He had the make and model of the car, along with the first two letters of the plate, which was a start. He’d give them to Maria, see if she could narrow the search. He’d heard that she was downright scary on a computer, able to find things no one else could. That might mean a few questions from his friends at K2 on just what Riley Austin was to him, and he didn’t know the answer.
He jerked awake the moment the nightmare started. It was the first time he’d been able to do that. When had he fallen asleep? Glancing at the clock and seeing that it was five, he got up. The last thing he wanted was to nod off again and have the dream take up where it had left off. He dressed, ran eight miles with the dogs, came home, showered, used the trimmer on his shaver to neaten his stubble, and then got out his recipe for the breakfast he planned to make for Riley.
Riley groaned when the alarm clock buzzed, and she slammed her hand down on snooze. When it went off the second time, she blinked her eyes open. Pelli stared back at her from his perch on her chest.
“Hey, you.” He let out a plaintive I’m-so-hungry meow. “Poor starving baby.”
On Saturdays, she opened her clinic from eight to three for those who worked during the week. Picking up Pelli, she slung her feet over the edge of the bed. Arthur rubbed his body along her legs, and Merlin sat in the doorway with his back to them all. Riley glanced at the clock again, furrowing her brows. Why had it gone off an hour earlier than normal?
Then it hit her. She was having breakfast with Cody, and she jumped up, causing Pelli to dig his claws into her T-shirt to keep from falling to the floor.
“Ouch, Pelli, that hurts.” She dislodged him from her shirt and set him down. With a speed she wasn’t normally capable of in the mornings, she fed them, and then jumped in the shower. After drying off, she debated what to do with her hair. For work, she always wore it up in a ponytail, but she decided to leave it down for her breakfast with Cody.
Next problem, what to wear to a breakfast date where a discussion of when she and her freaking hot neighbor would have sex was on the menu? That he’d offered to make her breakfast had pretty much blown her mind since he didn’t seem like a man who would be comfortable in the kitchen. If he put a bowl of cereal in front of her, though, she planned to praise it like Chef Bobby Flay—her secret crush—had served it to her.
“Concentrate, Riley. Clothes.” Normally, she wore an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt to work in, with a lab coat over them. This morning, she wanted something special. She decided on black skinny jeans, black knee-length boots, and a red V-neck sweater. Underneath, she wore her new matching black bra and panties. Not that sex was also on the menu for this date, or whatever the hell it was, but she wanted to feel sexy. The lace trim around their edges felt foreign on her skin, yet stimulating. It was about time she was stimulated by something, and that something was a quick walk across the street.
At six thirty-one, she pushed Cody’s doorbell, her heart beating like she was racing in a marathon. Never had she been this excited and this nervous about being with a man. Her date with Mike—had it only been last night?—had been nice, and that had been the problem. She didn’t want nice. That was Cody’s fault. Before him, she was sure she would have enjoyed Mike’s company. Now, there was only one man she wanted.
The door opened, and Pretty Girl and Sally came tumbling out. They took a few moments to greet her before tearing off into the yard. Lifting her gaze to Cody, she sucked in a breath at the way he stared at her, as if he could gobble her up. The stubble on his face gave him the dangerous appearance that she loved on him. He wore a pair of jeans that looked old and soft, a dark blue short-sleeve knit shirt, and a pair of leather flip-flops.
“Hey,” she said, pleased that her voice didn’t come out sounding all breathy.
“I like your hair down.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“I like it in a ponytail, too.” He stepped back, waving her in.
“And your hair’s wet.” Gah, was that the best she could come up with?
“Just got out of the shower.”
As she walked past him, she could smell the fresh scent of soap. An image of him in the shower, all soaped up with droplets of water glistening their way down his naked body, flashed into her mind. She stumbled.
“Whoa.” He caught her arm. “I’ve got you.”
And so he did. She’d been brave last night—forward, more like—kissing him even when he had tried to push her away. Not so much in the light of day, or she’d be kissing him this very minute. Her gaze was drawn to his bare forearms, where the muscles flexed from holding her. She’d always had a weakness for men’s arms, and his were downright perfect.