Part 12 (1/2)

”Lucky you, that you're perpetually in the presence of a Reid gal.”

”That's for sure.”

Savannah put the perishables in the refrigerator while he popped himself a beer.

She held up a plastic cake carrier. ”Granny's carrot cake, with cream cheese frosting.”

”Did I say I minded carting that thing all the way here? No. I did not say I minded. Not one little bit.”

”We need to call the gang,” Savannah said as she peeled the top off the cake carrier. ”I promised Tammy I would.”

”No rush. Ryan and John can handle any problems she comes up with, and your grandma's feeding them, so they're all fine . . . uh . . . without us . . . for a little while. . . .”

His concentration lapsed as he watched her drag her forefinger across the top of the cake, then slowly, sensuously lick the frosting from her fingertip.

She noticed him watching her. ”Oh, sorry. I'll cut your piece from somewhere else when we have it tonight.”

He swallowed hard. ”Uh, yeah. Okay. Whatever.”

Slowly she made another pa.s.s through the frosting and held up her finger. ”Want some?”

Without a word, he hurried around the table, took her hand in his, and guided her finger to his mouth.

For what seemed like a very long, delicious time, he licked away every molecule of cream cheese.

By the time he was finished, she was leaning, weak-kneed, against the cupboard behind her.

The next thing she knew, their arms were wrapped tightly around each other. And they were kissing-as though they had just discovered a wonderful new pastime-and sliding down onto the wooden floor.

”I'm sorry. Did you want to go upstairs first . . . get in the bed, where it's more comfortable?” he asked breathlessly as clothing began to come off and sail through the air.

”No!” she said. ”No, I do not!”

”Oh, good! Me neither!”

Chapter 11.

”I've never experienced afterglow on a kitchen floor before,” Savannah said as she and Dirk lay side by side and stared up at the bottom of the table.

Dirk squinted and reached up to touch a small, dark spot on the underside of it. ”Is that a piece of gum?”

”I think so. Leave it alone.”

He turned onto his side, propped himself up onto one elbow, and looked down at her. ”To be honest, till very recently, I haven't glowed all that much. Not anywhere. Not before, during, or after.”

”Yeah, me either. Why you reckon that is?”

He twisted one of her dark curls around his forefinger and thought a few moments before answering. ”From the time I met you, Van, I didn't really want anybody else. I mean, the opportunities were there, but I wasn't all that into it. I wanted you. And I didn't think I could ever have you, so . . . I was sorta stuck.”

”Me too. Sometimes I wonder, if I hadn't had that close call, would we have just gone on like that forever?”

He leaned down and kissed her.

As he did, she had the distinct feeling it was more to keep her from saying any more about that painful subject than it was for romance.

In some ways, she thought her near-death experience had hurt him even more than it had her. She seemed to be recovering from it emotionally faster than he was.

So she returned his kiss and let the subject go for the time being. Why cause him needless pain? What was past was past.

When he finally allowed her to come up for air, she said, ”Are you hungry? Should we attack that fried chicken Granny sent?”

”You betcha! I-”

A loud, rapid knocking on the front door made them both jump.

They sat up abruptly, and Dirk smacked his head on the table.

”Who the h.e.l.l is that?” he said, more than a little annoyed.

Savannah scrambled to collect her clothes, which were scattered to the four winds. ”I don't know, but I can't imagine any of our gang would be rude enough just to drop by without phoning first.”

”If it's any of them, I'm kicking 'em to the curb, no matter who it is. Except Granny, that is, of course.”

He got his jeans on before she could wriggle into all of her female paraphernalia. After only two days of marriage, she had learned that he could shower and get completely dressed in less time than it took her to get the girls tucked neatly into her bra.

Apparently, there were some advantages to being male.

Another round of knocks sounded throughout the house. ”Hold on!” Dirk shouted. ”We're coming, for Pete's sake! You don't have to break it down!”

Savannah had a sinking feeling as she followed him through the kitchen and the dining area and into the living room. She thought of that guy at the ferry dock, taking their pictures, and the little clandestine conversation he'd had with his fellow crewman after they'd pa.s.sed by.

The third round of knocks reminded Savannah of someone else's style of knocking-Dirk's-when he wanted somebody to be aware of his authority as a cop.

As she pa.s.sed the end table, where they had both placed their weapons when they'd entered, she grabbed the guns and shoved them under the sofa cus.h.i.+on.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk saw her. ”Good idea,” he muttered.

Then he strode to the door and yanked it open.

”What?” he barked, as loudly and as cranky as Savannah had ever heard him.

On the other side of the doorway stood a black suit. And the woman in it looked as crabby as he did.

”Chief La Cross,” Dirk said. ”What a pleasure to . . . Oh, h.e.l.l, who am I kidding? No, it's not. What do you want?”

The chief took a step closer to the doorway. ”I want to know why you're back on my island.”