Black Flame Read Online Free PDF Page B

airport.”
    She left the room, still cupping whatever she was holding in her hands. Her damp hair curved around her face in a way that was quite unsettling, and the pants she was wearing fit her with extraordinary precision—truly, a marvel of engineering. It was only the ding of the microwave that brought Jimmy’s attention back to what he had been doing.
    As he set out the food and glasses of milk—Matthew often used placemats, but in Jimmy’s mind they were an unnecessary step—he made a mental note to contact the electrical supply company and order a new set of gloves. And wondered why the prospect didn’t make him more irritable.

CHAPTER FIVE
    “Well,” Deneen said, chewing carefully. There was something… unusual about the casserole Jimmy had served her. “Thank you so much for inviting me to dinner. What, er, is the main ingredient in this dish?”
    “Gluten,” Jimmy said, drinking a big swig of milk. Deneen hadn’t seen a grown man drink a glass of milk in, well, she couldn’t remember the last time. But somehow it was weirdly sexy, watching the muscles in his throat, the pale milk mustache on his upper lip that he dabbed with his napkin. “Gluten has fallen out of favor in nutritional circles, which makes no sense. For the 99% of humans with no intolerance issues, it is a protein found in some of the most nutritious grains. It’s inexpensive and readily available. I don’t know why more people don’t eat it.”
    Maybe, Deneen thought as she forced down another bite, because it was bland, colorless, and had a weird flavor, at least in this dish. Oh well, at least she wouldn’t starve. “Well, I insist on doing the dishes and cleaning up.”
    “That seems like a good division of labor,” Jimmy agreed. “I will use the time to work.”
    “All right. And then, could I maybe show you what I did for tomorrow?” For some reason, Deneen held her breath. Why did she care what this odd stranger thought of decorations she’d made? They weren’t meant for him, but for the guests at the Christmas brunch.
    He stopped chewing, and stared at her carefully, frowning. Deneen rolled her eyes. For heaven’s sake, it wasn’t a trick question.
    “Yes,” he said.
    Just yes , nothing more. “All right then.”
    “All right.”
    After that they finished eating in silence, Deneen discarding several possible conversational topics. Instead, she snuck glances at Jimmy. Earlier, when he’d been hiding in his little room with the weights, he must have brushed against the unfinished wall because he had a splinter or something on his cheek. It wasn’t bothering her so much as…well, honestly, it was bothering her. If she knew him a little better, she could casually say, “Oh, you’ve got a thing…there, under your eye.” Or she could even reach across the table and brush it away, just a casual gesture, nothing more.
    She reached across the table and brushed at the thing before she could think better of it. Whose hand was that , she wondered, horrified, as her fingers stroked that slightly stubbly, masculine cheekbone? Who on earth would then reach a little higher so she could nudge that lock of hair back into place?
    Who was she? Because Jimmy Mason was not Deneen Burgess’s type, not by any stretch of the imagination; also, Deneen Burgess did not go around touching men who had not expressed interest in her.
    “You had a little thing,” she said, jerking her hand back, feeling her face flame with embarrassment. “I got it off you, though.”
    “Excellent. Thank you.” Jimmy leapt up from the table, nearly knocking his chair over. He grabbed his dinner plate, then hers, making a terrific clattering of crockery and cutlery.
    Deneen didn’t bother pointing out that she wasn’t finished with her casserole. Maybe she could sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night and find something to snack on, but the casserole wasn’t worth tussling over. Besides, Jimmy looked even more mortified than she felt.