Memories of Us Read Online Free PDF

you perfectly, McMillian.” She straightened. “Are we finished?”
    He nodded. “I’ll be back in at the end of the day. I want another report then.”
    She smiled, the expression cold, a little feral. “Of course.”
    Turning, she strode from the room, the bag tapping against her hip. Tom rubbed a hand over his eyes. He’d handled that well.
    Just like a jealous ass would.

    The audacity of the man. The absolute gall.
    Celia shoved her office door open. “Are you ready to go?”
    Cook glanced up from his file. “Uh, yeah. But it’s not even eight. The judge won’t be in his office until at least a quarter to nine.”
    “By the time we drive to Moultrie, the lab will be open.” She tossed the bag on her desk. What was McMillian’s problem? He didn’t want her, she was an adult, so what the hell did it matter who she slept with?
    Not that she’d ever sleep with Mark Cook. Humorless laughter bubbled in her throat. McMillian had lost his mind.
    Cook straightened to a sitting position. “Then we’ll have to make a second trip over there with the blood sample.”
    She blew out a long breath, trying to still the fury sizzling throughout her body, shortcutting her brain. Cook was right. She wasn’t approaching things rationally. And she was proving McMillian right too. Letting her emotions affect her job.
    She tapped a finger against her forehead. “Had breakfast yet?”
    “Does an overdose of squad-room coffee count?”
    Her skin itched, feeling too tight. “Let’s go get something before we meet Judge Baker.”
    “Sure thing.” He gathered his notes and crammed them in the file folder. She ushered him out the door and toward the back exit. McMillian stepped into the hall as they passed, briefcase under his arm, keys in hand. Their eyes met and she lifted her chin, determined not to back down.
    His gaze slid to Cook at her side, but he didn’t acknowledge him. “I’ll see you this afternoon, Celia.”
    Her anger pulsed, but she merely smiled. “Of course.”
    She continued walking, refusing to look back to see if he followed them. Cook’s footsteps thudded on the metal stairs behind her and he fell into step beside her once they reached the parking lot.
    He glanced over his shoulder and whistled low. “He looks pissed. What was that all about?”
    “What do you mean?” She stopped at his patrol car and waited. Behind her, McMillian’s Mercedes purred to life. A knot gathered at the base of her neck. Lack of food and sleep, obviously. She’d been unable to rest at all, questions about the baby bouncing around in her head. The stress making her temples ache had nothing to do with McMillian and his accusations.
    Her feelings weren’t bruised, either.
    “All that tension and ice. What the hell did he say to you earlier?” He unlocked the car and Celia slid into the passenger seat. The strong scent of wintergreen gum blended with the disinfectant used to clean the stainless steel rear seat.
    She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes while fastening her seatbelt. A harsh laugh worked its way free from her throat. “He wasn’t happy about our interaction last night. He thinks we’re sleeping together.”
    “You wanna?” Grinning, Cook fired the engine to life.
    “No.”
    “Damn.”
    Her laugh this time was less abrasive. She glanced out the window as he backed out and eased into the alleyway alongside the office building. The anger gripping her chest lessened somewhat, giving way to a vague sense of hurt disappointment.
    She was crazy with wanting McMillian and he thought she was involved with someone else. Damn his blind hide. Damn her, too, for wanting the ass in the first place.
    Slowing for a traffic light, Cook slanted a glance at her. “Listen, St. John, I’m sorry if I caused trouble for you.”
    “No.” She waved his apology away. “It’s just McMillian being his normal self.”
    Wicked glee glinted in his gray eyes. “You mean an arrogant dickhead?”
    A puff of laughter escaped