The Werewolf Dates The Deputy - Kristen Painter Page 0,15
on your garage door?”
She really was losing it. She sighed. “Yes. We can get in that way.” She didn’t wait for him, just went straight to the garage and punched in her code to lift the door.
It went up, revealing her tidy garage. She liked things neat. She also didn’t like a lot of stuff. An abundance of clutter, especially the useless kind, stressed her out. All those knickknacks and decorative things other people filled their homes with? That wasn’t ever going to be her.
What she had in her house and what she decorated with all had a purpose. Or in some rare cases where there was no obvious purpose, they were things she found beautiful or that brought her joy.
Less was definitely more to her.
A new thought struck her. What if Titus was a slob? Or just a really disorganized person? How long could she put up with someone else’s mess? Not long. She might be batty in less than a week.
“Wow,” Titus said. “This is one of the cleanest garages I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks.” She watched his face closely. “So is your garage a hot mess?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. But it’s not this neat.”
That was code for hot mess. She just knew it. Trying not to grind her teeth, she left the garage behind and went into the house. “I’ll just be a few minutes. Have a seat if you like. Or help yourself to something to drink.”
She went straight to the second bath. There were indeed some unmentionables drying on the little wooden rack she’d set up in the bathtub. At least she’d remembered them. She gathered all of it into her arms and turned for her bedroom down the hall.
And ran smack into Titus.
The tangle of brightly colored lace and silk exploding from Jenna’s arms caught Titus off guard. If put on the spot and made to guess what kind of underwear she wore, he would have said white cotton. Or those nude colors a lot of women wore. His ex, Zoe, had always chosen those. Flesh tones. Because they were practical.
Nothing in Jenna’s arms looked practical. Unless neon pink, bright blue and candy-apple red were the new nudes. There was even a lime green in there.
He couldn’t stop staring. Worse, his mouth was open in surprise, and he couldn’t be bothered to close it.
He’d never look at her the same way again. Jury was out on whether or not that was a good thing, given their current bespelled state.
“Do you mind?” She raised her brows. “You’re in my way.”
“Sorry, I was just…” What had he been about to do? He scratched his head. “Are you having trouble remembering things? I feel like I’m struggling with my short-term memory a bit. You think it’s that stuff we were exposed to?”
She nodded, squeezing past him to get to her bedroom door. “Yes. Remember how I forgot my keys? And how you just told me the doctor said we’d forget stuff?”
“When?” Then he laughed. “Did I just prove my own point?”
She laughed, too, but more like she was laughing with him than at him. “I think you did. I won’t be long. I just need to pack enough for a few days.”
“Packing! That’s what I was going to ask you.” His head still wasn’t right after being doused. “Do you need me to get anything together for you?”
“I don’t think so—actually, you could go through the fridge and pack up all the perishables to take to your house. I have steaks in there I was going to make tonight. We could have them for dinner.”
He nodded. “Okay, I can do that.”
“My shopping bags are in the narrow lower cabinet next to the fridge.”
“On it.” He went into the kitchen but took a look around before getting to work. Her whole house was like her garage. Neat to the point of overkill. But then, she worked a lot. Maybe she just wasn’t home enough to make a mess. There were much worse things than being neat.
He pulled out a shopping bag and opened the fridge.
Everything was lined up, label out. Even the half shelf of imported beer. He chuckled. Okay, maybe she was a little obsessive. Everyone had their quirks, right?
He loaded up the bag with everything that seemed important or perishable, then looked around the kitchen for anything else she might need. Was she a coffee drinker? There was a coffeemaker on the counter but no creamer in the fridge. Lots of cops took their