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Kaz up and down, I’m surprised goose bumps didn’t blossom on his arms.
    “Who are you in trouble with now?” I asked him.
    Kaz has a way of stepping back, throwing up his hands, and proclaiming his innocence. It’s a great act. Too bad I’d seen it so many times, I know it means he’s as guilty as hell. He did it now, and when I didn’t immediately cave, he looked genuinely disappointed.
    “Come on, Jo.” He poked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You know me better than that.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    One heartbeat.
    Two.
    When you’re married to a man like Kaz, you learn how to work a punch line.
    “That’s why I’m asking.”
    There was no point in waiting for him to tell me I was wrong. Of course, that’s exactly what he was going to do. Of course, he’d be lying through his teeth. I started walking. It was the un-subtlest way I could think to show Kaz we had nothing to say to each other. Not anymore.
    He tagged along. Just like I was afraid he would.
    “You think I’m here to ask for money, don’t you?”
    I didn’t even bother to give him so much as a sidelong look. But then, I could afford to act like I wasn’t concerned. For one thing, because I wasn’t. For another, it was exactly what I expected him to say. “I think somebody you owe money to is looking for money,” I said. “And since they didn’t find any in the Button Box the other night—”
    “What the frig!” He clapped a hand on my arm and stopped me so fast that, before I knew it, we were toe-to-toe. Kaz is a heavy-equipment operator at the Port of Chicago, and he looks the part. Wide shoulders. Slim hips. Abs that won’t quit and biceps that owe their definition not to some fancy equipment at some fancy gym, but to long days of hard work.
    That is, when he isn’t dodging that hard work so he can place his next bet.
    He cocked his head to give me a probing look. When I saw a wave of concern cloud his expression and actually thought it might be genuine, I gave myself a mental slap. “You mean somebody broke into your shop?”
    “Come on, Kaz.” I ripped my arm out of his grasp. It was that or fall into the trap of remembering how good it felt to be skin to skin. Believe me, this wasn’t the time or the place for that. Or the century. Or the universe. “You’re telling me you’re not into somebody for big bucks?”
    “That’s not what we were talking about. We were talking about somebody breaking into your store. How much did they take?”
    “How much did they need to take to cover your losses?”
    He flinched, and honestly, I might have fallen for the whole wounded-animal look if I hadn’t seen it . . . oh . . . about a million times before. My exasperated sigh pretty much said it all, but just in case he wasn’t into nuances, I spelled it out for him. “I don’t know what they took. Not yet. I’m putting my inventory back in order and I worked on it all day today and I’m tired and I’ve got an appointment I have to keep so maybe I’ll just see you around sometime.”
    Nuances aren’t Kaz’s thing. Neither is the oh-so-obvious. When I started up again, he didn’t get the message; he was right at my side. “I had nothing to do with any burglary, Jo. I swear.”
    Honest to Pete, I wished I could believe him.
    And I knew if I did, I’d only be proving that I never learned my lesson. This time, I did look at him, out of the corner of my eye. “You didn’t answer my question. I asked if you were into somebody for big bucks. Then again, I don’t suppose I need an answer. Why else would you stop to see me? It’s always all about the money, isn’t it?”
    “Just happened to be in the area.” There was that grin again, hotter than the sun in Barbados and just as dangerous to those who were foolish enough to go out without plenty of protection. “Who says I can’t stop in to see my favorite button collector?”
    “I’m the only button collector you know. You made sure of that