Opposites Ignite by Sadira Stone (crime books to read .txt) 📗

knocked on the hot pink door, which flew open to reveal Rosie just as rumpled as her mom. But on Rosie, rumpled looked sexy—probably because of his delicious memories of rumpling her.

She clapped a hand to her mouth and tugged him inside. “Shit, is it noon already? Lemme get dressed.” She kissed him hard and deep, tugged a fuzzy sweater over her T-shirt and a short skirt over her leggings. While she unsnarled her hair, he sat on her bed.

“Whatcha working on today?”

She pointed with her brush to the window table, where a half-tattooed foot sat.

Suppressing a shiver, he examined it. An elaborate Celtic knot design on the instep unraveled into vines climbing the ankle, complete with green leaves and thorns dripping blood. “You show these to your prospective bosses?”

Her eyes grew round. “No way.” She fastened a jeweled clip into her riot of curls. “It’s considered bad form to start on this stuff before you get an apprenticeship. Makes you look like an amateur.”

“This doesn’t look amateur to me.”

“I don’t make the rules.” She dabbed on scarlet lipstick, doing that sexy pucker-kiss thing.

Closing his arms around her middle, he watched her oral gyrations. “I’m just gonna kiss it off, you know.”

She wiggled her ass against him. “I like to look pretty for you, babes.” She’d taken to calling him that lately, and it tickled him to no end. So did the pressure of her hips against his.

He nuzzled her curls. “Maybe we should skip lunch?”

She smacked his rear. “I was promised a fahn-cy lunch, and I’m holding you to it.”

Mid-day traffic wasn’t too bad, and soon he parked across from King’s Books. The Irish pub next door was nearly full, but he found a table in back. A gum-popping server brought them leather-bound menus and pointed out the specials.

Rosie glanced around. “Great ambiance, right? Love all the dark wood.”

He nodded. “No dartboards, though. Weird, in an Irish pub.”

Rosie flipped through her menu. “Did you know Bangers was originally an English-style Pub? My parents used to go there back in the day. Speaking of bangers, I’m going to try them. Never had a real one.” She winked. “You know how fond I am of a spicy sausage.”

His cheeks heated.

Of course, Rosie noticed. She slipped off her shoe and stroked her foot up his calf. “Succulent and firm and juicy.”

His face burst into flame.

The server interrupted, thank God, before Rosie’s teasing reduced him to a pile of horny ash.

After he ordered shepherd’s pie and Rosie ordered the bangers and mash, Eddie pulled his notebook from his jacket pocket and scribbled a few observations about the floor plan.

Rosie tapped the open pages with her fork. “Taking notes again?”

He pointed to the mic stands in the back corner. “This place has live music. Good choice. Brings in new customers.”

The server delivered their plates. Rosie forked up a mouthful of mashed potatoes, clutched her chest, and moaned. His stupid dick perked up, pressing painfully against his zipper.

“Sooo good!” She lifted a forkful to his lips. “You gotta try these.”

He had to agree, they were fuckin’ superb, creamy and rich with hints of garlic.

While they traded bites and double entendres, the couple at the next table vacated their spot, and someone sat beside him in a flurry of unfurling coats and scarves. He kept his focus on Rosie. Who knew mashed potatoes and sausages could be so sexy? Then a hand clamped onto his arm.

“Oh my God, Eddie?”

Mashed potatoes everywhere—that’s what happens when your ex-girlfriend you haven’t seen in years plops down next to you, just as you take a bite.

Rosie grabbed her napkin and wiped gobs of his lunch from her face and chest.

He leapt from his seat, yanking his arm free from Courtney’s grip. “Oh God, Ro, I’m so sorry.”

Rosie made a choking sound, her expression froze somewhere between horror and laughter.

Courtney clapped a hand over her mouth and tittered. She’d changed. Her formerly wild hair was slicked into a smooth twist, her glasses were gone, and she’d lost weight. But she still had that irritating high-pitched giggle. Her lunch companion grabbed napkins from the next table and handed them over. “Everyone okay?”

Rosie stood and scraped a blob of mashed potato and gravy from her skirt.

“Eddie can get that out, right Eds?” Courtney assured her.

By now, the ruckus had attracted their server’s attention. She hustled over, cleared away their plates, and wiped the table while Courtney chirped apologies.

Her date handed the server his credit card. “I’ll get your lunch. She’s bringing fresh plates.” He tucked his wallet into his expensive-looking tweed jacket.

“Oh, Eric, you didn’t need to do that,” Courtney simpered. “That was totally my fault.”

Eddie found his voice at last. “Rosie, this is Courtney Jurich.”

“We used to date,” she added.

It had been six years since their graduation from Tacoma Community College. Headed for UW’s business program, Courtney promised they’d keep their romance alive despite the distance. Two weeks into the fall semester, she broke it off. He’d braced himself for that message but found it didn’t really hurt all that much. They were on different paths, and their two-year affair had run its course.

Courtney’s date cleared his throat.

“Oh, this is my fiancé, Eric Feinberg.”

Rosie shook both their hands as if it were the most normal thing in the world to meet your boyfriend’s ex in a shower of carbs.

Eddie clasped Rosie’s hand under the table. She squeezed back and pulled their joined hands onto the table in clear view of his giggly ex.

No one spoke, just lots of awkward seat wiggling and darting glances. Finally, Rosie turned to Eric. “Are you from Tacoma?”

He flashed a wide smile that brought out a dimple in his Superman chin. “Kent, actually. Court and I came down for a conference.”

Courtney nodded vigorously. “Twenty-first Century Business Leadership.” She beamed at her tall, buff boyfriend.

“You finished your MBA, then?”

“Two years ago. Didn’t I tell you? How about you?”

No reason to feel defensive, yet his spine still stiffened. “Still working on my Bachelor’s.”

“Oh.” Courtney’s brow furrowed as if he’d