Tongue-Tied by Colleen Collins

Author:Colleen Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

7

ROBIN SIGHED again as she stared at the most gorgeous bouquet of flowers she’d ever seen in her entire life. And this time, she wasn’t being overly dramatic. It was the biggest, most lavish arrangement she’d ever seen—and it had been delivered to her! From the best guy in the world. Johnny.

She’d spent most of the last few hours this way, sprawled in her recliner, staring at the bouquet that she’d positioned on her desk so Mick could enjoy it, too. The little bird probably thinks he’s been transported to a lush jungle, mused Robin.

Jungle. Isn’t that how Johnny saw her? Wild, forbidden, lusty? Oh, yeah, he’s got it right, she mused, kicking her fuzzy pink-slippered foot in time to the music, one of the Stones’ rockin’ tunes. Its deep, thrumming bass matched her pounding heart as she reread the note.

“To our next cup of hot coffee.”

Whoa, baby! Soon they’d be more creative than just plain ol’ hot coffee. Soon it’d be hot coffee with frothy milk, a dash of vanilla, maybe a tantalizing trace of mocha….

Now she had to lie back in the recliner and rest awhile after thinking of all the creative combinations of hot coffee and hot love a bad boy and a jungle girl could concoct. Just the thought of what they’d do next time, or maybe tonight, made her pant.

Unfortunately, Johnny had left so quickly for work this morning, she hadn’t had the chance to tell him that tonight was her night off. There was a chance he’d show up at Davey’s Diner around midnight to walk her home, so she should somehow let him know she wouldn’t be there. She’d checked her phone book and there was no listing for a Johnny Dayton or a J. Dayton, which meant she’d have to call Information to get his number. Oh, ugh. Who was she kidding? She hated using the phone—hated being on the spot to speak fluently to the automated response system. And she didn’t want to call Davey’s because she didn’t know who she’d get on the line—and she didn’t want to suffer through a stuttering, stammering conversation that’d go nowhere.I’ll just wait until he shows up here…which will be sometime after midnight.

She checked the kitty clock on the wall. Seven-forty. What in the hell was she going to do with herself for four-plus more hours?

She snapped her fingers and grinned.I’ll plan on something sensually creative to wear!

Her smiled dropped as her foot paused midkick. Something sensually creative? She didn’t exactly have a Mata Hari wardrobe stashed away for special, sexy nights. But she must have something sexy lying around. She pursed her lips and contemplated possibilities. Well, there was her old drill-team outfit that hung in the back of her closet. She could wear that short-short skirt with nothing on underneath—her foot started kicking again—but forget the sweater with the high school initials “BV” sewn on the front. She could envision herself opening the door, and his saying, “Give me a B?”

Not the effect she wanted.

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