Read Online Demise in Denim by Duffy Brown - Free Book Online

notch; actually it kicked up three notches, and my insides were on fire.
Think of something else besides Boone
, I ordered myself.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” the officer said. I recognized that voice, and it didn’t conjure up happy memories. Deckard! It was the cop who pulled me over when I was driving Boone’s car. See, I could think of something else besides Boone . . . until he scooted left and I realized I wasn’t the only one affected by our present close situation.
    â€œI’m rescuing my poor little puppy here,” KiKi said. “We were walking along like we do every night about this time, and lo and behold if he didn’t pull away from me, the little rascal.”
    Holy cow. If KiKi said the back door was open, Deckard and his merry men would search the house and find Boone and me and the peanut butter crackers.
Think, KiKi, think
, I sent out in mental telepathy.
    â€œHe pushed on the back door and he ran in,” KiKi said. “Mr. Boone lives here, you see, and gives my dear doggie treats, and now that the poor man is on the run, I figure puppy just misses him something terrible and came inanyway.” KiKi’s voice warbled and she added some sniffing for good measure. Auntie KiKi, the queen of bull.
    â€œThe dog pushed on the door?” Deckard asked in a not-convinced tone.
    â€œHe’s a strong pup, and I’m betting the back door was ajar all along. You know how nothing fits quite right in these old houses,” KiKi said. My guess was she was gearing up to play her trump card that could get her out of any and all sticky situations, especially with the fifty-somethings born and raised on Savannah cuisine.
    â€œWell, I best be going now,” KiKi added. “I’ve got to get back home to my wonderful dear husband. Maybe you know him? Dr. Vanderpool, but we all call him Putter.”
    â€œDoc Putter? The cardiologist? Yes, indeed, I sure do know the man,” Deckard said, his voice now sweet as Auntie KiKi’s peach cobbler. “He carries that putter with him everywhere. Fact is, he did a triple bypass on my mamma last year. She’s better than new, I tell you. Lord be praised and alleluia. You go on home, Mrs. Vanderpool, and the boys and I will lock up. Tell the doc that Deckard sends his best now, you hear? Sure is a cute little puppy you have here.”
    There was a scurrying of footsteps that drowned out the rest of the talk, followed by doors closing, and then more doors closing, and then dead silence. It was best to wait to make sure no one was in the house and that no one came back, but I’d been divorced for two years and not had the pleasure of male companionship for longer than that, and here I was front to front with Walker Boone, hands down the most handsome guy in Savannah, who had kissed me senseless one day ago.
    I opened the pantry door and jumped out with Boone right behind me. I took one look at him, moonlight in his hair, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, and silhouetted in the patch of white. A girl could stand just so much temptation. I threw my arms around his neck and dove in for a kiss till Boone took my arms and set me back.
    â€œDid you read the note I sent over with Chantilly?” he asked. “What happened to
stay out of my house
? Have you been eating in the car?”
    â€œAll you can think about is your car?” I pointed the heel of the satin shoe at myself. “What about me?” I twitched my hips, jutted my boobs, and held out my arms. “What about
this
? I got pretty good
this
, you know.”
    Boone swallowed and looked pained. “You ate chocolate in the car, didn’t you?”
    â€œMaybe a little, and it was before I got the note.” I took a step toward him, and he took a step back and ate another cracker. “We can’t do this, Reagan,” he said in a ragged voice.
    â€œOh yes we can,” I said, my voice equally ragged. I felt devil