leaned forward as he slid another piece of cake between her lips and whispered, “Although they did a good job duplicating it, I think Granny Kay’s is better.”
She swallowed the bite he’d fed her. After taking a sip of her wine, she asked, “You’re kidding, right?”
“About my grandmother’s version being better? No, I’m not kidding.”
She shook her head. “No, about providing them with your grandmother’s recipe to make this dessert. You were kidding about that?”
“No. Dead serious.”
She stared at him. Felt a tightening in her stomach while watching him slide a piece of the cake between his own lips. When a bit of icing clung to the lower part of his mouth, he used his tongue to swipe it away. That same tongue he’d used to mate with hers earlier. The memory had every hormone in her body sizzling. “Why would you go out of your way and do something like that?”
He sliced the fork into the cake again, and when he extended another piece to her, she automatically opened her mouth to him. “Because it was our official first date, and I wanted it to be as special as I think you are.”
She didn’t know what to say. His compliment had rendered her speechless. And then there was that warm feeling that washed over her she just couldn’t ignore. The last thing she wanted to think was that he’d merely given her a line to score, although maybe she should think it. She couldn’t let anything Stonewall—or any man—said go to her head. Her career was front and center in her life. She’d worked too hard to get where she was without letting anyone, especially a man with flowery words, deter her focus.
But still, a part of her couldn’t help saying, “Thank you for the compliment. But do you honestly think I’m special?”
He chuckled again, and the sound was low and seductive. “Hell yeah. You’re a beautiful woman who’s smart and intelligent and who can also kick ass when you have to. What man wouldn’t think you’re special?”
“Plenty of men. You want a list?”
* * *
STONEWALL SLOWLY CHEWED another piece of the cake while looking at her. It was not what she said that concerned him but basically what it implied. He recalled that first night when she’d told him she wasn’t seriously involved with anyone and cited her lack of time as the cause. Was that the only reason?
“You want to tell me about that list?” he asked, slicing his fork into the cake again.
“Not really. It was their problem, not mine.”
“Well, just so you know, kick-ass women turn me on.”
He watched as a sensuous smile touched her lips. His groin tightened in response. “Do they?” she asked.
“Yes. Nothing stirs my blood more than a confident woman. A woman who knows how to take care of business and doesn’t mind doing so.”
She stared at him, as if trying to decipher the truth of his words. There was something ultrasexy about the way her hair tumbled around her face when she tilted her head. “Why?”
“Why what? Why do I admire such a woman? Why would I find such a woman sexy as hell, hot, a total turn-on?”
“Yes.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure why I like strong women. I guess the main reason is that most of the women in my life are strong or have been. Including Mom. She was my father’s partner in all things. He was a dentist, and she was his office manager. He would always say she ran his office like clockwork, which allowed him to concentrate on his patients.”
He paused before continuing. “Then there’s Granny Kay. After my grandfather died she became the one in charge. The one who had to protect her family, namely me and my sister. My grandfather owned several guns, and Granny Kay sold them all and bought one she could handle. She even took classes on how to use it. When decent people began moving out of the neighborhood and thugs began hanging about, word got around that she was an old woman who would shoot first and ask questions later. Just in case they got the mind to test her.”
“Did any of them try?”
“I understand a few did. They soon discovered she was as serious as a heart attack.” He paused a minute and then added, “I’m glad she was able to protect herself and Mellie since I wasn’t around to do so.”
“During your stint at Glenworth, right?”
There was no need to ask how she knew about that. She was a cop, after all, and had access to any information she needed to know. “Yes,” he said, “it was during that time.”
He offered her the last bite of cake, and when she shook her head and said, “No thank you,” he slid it into his own mouth.
“Tell me about it,” she said softly.
He usually didn’t talk about this with women. And yet... “What can I tell you that you probably don’t already know? There’s no way I’ll believe you haven’t looked at my file. After all, you’re a cop.” He knew she must have heard the bitterness in his tone.
“I take it you have something against cops?”
“Depends on the cop. Let’s just say I have a reason not to have a favorable impression of the few I’ve come into contact with.”
“Sorry to hear that. I would be a liar to say all cops are good. There are some who give the rest of us a bad name,” she said with bitterness in her tone, as well. “But I believe most of us do what we’re paid to do and uphold the law while being fair to everyone.”
All he had to do was remember how the cops had worked to get that assassin off the street to know what she said was true. And when Striker’s and Margo’s lives had been threatened, the cops had shown up ready to kick ass.
“And another thing, Stonewall,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “I agreed to go out with you before researching your history. The reason it took us six months to finally have a date wasn’t for lack of trying on both our parts, and it had nothing to do with you once being a convict.”
“I never said it did, Joy.”
She’d spoken matter-of-factly, self-composed, while trying to maintain her cool. There was something sexy about the way her lips curved in a frown and the way she’d tilted her head as if to make sure he fully understood what she’d said, because she had no intention of backing down. The thought that such a gorgeous-looking woman could hold her own made him feel good inside. She reminded him of Mellie, who didn’t take foolishness from any man.
“I merely pointed out that I’m aware you know everything you’re asking me about,” he added.
“But not your side of the story.”
He shrugged. “Does my side matter?”
“Yes, it matters to me.”
He weighed what she’d said, deciding not to read too much into something about him mattering to her. Leaning back in his chair, he said, “Tonight I wanted to impress you, not
