Fool's Gold (A sexy funny mystery/romance, Cottonmouth Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

family, then threw her a curveball. “So
who were their parents?”
    She stopped, looked at him. Damn, she was
cute. Laughter danced in her eyes as she pretended to ponder the
question. To no avail. “I don’t know.”
    “Then how do you know they were all
sisters?”
    She kept up the play, narrowing her eyes at
him. “You’re trying to trick me.”
    He shined his fingernails on his shirt, which
said it all.
    She flapped a hand at him. “All right, all
right, forget the witches. Who are you like?”
    Caught. The banter hadn’t sidetracked her for
long. “As I said, I’ve never thought about it.”
    “Think about it now.”
    He puffed out a breath. “The tin man, I
guess.”
    “Aha.” She pointed at him. “The man without a
heart.”
    “Actually I was thinking tin star. Because
I’m a sheriff.”
    She snorted. “Lame.”
    It was. He spread his hands. She might be
right. The man without a heart was not a flattering description. It
reminded him once more of his ex-wife and their doomed marriage.
Maybe if he’d been a better listener.
    He brushed the thoughts aside. “It’s the best
I could come up with on short notice.”
    “Maybe you need to watch the movie
again.”
    He might need a lot of things, one of them
being more time in Simone’s company. Except that she could be
having an affair with Carl. Christ, the thought made him wince.
“I’m pretty sure the Good Witch’s name isn’t Glinda either.”
    “We could watch it together and find out
who’s right.”
    She looked at him, all fresh faced, innocent,
and hopeful. His heart flipped over—see, he did have one. He wanted
to say yes. His duty to Maggie stopped him. Watching The Wizard
of Oz with Simone was a bad idea all around. If, repeat if , she was diddling Carl, she was no friend to his sister.
He couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Yet he couldn’t forget the
eagerness with which she’d asked Carl if he’d gotten her email, or
the blush that seemed to cover Carl from head to toe.
    He ignored her implied question in favor of
saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever had the...pleasure of meeting
anyone quite like you. You are...” He paused, scanning her
beautiful, lively face. Charming, funny, witty, a little bit kooky.
Hell, a lot kooky, but dazzling. Yeah, completely dazzling.
“Unique,” he finally said aloud.
    On second thought, maybe what he’d said
wasn’t any better than accepting her invitation. Damn.
    She laughed. “I’m pretty sure unique wasn’t the word you were searching for.” She nodded her head
knowingly, as if she presumed he’d been thinking something
derogatory. “My mother says I’m like a jet engine. Get in my flight
path, and I’ll suck you in one side and spit your little pieces out
the other.”
    “That’s a very nice compliment.” He was sure
it wasn’t a compliment at all. He was also fairly certain he
wouldn’t like her mother.
    She laughed, the sweet sound burrowing into
his belly. “Thank you for lying so gallantly,” she said.
    Damn, he’d wanted to lie for her. He pointed
to the truck bed, needing to end the little tête-à-tête before he
got himself into serious trouble. “I hope you haven’t got ice cream
in there that’s in danger of melting.”
    “No ice cream. Just milk.”
    They couldn’t stand there all damn day, as
much as part of him wanted to. He pulled his shades from his shirt
pocket and hid behind the dark lenses. No two ways about it, he had
to get the freaking question over with and out of the way. For
Maggie’s sake. “Are you having an affair with my sister’s
husband?”
    Her smile died. His insides twisted with the
loss, but he ignored any possible meaning to that.
    She gave him a simple “No.”
    Just as when he interrogated a seemingly
bereaved wife who may or may not have had something to do with her
spouse’s demise, he didn’t apologize for asking. He did, however,
wince inwardly. “Then what was in that email you mentioned last
night?”
    She thought