Drop Dead Sexy(31)

After finishing my write up, I turned to Ralph. “Can you wait with Randy until the crime lab arrives?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“I appreciate it.”

With Randy’s Emergency Card in my hand, I threw my bag and purse over my shoulder and headed out of the bedroom with Catcher close behind me. After pounding down the front stairs, I walked over to Catcher’s standard issue G-Man car. I was immediately assaulted by a flashback of seeing the car the night before when it was in the parking lot of the Rusty Ho. Not to mention the Holiday Inn.

As I buckled my seatbelt, Catcher cranked up and started down Randy’s drive. “Poor f*cker. He sure did have a nice house and land,” he mused.

I peered curiously at him. “You like this?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Interesting.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy who likes roughing it out in the boonies.”

Catcher chuckled. “Exactly what kind of guy would you say I was?”

“For starters, you seem much more urban.”

“Do I?”

I nodded.

“And that’s where you would be wrong, Miss Sullivan. I’m sure it’ll surprise you that I live on two acres in Dahlonega.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I do. Since I work out of the eighth district, our regional office is in Cleveland, so I wanted somewhere relatively close by.” He smiled. “Not to mention that’s where my family is from.”

“So you have a house and not a condo?”

“Even better than having a house is the fact my brother and I built it.”

My eyes widened as this news was certainly unexpected. “How interesting.”

“Yeah, I can’t take all the credit. My younger brother, Jem, is a contractor.”

“Jem? As in Jeremy Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird?”

Catcher grinned and bobbed his head. “Yep. Another one of my parents’ favorite books.”

“It’s mine, too. My father was a huge fan. He always kept a copy in his desk drawer at the funeral home. Whenever business was slow, he would take it out and reread it. It was the only book I ever saw him reread. Well, except for the Bible.”

“He was a huge fan?”

I bobbed my head. “He passed away five years ago. Pancreatic Cancer.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Our once easy-flowing conversation became strained, like so many times whenever grief or loss was mentioned. Although the great equalizer, death was always the pink elephant in the room—the one sure-fire mood and conversation killer. Pun intended.

“So…” Catcher said breaking silence.

“So what?”

“Are you finally going to answer my question?”

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “What question?”

“Why did you run out on me this morning?”

I shifted in my seat. “Not that again.”

“Oh yeah, that. And since we have at least half an hour in the car, I’m not going to let you avoid it again.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” I grumbled.

Catcher turned to grin at me. “Come on, Liv. The truth shall set you free.”

“Fine. If you must know, I was embarrassed.”

“Of fabulous sex?”

With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “Last night was unchartered territory for me. I’ve never done anything sexual with someone outside of a relationship. Well, at least, several dates.” I shook my head. “In the light of day, I realized what a mistake last night was.”

“You seriously need to get your head checked if you think mind-blowing sex is a mistake.” When I started to protest, Catcher held up one of his fingers. “So what if you didn’t know me that well. You can get to know me before the next time.”

“Next time? I think you’re the one who needs his head checked if you think we’re having sex again.”

“Trust me, babe. It’ll be on like Donkey Kong the minute I have you alone again.”

“Did you honestly just compare our sex life to a video game?”

“Maybe.” He turned and pinned me with his gorgeous baby blues. “Seriously, Olivia, I meant what I said about last night being special. I really do want to see you again and not just for sex.”

I stared at him for a moment, waiting for the punch line or for him to say, “Psych!” But he didn’t. I desperately tried to find a reason to tell him no. But I couldn’t. My heart, mind, and vagina all pleaded with me to give Catcher a chance. Of course, I think my vagina was putting up the greatest argument.

My mind convinced me that the man was intelligent, driven, quick-witted, and pretty freakin’ phenomenal in bed. My heart recalled his moments of absolute kindness and empathy, his defense of me at the bar. Those things were emotional kryptonite to a female heart. Especially one who had been through a dating wasteland.

And my vagina? That greedy little bitch had found the best piece in the candy store and definitely wanted another lick, suck, and swallow.

“So what do you say?” Catcher asked.