Read Online Jaid Black by One Dark Night - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: One Dark Night
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at the local grocery store. “Ah,” she muttered, “here we go.”
There was only one carton of pistachios left, she noted with a frown. She didn’t want to have to return to the store for another shopping expedition anytime soon, but one carton wasn’t liable to get her through one week, let alone two!
Pistachio ice cream, pistachio pudding, pistachio anything—her favorite indulgence. Rarely did she whip up a dessert that didn’t somehow feature pistachios in it. Kim had teased her about that fact back when they’d shared an apartment in Cambridge. Many a night her best friend had good-naturedly complained that if she was fed any more pistachios she’d probably grow a shell.
“Where the hell are the pistachios?” a deep male voice growled, forcing Nikki’s attention two nut displays over. Her eyebrows rose as she watched the man verbally castigate an unsuspecting stock boy, and then narrowed when she realized just who the horrid male customer was.
Her lips pinched together disapprovingly. Too bad Detective Grouch was such an ass, she thought grimly. It was a shame when a fellow pistachio connoisseur was also a first-rate jerk.
Detective Cavanah apparently shopped at the same grocery store Nikki did. The football jersey and sweats he wore declared him off duty, as did the lack of a gun holster. But somehow the officer looked even more dangerous in his street clothes, she decided. Perhaps because it was easier to see just how heavily muscled he was all over, from his vein-roped arms to his solid chest to his powerful thighs.
“The pistachios,” the stock boy replied undaunted, “were moved over to make room for the walnut-and-almond display.”
“Walnuts and almonds, walnuts and almonds.” The grouch rolled his eyes. “I don’t want that girly food. What does a man have to go through these days to find a basic pistachio?”
The stock boy frowned, finally somewhat exasperated. “He has to walk two displays over. Somehow, I think you’ll survive the grueling trip.”
The grouch muttered something under his breath about smart-ass teenagers as he stomped off, prowling in Nikki’s direction. The detective glanced up just then, his body momentarily stilling when his gaze clashed with hers and comprehension of who she was dawned.
His dark eyes narrowed a bit, leisurely raking over her face, and then down lower to her breasts. His gaze paused there a lingering moment before slowly returning to her face.
A tremor of awareness coursed through Nikki, causing her heart to beat in a strange way. It was an awareness she recognized, but one she couldn’t explain. Nor was it one she wished to analyze or dwell upon.
She frowned. Vein-roped arms or not, Thomas Cavanah was and, as far as she was concerned, always would be, a first-rate jerk. She picked up the last carton of pistachios and held onto it for dear life.
The grouch studied her quizzically for a moment or two, wondering at her actions. Finally he glanced down and, noticing that she’d managed to snatch the very last carton of pistachios, scowled. “What the hell?” he muttered.
Her spine straightened, her posture defensive. “I believe this just isn’t your day,” she sniffed. “I guess you’ll have to go to Howard’s down the street and try to find some pistachios there.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “I just came from Howard’s,” he bit out, his tone even surlier than it had been. “They’re out of pistachios, too.” He grunted. “You’re just doing this to get back at me. Put down my nuts and back away slowly, lady.”
Nikki’s face slightly colored when two strangers glanced up and gave them a bemused look. Her nostrils flared as she cocked her head and glared at her nemesis. “These are my nuts,” she hissed challengingly. “Finders keepers. Losers weepers.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I see we passed the third grade,” he growled.
She smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “And I see that you’re leaving here nutless.” She
There was only one carton of pistachios left, she noted with a frown. She didn’t want to have to return to the store for another shopping expedition anytime soon, but one carton wasn’t liable to get her through one week, let alone two!
Pistachio ice cream, pistachio pudding, pistachio anything—her favorite indulgence. Rarely did she whip up a dessert that didn’t somehow feature pistachios in it. Kim had teased her about that fact back when they’d shared an apartment in Cambridge. Many a night her best friend had good-naturedly complained that if she was fed any more pistachios she’d probably grow a shell.
“Where the hell are the pistachios?” a deep male voice growled, forcing Nikki’s attention two nut displays over. Her eyebrows rose as she watched the man verbally castigate an unsuspecting stock boy, and then narrowed when she realized just who the horrid male customer was.
Her lips pinched together disapprovingly. Too bad Detective Grouch was such an ass, she thought grimly. It was a shame when a fellow pistachio connoisseur was also a first-rate jerk.
Detective Cavanah apparently shopped at the same grocery store Nikki did. The football jersey and sweats he wore declared him off duty, as did the lack of a gun holster. But somehow the officer looked even more dangerous in his street clothes, she decided. Perhaps because it was easier to see just how heavily muscled he was all over, from his vein-roped arms to his solid chest to his powerful thighs.
“The pistachios,” the stock boy replied undaunted, “were moved over to make room for the walnut-and-almond display.”
“Walnuts and almonds, walnuts and almonds.” The grouch rolled his eyes. “I don’t want that girly food. What does a man have to go through these days to find a basic pistachio?”
The stock boy frowned, finally somewhat exasperated. “He has to walk two displays over. Somehow, I think you’ll survive the grueling trip.”
The grouch muttered something under his breath about smart-ass teenagers as he stomped off, prowling in Nikki’s direction. The detective glanced up just then, his body momentarily stilling when his gaze clashed with hers and comprehension of who she was dawned.
His dark eyes narrowed a bit, leisurely raking over her face, and then down lower to her breasts. His gaze paused there a lingering moment before slowly returning to her face.
A tremor of awareness coursed through Nikki, causing her heart to beat in a strange way. It was an awareness she recognized, but one she couldn’t explain. Nor was it one she wished to analyze or dwell upon.
She frowned. Vein-roped arms or not, Thomas Cavanah was and, as far as she was concerned, always would be, a first-rate jerk. She picked up the last carton of pistachios and held onto it for dear life.
The grouch studied her quizzically for a moment or two, wondering at her actions. Finally he glanced down and, noticing that she’d managed to snatch the very last carton of pistachios, scowled. “What the hell?” he muttered.
Her spine straightened, her posture defensive. “I believe this just isn’t your day,” she sniffed. “I guess you’ll have to go to Howard’s down the street and try to find some pistachios there.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “I just came from Howard’s,” he bit out, his tone even surlier than it had been. “They’re out of pistachios, too.” He grunted. “You’re just doing this to get back at me. Put down my nuts and back away slowly, lady.”
Nikki’s face slightly colored when two strangers glanced up and gave them a bemused look. Her nostrils flared as she cocked her head and glared at her nemesis. “These are my nuts,” she hissed challengingly. “Finders keepers. Losers weepers.”
His eyebrows shot up. “I see we passed the third grade,” he growled.
She smiled sweetly—too sweetly. “And I see that you’re leaving here nutless.” She
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