Colder Than Ice. Maggie Shayne

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Colder Than Ice - Maggie  Shayne

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vials of insulin before grabbing a small carton of cream. As she poured some into a bowl for the cat—who weighed fifteen pounds if he weighed an ounce—headlights invaded the house from the front, and then footsteps raced across the porch and someone pounded on the door.

      Maude paid no attention. She was looking at the cordless phone that lay on the counter beside the feasting cat, bringing it to her ear and frowning at it.

      Joshua went to the door and, after a cursory look outside, opened it.

      “What is going on?” Beth asked. “Where’s Maude?”

      “Um…” His brain was not processing her questions, because she was standing there in an unbuttoned denim jacket with fake fur at the neck and sleeves, and a T-shirt. Aside from the sneakers on her feet and the goosebumps on her legs, he wasn’t sure she was wearing anything else, and that idea sort of lodged in his brain and wouldn’t let go. “Uh…”

      She snapped her fingers in front of her chest, then raised them to point at her eyes. “Up here, Josh. Hello? You with me now?”

      He nodded. His gaze faltered, started to slide lower again. She had great legs. Kind of funny to see them with sockless feet and running shoes at the bottom and a T-shirt hem at the top, but still…Must be all that running that made them so slender and firm and—

      She hooked a finger under his chin and lifted his head. “Hey, caveman. Me Beth, you Josh. Where Maude?”

      “Kitchen.”

      “Ugh.” She rolled her eyes and walked past him into the house. He followed as if she’d slipped a leash around his neck, barely remembering to close and lock the front door before he did.

      “Beth! Well, my goodness, what are you doing out here at this hour?”

      “My phone rang. When I answered, no one was there, but the call came from here.”

      Maude thinned her lips and sent the cat a glare. “Siegfried! Did you do that?”

      “You think the cat called me?”

      “I have you on speed dial, dear. Siggy had knocked the phone off the charger stand and more than likely stepped on a button or two while he was scavenging the kitchen for a free meal.”

      Beth heaved a sigh and sank into a kitchen chair. “Well, that’s a relief. I thought something had happened.”

      “You don’t need to worry about me, hon. Not with Joshua and Bryan here.”

      Beth slid a glance Josh’s way, and he knew it had been his presence she’d been worried about. She didn’t trust him.

      He turned to Maude. “The question remains, though. How did Siggy here get into the house? I thought it was locked up tight.”

      “Oh, I probably left a window cracked. My bathroom, more than likely. I’m always leaving that one open. Or the basement, maybe.”

      He nodded slowly. “I’ll check them. It’s probably a good idea to try to break that habit.”

      “Hell, Josh, Maude’s got nothing to worry about. Everyone in town adores her, and it’s not like we get any random crime in Blackberry.”

      “Well, you never know,” Maude said. “You feel free to check, Joshua, and I’ll do my best not to forget again.”

      “Kiss-up,” Beth accused.

      Maude sent her a wink. “I’m goin’ back to bed. You two put that cat outdoors when he finishes his cream. He’ll go right on back to Frankie’s. Always does.” With that, Maude left them in the kitchen and headed up to bed.

      Beth sighed. “You may as well go back to bed, too. I’ll head home.”

      “Hell, it’s heading for five-thirty. No point going back to bed now.” He turned to the counter, started running water into a carafe. “I’m making coffee. Stay for a cup?”

      “Sure. Why not?”

      He measured ground roast, poured in the water, turned on the switch. “So you were worried I had done something to Maude and came rushing over here to save her.”

      She frowned at him. “I was afraid something had happened to her. She could have fallen, broken a hip or something.”

      “If she had, didn’t you think I would have taken care of her?”

      “She’s in her seventies, Joshua. Almost eighty. She has to shoot insulin into her veins before every meal, and I know her balance is getting pretty shaky, though she’d rather be shot than admit it. I was worried. She’s my friend.”

      He nodded. “And I’m a stranger.”

      She pursed her lips. “It wouldn’t matter if you were a stranger or not. I…don’t trust men.”

      “None of us?” He made his eyes wide and lifted his brows as he searched her face. “Not even the good ones?”

      “You telling me you’re one of the good ones?”

      “Lady, I am the best one.”

      “You’re full of yourself, too.”

      He let his teasing smile die. “You’ve been burned by my gender before, I take it.”

      She met his eyes, and he saw swirling depths of emotion—whirlpools that threatened to suck him right in. “Burned. Yeah. I’ve been burned. Fell for the bad guy, then was damn near destroyed by the rescuing heroes.”

      He winced inwardly at that, had to avert his eyes briefly.

      “I’ve got horrible taste in men, Joshua.”

      “Then it’s a good sign that you don’t like me, right?”

      “That’s just it. I do like you.” She slid out of her chair and got to her feet. “I’ll take a rain check on that coffee, okay?”

      Without waiting for an answer, she walked to the door. Without waiting for an invitation, he followed her. He reached past her for the door, opened it for her. She turned to look up at him, smiled just a little. “Don’t try to kiss me, okay?”

      He’d been thinking about doing just that, and her frankness surprised him. “How am I supposed to resist? Huh? You show up at the crack of dawn with your hair practically standing on end, wearing a baggy T-shirt and the most god-awful jacket I’ve ever seen—and sneakers. Damn, woman, I’d have to be a saint to resist that.”

      She smiled broadly and turned to step outside.

      Then she stopped and turned back again. She gripped the lapels of his bathrobe, jerked him forward and planted a brief, platonic kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for looking after Maude. It’s sweet, the way you are with her. And with Bryan.”

      “That’s me. Sweet as apple pie.”

      “See you later—on my run?”

      He was

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