Free Dancing with Detective Danger by Lynn Crandall Page B

eyes, and gazed around Ben’s bedroom.
    “Good morning, beautiful,” Ben said, sauntering into the room with the German Shepherd padding closely behind him.
    The scent of Ben freshly showered wafted around her as he bent low and laid a kiss to her cheek. It was a scent that had always been heady medicine to her. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late,” Sterling said, glancing at the clock beside the bed.
    “Seven-thirty. Yeah, that’s real late, you lazy thing,” he teased, standing in front of the dresser and adjusting his collar to fit his tie.
    “I notice you’re dressed.” A hint of guilt plucked at her conscious.
I should be dressed and ready for work, too, instead of lying here naked in Ben’s bed.
Was it her imagination, or did he seem a little distant?
    “You know me. I get restless if I stay in bed too long. Are you ready for coffee or would you like to shower first?”
    “The coffee smells great. I’ll come out in the kitchen.” Sterling caught his look in her radar
. What is he thinking?
    “Okay, you know where my robe is, so help yourself. And take your time.” He walked out the door and headed to the kitchen without a backward glance.
    Ben’s blue terrycloth robe snugged around her body, Sterling padded barefoot through the apartment and sat in the kitchen chair where he’d set a mug of coffee on the table. She nestled both hands around the cup and drew a mouthful. It tasted wonderful. He sure knew how to make a good cup of coffee. She slowly sipped it, all the while peering at Ben as he set breakfast in front of her.
    “Western omelet and a slice of wheat toast,” he said, sitting down to his own plate across the table from her.
    “You remembered how I like it,” she mused.
    “Oh, you need a fork.”
    Automatically, Sterling reached for the utensil drawer and pulled out forks for both of them.
    “You remembered.” Ben’s eyes bored inside her.
    Sterling shifted uncomfortably in her chair and glanced around the small kitchen. From the old silver toaster to the plain white cotton curtains at the window, the kitchen looked as she remembered it. “You haven’t changed things.”
    “That’s true.” He took a gulp of coffee to wash down his eggs. “I haven’t really thought much about wallpaper patterns or curtains.”
    The phone on the wall rang and Ben jumped up to get it. No question the department was on the other end. Sterling tuned out the words he spoke as all of her attention converged on the sight of him. The tilt of his head, the glossy darkness of his hair, the way he held his mouth in concentration.
    Ben turned to look at her, unleashed a smile, and winked.
    Sterling’s pulse jumped a dizzying degree. Ben seemed so profoundly alive. She’d missed that. It would be so easy to step back into his life. To hardly miss a beat. Like hitting pause on the remote, then turning the movie back on without affecting the story at all.
    Ben hung up the phone and walked around the table, pulling Sterling to her feet. Placing his hands on her hips, he drew her to him and brushed her lips with his. The kiss felt sweet and coaxing. A nuzzle in her hair brought the sound of his breathing up close, wrapping around her thoughts and tugging at her heart. She remembered so many things. His zest for living. His boundless self-confidence. And how when they were together his careless disregard for safety had intrigued her and excited her as much as it had frightened her.
He says he’s changed.
    But his apartment told a different story. Newspapers piled in small heaps around the living room. Dishes stacked on the kitchen counter. Damp towels lying carelessly on the bathroom floor. All indications that the slightly tamed Ben Kirby retained much of his former self.
    Uninvited sensations shimmered through her, set in motion by Ben’s insistent kisses to her neck. He looked down at her, one finger softly tracing the upward tilt of her nose.
    Trembling, Sterling pulled back. “This is all too