Free Crazy on You by Rachel Gibson Page B

didn’t have a pet because she wasn’t home enough to take care of one. Now that Griffin was gone, Pippen was harassing her for a dog.
    When Tucker didn’t answer her question, she looked up over her shoulder at him. He stood in the middle of the room—two mugs of coffee in his hands, like his feet were frozen in place. “What?”
    “What are you wearing?”
    She stood. “A comfy nighty and my cowboy boots.”
    “Panties?” He held the mug toward her as his eyes slid over his body.
    “No self-respecting Southern lady leaves the house without her hair in place, her makeup done, and her panties on.” She took the mug from his hand and blew into it. “That sort of fast behavior could lead to a bad reputation. I went to high school with Francine Holcomb, and she left the house without wearing her undies on more than one occasion. Her reputation never did recover. ’Course, everyone knew that Francie was as loose as grits, bless her heart.” She took a sip. She was nervous and had to stop before she sounded like her mother. “How was your day?”
    He brought his gaze up to hers. “Better now.”
    For the first time since she’d stepped in his kitchen, she noticed the pinch of exhaustion at the corners of his brown eyes. “You look tired. Did something happen at work?”
    He shrugged a shoulder and leaned his hip into a counter. “I responded to a call about one this morning at Rodale Jewelry store on Seventh near the highway. When I got there, a guy was trying to kick in the back door. He saw me and took off.” He took a swallow of coffee. “I chased him for about half a mile before I caught him climbing inside a Dumpster behind Rick’s Bait & Tackle.”
    Lily wrinkled her nose. “Did you have to climb into the Dumpster?”
    “I grabbed his belt just as he was diving in and pulled him back out. It was real ripe too. Smelled like Rick had just thrown out some expired bait. If I’d had to jump in there and get covered with fish eggs and dead crickets, I’d have been pissed.”
    She couldn’t imagine running in work boots and gear. She was in good shape, but probably would have passed out after a hundred feet. “Was he from around here?”
    “Odessa.” Tucker looked at the scratches across the back of his hand. “He was scrappy for such a skinny guy.”
    Lily moved toward him and took his hand in hers. “How’d this happen?”
    “He didn’t want to be cuffed very badly, and I scrapped it on the concrete trying to dig his arm from underneath him.”
    She raised his hand to her mouth and lightly kissed it. “Better?”
    “Yes.” He looked back into her eyes and nodded. “He tried to kick me in the balls too.”
    “I’m not going to kiss your hairy balls, Tucker.”
    He chuckled like he thought he was real funny. “Didn’t hurt to mention it.”
    She dropped his hand and thought for a moment. “Well, maybe if you got them waxed.”
    He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Do men do that?”
    “Some men.” He looked so horrified it was her turn to chuckle. “They wax their whole bodies. It’s called manscaping.”
    He set his mug on the counter. “No one is going to put hot wax anywhere near my balls.” He ran his hands up her arms and pulled her close.
    “Don’t be a baby.” She set her mug on the counter next to his. “I get waxed.”
    “I noticed.” He grinned. “I like it. It makes going down on you real nice and neat. I can see what I’m doing.”
    Her eyes widened and she felt color creep up her cheeks. “You looked at my . . . my crotch.”
    “Of course. My face was down there. I don’t know why you’re embarrassed. You’ve got a real nice . . .” He paused as if searching for the right word then gave up. “I don’t like the word crotch . I’ve got a crotch. You’re all high and tight and pretty down there. Like a juicy peach.” His brows drew together. “Or is that one of those things I shouldn’t say?”
    She didn’t know. She supposed it was a