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reached the clock. Ten A.M. And today was . . . |
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"Tuesday." He jumped to his feet. |
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D.J.'s gaze snapped toward him. "What?" |
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"I'm supposed to be somewhere right now." |
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"I thought you wanted the fifty-cent cop tour." |
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"Later. Right now I have to go." He headed toward the back door, then paused. He'd thought of the perfect way to get his lusting libido under control. He'd take D.J. with him on his errand. Once there, she'd prove to him she was in no way cut out to be anything more than a helpful addition to his next book. "Why don't you ride along with me?" he asked. |
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"I can wait here." She gazed out the window at the fading splendor of the wildflowers. |
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"I'd rather you came along. I can ask you some questions about your job on the way. Then we won't be wasting the morning any more than we already have." |
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D.J. turned away from the window with reluctance. "All right. Since you insist." She followed him out to the garage. |
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He handed her a helmet, which she took into her hand as though it might be diseased. "You have a motorcycle?" Her nose wrinkled on the last word. |
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"Yeah." He went inside and rolled the bike out onto the driveway. After fastening his helmet he turned back to D.J. She still stood where he'd left her, helmet in her hand. "Aren't you going to put the helmet on? Good to be safe." |
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"I'd rather not get on that thing." |
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"What?" Chris would have thought D.J. would be just the type of woman who'd relish a motorcycle |
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