Shimmy Bang Sparkle(8)

“You bet I followed you,” he said, and slipped his sunglasses into his jacket pocket.

He must have seen me steal the ring. In my head, I saw our local five-o’clock news anchor—too much hair spray, too much foundation, and totally stationary eyebrows. Next to her unmoving face was a picture they’d taken off my Facebook profile, probably me kissing Priscilla. Or worse still, a mug shot. “Today in Albuquerque, thirty-four-year-old dog sitter Stella Marie Peretti was arrested on charges of felony theft and pawning stolen property. She is currently being held without . . .”

“What are you up to?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

Cue the da-dun scene change noise from Law & Order, because this was it. I was a goner. It was orange jumpsuits and tube socks for me from now on. Goodbye Bad News Bears and hello Orange Is the New Black. Maybe he was an undercover cop, and the swagger was hiding a gun and a badge. My heart took a tumble in my chest. I’d been so close to being done with all this jewel thievery, and now I was going to get carted off for saving Mr. Bozeman’s bacon.

But the train hadn’t officially gone off the rails, not yet. When in doubt, I’d always found being myself to be a safe bet. There’s no story like a true story. “I’m just the girl next door.” I pointed to my apartment building.

He scoffed at that, like he really wasn’t buying it. “Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely!” I blurted, about ten notches too loud. “American as Dunkin’ Donuts and second mortgages!”

Oh, Stella. No. Just, no.

He nodded and slipped his hand inside his jacket. My heart plummeted even further. I could almost hear the clatter of the handcuffs already. “Well, Girl Next Door . . .” he said.

I tried desperately to keep the grimace off my face. This was it.

Instead, he pulled out . . . my phone! I reached out for it with both hands like a child reaching for a cupcake. “How in the world!”

“It fell out of your purse.” He turned it over in his hand and ran his rugged thumb over the pink rhinestone star, then put it into my palm. “And I wanted you to get it back.”

I pressed my phone to my chest. It was warm from being in his pocket. No, not warm. Hot. Like him. Hotcha, hotcha, hotcha. “Thank you. So much.” Yet relieved though I was, it didn’t explain everything. Or actually anything, really. “So wait . . . you followed me . . . on errands?”

Nick tipped his head to the side, like he understood that wasn’t exactly logical. “I’d have stopped you at Big Ed’s, but I was having too much fun watching that guard chase you around the parking lot. So I followed you here instead.”

Though I was grateful, I was just a teensy bit annoyed. I didn’t need a hero—never had and never would. But then again, if it hadn’t been for him, I’d have had to go back to Albuquerque Jewelers, which was never going to happen. So I lowered my drawbridge, just an inch. “Thank you,” I said once more, still clutching my phone in both hands like it was the Holy Grail. “I really appreciate it.”

He waved it off and smiled. He ran his hand through his hair, then reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his keys. “My pleasure,” he said, spinning his keys on his key ring, meeting my stare.

He stopped spinning his keys. For a long moment, eyes locked, we both stood there frozen. I hadn’t felt so tongue-tied in twenty years. He moved his eyes down over my body very slowly; then he bit his lip and shook his head.

It was the very same way I reacted to a second piece of flourless chocolate cake. I shouldn’t. But I really, really want to.

Gulp.

He laughed a little to himself almost and inhaled long and slow. I knew that one too—the inevitable surrender. Except all those lusty glances, all that hesitation, all that desire and turmoil . . . wasn’t about cake. It was about me.

Heavens. The drawbridge I’d lowered an inch felt like it was about to come flying down.

“Listen,” he said softly, and stepped a little closer. “My plan was to give you your phone and hit the road. But that’s not what I’m gonna do.”

My knees felt wobbly like they did on those days when I forgot to eat breakfast and consumed nothing but iced tea, banana Laffy Taffy, and watermelon jelly beans, only to realize at three in the afternoon that I was about to pass out. He was so close now that I could smell his cologne. It was woodsy, musky, and perfect. Mayday! He stepped into me and pressed me against the side of my Jeep. “I want to ask you a question instead.”

My gulp was so loud it sounded like a hiccup, and my mouth actually dropped open when I looked into his eyes. The sun was shining into them—a light brown, marbled through with flecks of green and rimmed in a brown so rich it might’ve been black. “OK,” I whispered. Actually whispered!

“No hesitation,” he said, dark and deep. “Like word association. Don’t think, just answer.”

I almost blurted out, Take me. But somehow, I managed to restrain myself. I pressed my lips together and felt a little woozy, looking at the gritty texture of his stubble. He wasn’t merely yummy. He was downright dreamy. “All right.”

“You ready?”

“I think so.” My voice was breathy, and my whole body was buzzing. He was so close I could feel the heat of his body spilling into mine.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, raising his eyebrow. “You got it?”