Naughty Neighbor - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,13

go for a house with a pig, but I don’t know any. How about a rabbit? My friend, Christy, has a rabbit. I could borrow it and maybe we could shave it and tie down its ears. And then you could like do special effects.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Pete said. “Thanks for showing me the house.”

“Sweet,” she said. “And I think your hair is bitchin’.”

Pete saw Louisa’s eyes widen. “It’s a compliment,” he told her, guiding her out the front door.

“I know that. We say that to each other on Capitol Hill all the time.”

He smiled at her and got a smile in return.

“Now what?” Louisa asked, settling herself into the Porsche.

“I don’t know. This was our one lead. I’m≈usually much more clever than this,” he told her. “The problem is I have these cravings…”

“Nicotine withdrawal?”

“Yeah, that too.”

“Maybe lunch would help.”

He found his way back to River Road and headed for the district. Lunch wasn’t a bad idea, he thought. Someplace dark and cozy. Someplace where they could get to know each other better: Favorite color, siblings, sexual preferences. And it should be close to home in case they got carried away. He didn’t think it would take much to get him carried away. He was already halfway there.

“I know a place on Connecticut,” he said.

“Can you wait that long?”

“If I have to.”

Louisa was apprehensive when she saw his choice. She balked at the door. “This is very nice, but I had something different in mind.”

“What did you have in mind?”

No sense trying to be tactful, she thought. There really was no easy way to put it. “Something cheap,” she said. “I’m unemployed.”

“My treat.”

“Nice, but no thanks. There’s a sandwich shop on the next block…”

Pete slung his arm around her shoulder. He was becoming very fond of her. She was a good sport. She’d only whined a little on the way back to town, and he respected her honesty. There was nothing wrong with admitting you didn’t have any money. He figured since she was so honest, she’d appreciate him being upfront with her.

“I’ve been to that sandwich shop. It’s always busy, and it has bright lights and lots of noise.” He leaned into her and nuzzled the nape of her neck. “This restaurant, on the other hand, has tiny tables and long tablecloths and is dark enough for—”

“This is not a date. And I don’t…do whatever in public.”

“Oh, man, give me a break, Lou. I quit smoking. Look at me, I’m in sensory deprivation. I’m going on frustration overload. I have appetites. I have needs.”

She turned on her heel and headed out the door. “You’re in big trouble if those needs can’t be satisfied with a sandwich.”

He followed her down Connecticut. “You’re a tough woman, you know that? Where’s your compassion? Where’s your sense of charity?”

Louisa rolled her eyes. “Is that what you want? You want me to take pity on you?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him in amazement.

“It’s a start,” he said, grinning.

She opened the door to the sandwich shop and motioned him in. “You must really be desperate.”

“I think I’m in love.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Maybe I should buy you some cigarettes.”

“I bet you’re in love too,” he said.

“You’re an odious person. You steal, you lie, you’re insensitive, inconsiderate, you’re a womanizer, and you make horrible coffee.”

“I could learn how to make better coffee.”

Louisa slid into a booth and looked at the menu. “I’ll have the number three club,” she told the waitress.

“Steak sandwich,” Pete said. He slouched into a corner and stretched his legs the length of the seat. “I’ll concede to being all of those awful things, if you’ll agree to list my good qualities.”

Louisa stared at him. “Good qualities. This is going to be tough.”

His smile broadened.

He was smug, she thought. Add that to insensitive and inconsiderate. She searched her mind for good qualities. She came up empty. A small frown developed between her eyebrows. Ridiculous as it seemed, she liked him. And it wasn’t just sexual, although the sexual attraction was frighteningly strong. He was fun, and he was comfortable. He was impossible to insult. She wouldn’t exactly call it a good quality, but it was a nice change of pace after years of Capitol Hill diplomacy. And she liked the way he was honest about lying.

“Well?” he asked.

“I’m thinking.”

“Jeez. It’s taking this long to come up with one good quality?”

“Maybe I just don’t know you well enough.”

“Okay, I’ll help you out. I happen to have a wonderful sense of humor. I pay almost all