To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether tis nobler to suffer… Oh. Hi. Yeah, in case you didn’t guess, today’s #1LineWed theme is questions. So, here. Enjoy this scene from THE DEVIL’S CUT where Caleb and Adele play 20 Questions. Plus, bonus, this is their first meeting. 😉
Crime scene tape fluttered around the front door. Adele gave the Ford Explorer with New Mexico tags a cursory glance. More interesting was the uniform from Evergreen PD sitting in his patrol car, head back, snoring. She tapped on his window and he jumped so hard he rammed his crotch into the steering wheel. She bit her lips to keep from laughing.
The guy glowered as he lowered his window. “What?”
She flashed her CBI ID and nodded toward the SUV. “Who’s here?”
Dang it! She should have known this would happen, but how did the news leak?
“How long has she been here?” Everyone in law enforcement had heard of Special Agent Sade Marquis, head of some fancy FBI unit that dealt with the magicks.
“Don’t know who you’re talking about. It’s a dude. He showed up at the station this morning to see the chief. After lunch, chief sent me out here with him to unlock the door. Dude told me to wait outside. Worked for me. This place gives me the creeps.”
Yeah, she knew that feeling. “Great. Fine. Log me in as going into the scene.”
Adele pushed open the massive door and stepped inside. Her boots echoed on the granite floor with a dull thud. Standing in the living area, she debated where to start.
“Who are you?”
She screamed before she could catch herself, and whirled to face the man standing in the archway that led downstairs. “Crickets on a cracker. You scared the bejeezus out of me. You must be the Fed.”
“Guilty as charged. And you are?” He raised a bushy brow at her, a brow that got lost under a fringe of messy dark hair. His cheeks and rather chiseled jawline were covered with fine, dark scruff. Amber eyes watched her, unblinking, and her hind brain considered survival. Which meant running. Like crazy. But her human brain decided that was a bad idea. She wasn’t prey.
“Adele McCoy. Colorado Bureau of Investigation.”
“Ah, yes. The tech investigator.”
She bristled but bit back a retort. “Turn about’s fair play. You are?”
“Special Agent Caleb Jones.”
Her libido sighed and fluttered eyelashes at him as he prowled closer. Adele froze while her inner slut squeed. Wait? What? She had an inner slut? Very Special Agent Caleb Jones was the enemy. Here to snatch her case away.
“I understand you have the scene evidence?”
“Uh huh.” God, was she drooling? Not that he wasn’t drool worthy—all six musclely feet of him. Her fingers itched to brush the shaggy hair out of his eyes. Her lips actually tingled as he dropped his eyes to look at her mouth.
“You should breathe, Ms. McCoy.”
“Uh huh.” She was breathing. Wasn’t she?
A smile crept across his face and she wanted to bite his full, bottom lip. She was in so much trouble. He leaned down and her breath caught in her lungs, which was bad because now his leather jacket tickled her breasts through her cashmere sweater.
“Do you have them with you or do we need to go to your office?”
She wanted to inhale again, to breathe the air from his words. She didn’t. Instead, she exhaled with her third brilliant reply since his appearance. “Uhm…”
Poor Adele. She’s just been slapped upside the head with a dose of Magick Male™. Who else has questions to share?