Catnapped! (A Matchmaker Mystery Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

red?”
    “Take both and cover all your bases.”
    Pete grabbed two bottles. “Good idea. Thanks.” He took off toward the door again.
    This time it was Jackson’s audible sigh that stopped him in his tracks. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Jackson looking at him like he was a lost cause.
    “What now?”
    “So it’s none of my business, but I gotta ask.” Jackson shifted in his seat uncomfortably, staring at a spot just over Pete’s shoulder. “Have you got a condom?”
    “Ummm,” Pete didn’t want to say that he didn’t think there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Alyssa Montgomery would have sex with him after one dinner. So he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and peered into the billfold. He fished out a crumpled foil packet and waved it triumphantly. “Yup.”
    Jackson groaned. “Just how long has your dry spell been?”
    “Screw you.”
    “Not me,” Jackson countered. “But considering they haven’t manufactured those since the decade started with a zero, I’m thinking you haven’t screwed anyone else either.”
    Pete squinted at the package. “You think it’s expired?”
    Jackson hung his head. “Center console of my truck. Help yourself to a handful.”
    “You go through handfuls?” Pete asked, unaware of any special ladies in his friend’s life.
    “Go,” Jackson growled. “Your dating-challenged self is making me lose my appetite.”
    “Thanks, man.” Carrying the wine and his laptop, he hurried out to his car. Despite knowing that he wouldn’t need them, he dove into Jackson’s truck to grab a handful of condoms. Tossing them onto the passenger seat, he programmed Mildred Michelman’s address into his GPS system and sped away to find a cat.
     

 

Chapter 7
     
    Alyssa prowled around the exterior of the Michelman house. She’d told Roscoe she’d do a security sweep. She’d left him in the kitchen, cooking up who knew what under Mildred’s watchful, some would say interfering, eye.
    While she was grateful Brady had asked Roscoe to help her keep an eye on the old woman, she wasn’t sure how useful the big man was outside of the kitchen. When she’d asked him if he had experience acting as a bodyguard, he’d shrugged and said with a rueful smile, “Sort of.”
    Since she had no desire to share her work history, she hadn’t pushed him about his. She strolled around the old mansion, needing a moment to herself before the smug Pete Hanlon showed up, knowing too much about everything, too much about her.
    She flexed her hands and her knuckles, slightly achy from hitting the heavy bag, wishing she could wipe that self-satisfied grin she imagined he was wearing right that very moment.
    As she reached the edge of the driveway, a pair of headlights arced through the shadows. She raised a hand to shield her eyes as the beam landed on her like a spotlight, temporarily blinding her.
    “Where do you want me to park?” Pete called out through the darkness.
    “In front of the house is fine.”
    He pulled up farther, leaving her once again in shadow.
    Adopting what she hoped was a blank expression, she walked toward his car, some sort of electric hybrid, prepared to deflect any and every personal question he might ask.
    He climbed out of the car. “Red or white?”
    “What?”
    “Wine. Red or white wine?”
    Annoyance bubbled up within her. She thought she’d made it clear this would be a professional, not personal visit.  “I told you. I’m working. This isn’t a date.”
    “And the wine isn’t for you,” he countered. “I’m not in the habit of going empty-handed to dinner at someone’s house. So can you just tell me whether you think she’d prefer red or white?”
    Alyssa blinked, slightly disappointed that the wine wasn’t for her. As much as she’d protested, she’d thought it kind of romantic that he’d wanted to woo her.
    “Earth to Alyssa. Red or white?”
    She swallowed her disappointment. “Red.” Mildred drank a glass