Heatwave. Jamie Denton
Читать онлайн книгу.
do the bacon, I’ll do the rest.”
While Drew started the bacon, she avoided anything to do with actual meal preparation and set the table. Her tummy grumbled again thanks to the mouthwatering scents floating on the air. Thankfully Drew’s good manners kept him from commenting. Her own good manners fled the scene when she caught sight of the notepad on the counter.
She counted. Thirteen telephone numbers? And the names of thirteen different women.
Thirteen?
She glanced over her shoulder at Drew. Thirteen?
“Excuse me?”
“Uh…” She hadn’t realized she’d even spoken out loud. “You always this popular, or are you running a sale?”
He turned his head slightly to the side, a bewildered expression on his handsome face. “What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. What had her first impression of him been? Oh yeah. A charmer. The kind of man incredibly dangerous to women who made a habit of picking the wrong guy. The kind she’d never be so foolish to ever fall for again. Especially when he was the kind who collected messages from thirteen different women.
She picked up the pad of paper and started reading. “Leanne, Karenna, Dora, Elise, Sophia and, oh—please—Tiffany?” She laughed and continued reading. “Wendy, Frenchie? Gee, I wonder what she’s known for. Debbie, Amanda, Tilly, Nina, and…”
She peered closer, but the last name was nearly illegible. “H.B? What is that? Code for hot babe?”
A true scoundrel’s grin curved his mouth, and heaven help her, she almost found him irresistible.
“No,” he said, his voice coated with humor. “It’s shorthand for Hannah’s Bakery.”
She dropped the tablet back on the counter, pretending disgust. “I don’t think I want to know what baked goods and a baker’s dozen of women have in common.”
“Since you asked—”
“I didn’t.”
The teasing glint in his eyes said otherwise. “Debbie is my aunt,” he explained. “Amanda is my brother’s fiancée and Tilly is my best friend.”
She pulled plates and soup mugs from the cabinet. “Strange name for a guy.”
“Probably because she’s a woman.”
Now why wasn’t she surprised to learn a sweet-talking, drop-dead gorgeous specimen of male perfection had a woman for a best friend?
“Debbie called to see if I could pick up the cake for Amanda’s bridal shower at the bakery by noon on Sunday,” he said.
“You really don’t have to explain.”
“Tilly,” he said, ignoring her, “wanted to let me know she’d taken care of Cale and Amanda’s wedding present, and my future sister-in-law wanted to know if I’d been able to find the gift she wants to give my oldest brother to celebrate his promotion to lieutenant.”
Emily handed him the dishes then crossed her arms and looked at him skeptically. “Let me guess. You want me to believe you’re really related to the other women on that list, right?”
He shrugged and his grin turned sheepish.
What did she care anyway? She’d sworn off men.
Well, she had!
Fifteen minutes later they were seated at the round oak table in the corner of the kitchen. Drew had unearthed sliced turkey in the fridge, and rather than BLTs, they shared the best turkey Newburg on toasted English muffins she’d ever tasted, expertly prepared by Drew. Which sure beat anything she could’ve created in the kitchen. Almost anything was preferable to her cooking, a term she used loosely.
Emily looked across the table at Drew. The man really was way too sexy for her own good, but she couldn’t think about that now. Or ever, and she firmly reminded her wayward hormones of that telling list of women. There were questions that had been simmering in the back of her mind all afternoon that required answers. With everything that had gone on, there hadn’t really been an opportunity to talk to him privately and when she’d had the chance, she’d allowed herself to be sidetracked by that harem of his.
“Why would a garbage-can fire necessitate an arson inspection?” she asked him suddenly.
He took a bite of his meal and chewed instead of giving her an answer, making her wonder if he’d even heard her.
“I noticed some charred crates, too,” she continued. “And soot stains near the exit. The fire today wasn’t the first, was it?”
Drew let out a sigh and set his fork on the delicate china plate. He’d expected her questions sooner or later. He’d just wished it’d been later, when he had some solid answers. “You’re not a reporter, are you?”
“No. I’m…” She paused and let out a short huff of breath. “I was an advertising executive.”
“Was?” he prompted, attempting to steer the conversation into a more personal direction. Emily intrigued him, but then most women did on one level or another, so he wasn’t overly concerned.
“Corporate downsizing.” She dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. “The fires?”
So much for a redirection of topic, he thought, although he planned a revisit shortly. He wanted to know more about this absent father of her baby, which should be reason enough to ignore the faint stirring of need in his gut whenever he looked into Emily’s big brown eyes. Only he couldn’t seem to help himself.
“Today was the third incident,” he told her.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “The third?” She shook her head as if trying to absorb the information. “Grandy never said a word to me about the fires.”
Maybe because she was guilty as hell. “Maybe she didn’t want to worry her family,” he said instead.
Emily set her plate aside and rested her arms over the oak table. Her frown made a reappearance. He’d known plenty of women in his lifetime, and not a single one of them looked half as tempting as Emily Dugan when they frowned.
“What else has happened?” she demanded. “How long has this been going on?”
“Maybe you should talk to your grandmother about it.” He wasn’t concerned with putting his investigation at risk by sharing information with her, but he did feel she should be talking to Velma rather than to him. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation.
“And let Grandy excuse the incidents as insignificant little nuisances? Not a chance.” Her big soulful eyes filled with determination that matched the firmness of her tone. “Besides, any investigation performed by the fire department is a matter of public record. Which translates to you not being in danger of breaching confidentiality laws by telling me what’s been going on around here. If someone is trying to hurt my grandmother, then I have a right to know.”
She had him there. “What makes you think someone else is responsible?”
Her mouth formed a perfectly shaped “O” before her gaze narrowed. “You can’t possibly believe an eighty-year-old woman is responsible for setting those fires? That’s absolutely insane.”
He leaned back in the chair, enjoying the heat in her voice a whole lot more than was prudent. She was, after all, carrying another man’s child, which classified Emily as strictly taboo, no matter how much she intrigued him. A guy did need to have his standards, and lusting after another man’s woman went against his own set of values. Unless the guy had indeed pulled a disappearing act.
“Is it?” he asked. “Have you taken a good look around? This place is falling apart.”
“That does not mean my grandmother is an arsonist!”
He