Project Produce by Kari Lee Harmon Read Free Book Online Page A

long, capable fingers slid up my sleeve and under the band of my mitten to draw slow, sensual circles on the center of my palm.
    Could this be called mitten pool?
    Whatever it was, I liked it way too much. My tongue slipped out to moisten lips gone desert-dry. Lord, I wanted nothing more than to jump on him, but I could think of a million reasons why that wasn’t a smart idea. He was a man, for one. That alone should have been reason enough.
    He shot a look at my mouth, and a groan rumbled deep in his chest. Tossing his glasses on the dash, he eased his hand down to rest on my thigh. I blinked rapidly, trying like heck to stay in control. I didn’t need a man, didn’t have a clue how to pick the right kind of man. And men like Hot Britches never hit on women like me. I felt completely out of my league with Mr. I-Can-Have-Any-Woman-I-Want-And-Probably-Have.
    Those expert fingers crept higher, almost causing me to hyperventilate. I couldn’t stop from tracking them, from noticing his olive skin tone. Dylan had nice hands. Long and lean. Masculine. He squeezed and kneaded the muscle of my thigh, while his other fingers worked magic on my palm.
    I had to stop him now before I lost control, so I lifted my face to talk and then gasped. His mouth hovered only centimeters from my own. When had he moved?
    Needing to put some distance between us, I twisted until my back pressed up against the door. He scooted closer, then his warm breath caressed my face, smelling like coffee and spice. My heart beat like a trip hammer, and my breathing quickened. I felt like a doe mesmerized by the headlights of an oncoming car: not quite sure what to make of it but too paralyzed to move. I wanted to make a new life for myself, not fall back into the bad patterns of my old life, but I didn’t know how to tell him.
    He rattled me big time.
    He searched my eyes, apparently seeing the invitation I couldn’t hide, then licked his lips and leaned in. My heart thumped, and alarm bells rang in my ears like a drill sergeant shouting, “Move it, move it, move iiit!” Jerking away, I pulled the door handle and tumbled in a backward somersault out of the car to land in a snow-bank, my stomach stuck in my throat.
    “What the hell? Are you alright?” Hot Britches leaned across my seat and stuck his head out the door.
    I gave him a brilliant but too-stiff smile. “Fine, fine. Just fine. Forgot. Hand on door. Do it all the time.” I scrambled to my feet and fought to catch my breath, backing away toward my apartment.
    His lips dipped down at the corners, and his brow buckled.
    “Call me when free. Pay off debt. Gotta go now.” I raced into my apartment, my Snow Flurries slipping on the ice, then I slammed the door and locked it behind me. Leaning against it, I panted. Okay, more like heaved for air, as I said to no one in particular, “Close. Too close. Way too flipping close.”
    “Big Betty” started up with a loud rumble and idled for a few minutes, so I held my breath. After what seemed like forever, he finally drove away, allowing me to blow out a shaky puff of air. Then I slid down the door and landed hard on my huge insecurity with one thought keeping time with the bongos in my chest.
    What on earth did you get yourself into, Callie Anne?
    ***
    A couple days later, I sat in Big Betty, as far from Detective Cabrizzi as possible. He looked away from the highway to smile at me, but I turned to stare out the window, watching the skyscrapers pass by. Rush hour traffic had eased up, and the snowplows had cleared away yesterday’s snow. All in all, we were making good time, yet it seemed like an eternity. Probably because I hadn’t said a word since he’d picked me up.
    He’d waited a couple days before calling me about our dinner date, or rather, my payment of this debt. I hated owing anyone, but I had to admit the new job was a huge improvement over Roach Central. And I’d only agreed to dinner so we’d be even, plus I still had to question