Valentine's Day Is Killing Me by Leslie Esdaile & Mary Janice Davidson & Susanna Carr

Author:Leslie Esdaile & Mary Janice Davidson & Susanna Carr [Esdaile, Leslie & Davidson, Mary Janice & Carr, Susanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Romance, General, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 9780758212856
Google: q5gbvNz0W0gC
Amazon: 0758212844
Publisher: Brava
Published: 2007-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

She dropped her keys twice, fumbling with the door. Dating etiquette raced through her mind. What was protocol, and according to whom? She tried not to seem nervous and to keep her conversation light and airy as she opened her door and they went up the steps. It had been more than three years. There had to be some clemency in that. The dating pundits would have to forgive her, because this man had her dangerously on the edge of propriety.

But she would be cool, she told herself. She tried not to wig as he crossed her threshold. She hadn’t had a man in her apartment for years. What was the procedure? The magazines were at odds—the more racy articles suggested just letting the inner tigress out. The more conservative ones said, not on the first date. Her momma’s advice went out with high-button shoes, but did it? Her girlfriends were no help; they even contradicted themselves.

“Okay, this is it,” she announced.

The look on his face was somewhere between sucker-punched and open desire. When his full lips parted and he began inhaling through his mouth at the same time his eyes went to half-mast, she knew she had to clarify fast.

“My humble little abode,” she quickly corrected. She did a comical pirouette in the middle of the floor, thoroughly flustered that he’d taken what she’d said the wrong way—or maybe the right way; either way, it came out a little too direct. “You can hang your coat there, the kitchen is that way, or if you want to wash your hands in the bathroom, it’s that way. Oh, let me take your coat. You hungry—no, we just ate. Uh, coffee. Right. Coffee.”

She watched him slowly unzip his bomber jacket and lower his head as though trying not to burst out laughing.

“Jocelyn, coffee is fine. I can find my way to the bathroom.”

“Good!” she said too loudly. “I’ll make coffee, okay?”

He nodded, chuckled softly, and walked through her living room. She almost passed out when he left the room, and she grabbed onto the coatrack to keep from falling down. Idiot! How could she sound so lame?

She snatched off her coat and flung it on the rack, tugged her sweater down, and made a mad dash for the kitchen. Where was her coffee? She yanked open cabinets, frantically searching in them like she’d been robbed. Jocelyn froze. This could not be happening. The post-party recovery had exhausted her supply. Supply—oh, Lawd…she had no supplies in case of emergency…If this tall hunk busted a romantic move and swept her off her feet, her medicine cabinet was bare. No birth control! Everything had gone in the trash with the last bogus boyfriend and was history. Ancient history.

Anything that might have been salvaged from SueLin’s erotic product dealer had been either taken downtown for evidence, or thrown in a garbage bag by her professor. She almost groaned out loud.

Jocelyn peered at the two huge black bags tied up and leaning against the lower cabinets by the trash, and cringed.

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