Free Too hot to sleep by Stephanie Bond Page B

duty for the blood bank, but she didn’t want to eat with him. “No.”
    “Oh, come on,” he cajoled. “No matter what you say, I saved your life yesterday. You owe me a hot dog or something. Besides, it’s my birthday.”
    At the sight of his shining brown eyes, she wavered. He was impossibly appealing, that was certain. And although she could’ve saved herself yesterday, he had stepped in. “Well—”
    “Ken,” a man behind her yelled. “Happy Birthday, man!”
    They were back, the entire crowd, escorting a blonde dressed in a traditional nurse’s uniform. Ifnurses wore white miniskirts, that is. And five-inch heels. But the little cap that secured her bound hair was very convincing, and the black-rimmed glasses made the woman look almost smart enough to wade through the schoolwork necessary to become an R.N.
    Georgia shrank back as the woman advanced and set a boom box on his desk, then pressed a button and began to undulate to a stylized version of “Happy Birthday” set to bump and grind music. Georgia’s tongue settled into her cheek.
    The woman tore off her nurse’s cap, releasing her golden hair, swinging it in her customer’s face. When the blonde began to unbutton her blouse, Georgia stumbled backward to the entrance, battling an onslaught of emotion. Some dark side of her wanted to see how the man would respond to the blatant display.
    Officer Medlock was loving it. Not in a lecherous, lip-smacking kind of way, but in a good-natured, teasing kind of way. The woman was down to bikini top and skirt, wrapping her arms around Ken’s neck as she danced around him. Georgia’s eyes drooped as she imagined herself in the woman’s place, peeling off her clothes for an audience of one.
    But for whom?
    Her eyes popped open. What was she thinking? When the woman pushed Ken into his chair and climbed onto his lap, she fled.
    Georgia was glad to have a block to walk off her discomfiture before reporting for her volunteer work. Her steps were deliberately slow in the cloying heat, and she ducked under awnings whenever possible toescape the intense rays of the sun. But her breathing accelerated when she thought of the scene she’d just left. The good thing was that the performer’s appearance had spared her Ken Medlock’s company. Georgia worked her mouth from side to side.
    The bad thing was that the performer’s appearance had spared her Ken Medlock’s company.
    She shook herself, dismayed at her train of thought. At the sight of the blonde, he had instantly forgotten his invitation. Georgia pushed down the troubling images of sharing an intimate snack, then grabbed a jumbo pretzel from a street vendor, and hurried into the municipal building in anticipation of occupying her hands and her mind.
    Since she’d given him the phone number of the likely owner of the dog, they had no further ties. In fact, Georgia could think of no circumstances whatsoever under which she and Officer Ken Medlock would be speaking in the future.

10
    “I ’D LIKE TO REQUEST Nurse Georgia Adams,” Ken told the woman signing in volunteer donors.
    She brazenly looked him up and down. “Are you a friend of Georgia’s?”
    No, but we’ve had sex. “She and I are acquainted.”
    The woman’s face registered understanding. “Oh, wait. Are you the cop who nearly got her fired?”
    He smiled wryly. “Well, I do have other claims to fame.”
    The woman eyed the nightstick at his side and lifted one thin eyebrow. “I just bet you do. Right this way, Officer Medlock.”
    He followed the skinny woman, amused that she appeared to know Georgia and Georgia’s business. It occurred to him that the woman might be helpful. “Are you the friend of hers who’s getting married?”
    “Oh, no, that’s Stacey Alexander. I’m Toni. Toni Wheeler.”
    He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Toni.”
    “Likewise,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes.
    He saw Georgia before she saw them. She was bandaging the arm of a middle-aged man who’d