We’re both consenting adults. What have I got to lose? He was hardly aware that rain had started to pelt down in a summer storm until he’d reached the stoop of his building and realized water was dripping off his hair. Shaking like a spaniel, he slammed back into his apartment. He stopped in the doorway, arms full of paper bags, to see Dixie curled up on his sofa, wearing his clothes and apparently darning his socks. Funny how sexy a woman could look wearing a man’s clothes. She looked up and grinned with the familiar Texan sparkle in her eyes—a hint that there was plenty of spark inside her, too. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Honey, I’m home!’” Flynn kicked the door shut behind himself, absurdly glad to see that she hadn’t run off. He’d half expected her to steal his Harley and escape. He asked, “What are you doing?” She held up a needle and the thread she was about to pass through the eye. “Darning a sock. See?” “That’s my sock! Where did you get it?”
What do You think about The Cop And The Chorus Girl?
