupied my entire brain. I snatched three bars of baker’s chocolate from the cupboard and cracked one open.

“As much as I would like more muffins, we don’t have time for baking,” Diesel said, eyeing the chocolate.

I shoved some chocolate into my mouth and put the other two bars in my jeans pocket. “I’m not baking. I’m eating.” I looked around. “I need fudge and marshmallow. Make a list. We need to go to the store. Costco. We can buy cases there, so I won’t run out.” I broke more off the chocolate bar and nibbled at it. “And I really need some Snickers bars. A couple cases of those. Are you writing this down?”

“You’ve got gluttonitis again,” Diesel said. “I’ve got the charm on me, and it looks like it’s leaking out to you.”

“I do not have gluttonitis. That’s ridiculous. I’m just making a food list. Suppose there was a hurricane, and I didn’t have any Snickers, and the stores ran out? What then?” I opened a jar of peanut butter and ate it with my finger between munches of chocolate.

“Stop eating,” Diesel said.

I swooped a big glob of peanut butter onto my finger. “Mind your own beeswax.”

I had the finger with the peanut butter almost to my mouth, and Diesel grabbed my wrist.

“I’m asking you to stop,” he said. “If you don’t listen to me, I’ll make you stop.”

My eyes were narrowed, fixed on the peanut butter stuck to the end of my finger. I wanted the peanut butter bad. “Let go,” I said to Diesel.

Diesel put his mouth to my finger and sucked the peanut butter off.

“Hey, Mister Jerk,” I said, “that was my peanut butter.”

And then it hit me. Heat. And a rush so strong it almost knocked me to my knees. His mouth had been warm and wet, and there was some tongue involved.

“Jeez,” I said on a whisper.

He was inches from me, our bodies barely touching. His eyes were dark and serious, and his hand was still wrapped around my wrist. For a long moment, I was sure he was going to kiss me, but the emotion changed in his eyes, and he pulled back.

“We need to talk to Mark,” he said.

“Un-hunh.”

The corners of his mouth tipped into a small smile. “Are you hungry?”

I nodded.

“For chocolate?”

I gave him my squinty-eyed eat-dirt-and-die look. He knew perfectly well what I wanted. “I’m hungry for everything,” I said.

Diesel grinned wide. “I like the sound of that.”

“Can you read my mind now?”

“Honey, it doesn’t take magic to read your mind on this one.” He gave me a kiss on the forehead and released me. “Let’s roll. Wulf is out there on the hunt. I can feel his energy polluting my air space.”

The Spook Patrol jumped to attention