Free The Marriage Profile by Metsy Hingle Page A

impressions could save me some time and might help us find her faster.”
    Her mention about his lack of respect for her abilities reminded him of his earlier behavior. Embarrassed, Justin rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen, about that crack I made earlier in my office, I—”
    Suddenly headlights flooded the darkened road as a sedan turned onto the street. Justin fell silent as the vehiclepulled up and parked in the driveway of the corner condo, two units over from Angela’s. Moments later laughter spilled out into the quiet night air as a man and woman exited the car. The giggles and laughter died as the pair engaged in a steamy, groping kiss that, in Justin’s opinion, went on and on and on.
    â€œThey’re newlyweds,” Angela explained.
    Just what he needed, Justin thought, as the passionate duo locked lips again and made no attempt to move it inside. It reminded Justin of the erotic thoughts that had been occupying his own mind since seeing Angela again.
    â€œMaybe we should finish this conversation inside,” she suggested when the man backed the woman up against the car and began to sample her neck.
    Instead of arguing, Justin followed her into the condo and did his best to wipe away the memory of the early days of their own marriage. Like Angela’s neighbors, the two of them hadn’t been able to keep their hands off of each other, either.
    â€œWould you like something to drink?” she offered after leading him into the den.
    â€œGot any beer?”
    Angela made a face. “Afraid not. I’m sure I have some wine, though. Or I can offer you iced tea.”
    â€œTea’s good.”
    â€œStill drink it sweetened and with lemon?”
    â€œYes,” Justin replied, surprised that she’d remembered, because he’d been sure she would have done her best to forget everything about him. Still, he was pleased that she hadn’t.
    â€œMake yourself comfortable,” she told him, motioning to the couch. “I’ll only be a minute.”
    But instead of sitting down, Justin checked out the room. It was larger than he’d first suspected. The walls had been painted a basic white, but big leafy green plants had been tucked in strategic corners. And an eclectic mix of paintings provided splashes of color ranging from sunset orange to midnight blue. Two overstuffed chairs and a couch with an afghan tossed over one arm had been grouped around a marble-and-glass coffee table that was stacked high with books, photos and candles. Huge throw pillows lay on the floor in front of a stone fireplace and gave the room a cozy, welcoming touch. Angela may have moved in only a few days ago, but the place already had a lived-in, homey feel to it.
    â€œHere we are,” Angela said as she entered the room carrying a tray with a pitcher of tea, two glasses and a dish of extra lemons.
    â€œLet me get that for you,” Justin offered, and took the tray from her and placed it on the table.
    â€œThanks,” she said politely.
    Following her lead, Justin sat down. The awkward silence that had hung between them in his office earlier that day reared its head again while she poured them each a glass of tea. Worse, there was a sense of intimacy at being alone in the softly lit room with her that made him far too aware of Angela as a woman and the fact that he was still attracted to her. Determined to say his piece and get out of there as quickly as he could, Justin began, “About that crack I made back in the office about your dreams…I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
    â€œSo you think my psychic mumbo jumbo might actually help us to find the baby, after all?”
    Justin grimaced. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Mason. Just because I don’t buy into the psychic stuff doesn’t mean I don’t recognize that you’re good at your job. You are. I doubt there’s another profiler in the country who’s better.