Read Mr. Kiss and Tell for Free Online Page B

Hunter.
    When she’d been living in her father’s house, it had been inevitable that she’d feel in some vague way like a teenager again, as if she’d been tugged backward in time toward everything she’d tried to walk away from. But here was the evidence that she’d
chosen
this town, this lifestyle, this career. It didn’t hurt that the apartment was better than anything she could have afforded in New York. The entire Brooklyn studio she’d had through law school would have fit in the bedroom here.
    The kitchen, tiled in white and cherry red, was visible on the other side of a high counter lined with stools. She opened the fridge and grabbed last night’s take-out. She didn’t even bother heating it. Grabbing a fork, she took it back to the bedroom. A single light shone under the door.
    “You’re still awake?” she said softly, pushing the door open.
    Logan sat up against the headboard, bare chested, the blankets pulled up across his lap. The TV on the top of the dresser was tuned to
The Daily Show.
The sight of his military-grade biceps sent a flutter through her sternum.
    Okay, what first? Binge-eat sesame chicken, change into pajamas, or jump straight into bed with the half-naked boyfriend?
She compromised by taking a bite and then setting down the container to undress while she chewed. The half-naked boyfriend, after all, would be a lot more enjoyable if she took the time to get out of her suit.
    “You’re home late,” Logan said, and she could feel his eyes on her as she wiggled out of her skirt and hung it carefully back on its hanger. “But I should have guessed. Your family throws the best after-acquittal parties.”
    “We still had some leftover balloons from yours, so we just reused them. Weevil didn’t seem to mind.” She turned around, still in her camisole and underwear. His eyes tracked her closely, but she picked up the take-out container and took another bite, standing just out of reach and feigning obliviousness to his gaze. “What’d you get up to tonight?”
    “Not much. I got home late myself.”
    “
Another
homoerotic-beach-volleyball emergency?” She put a hand on her hip. He smirked.
    “Whatever it takes to keep Am’urca safe,” he said, saluting smartly.
    “I thank you for your service.”
    The novelty of seeing him there in her bed still gave her a little thrill, even though he’d been more or less living with her since he’d returned from his naval tour in the Persian Gulf two months earlier. Before that, they’d been apart for six months. And that was nothing to the nine years they’d been apart before
that
. It was no wonder she was constantly startled by the simple, shocking pleasure of waking up to find him within arm’s reach, of coming home to find him there. The domestic bliss was…well, blissful. Neither of them had been prepared for that, lifelong adrenaline junkies that they were.
    Logan had been reassigned to San Diego for his shore rotation, where he flew F/A-18 Hornets for the Fleet Readiness Center, helping them run diagnostics. “Basically, I try to help them find out what’s busted before it’s too late to fix it,” he’d told her. Veronica didn’t love that job description, but it was definitely better than picturing him running missions over enemy territory. Definitely better than trying to grab snippets of conversation with him long distance, never knowing if the connection would be good enough, or if he’d be called away and unable to meet her online.
    For a moment she almost blurted out the details of the new case—leaving them sketchy to keep the girl’s privacy, of course, but filling him in on the basics. Instead, she set down the take-out box and went to the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth. They had a no-cases-in-the-bedroom policy. Too often her jobs involved other peoples’ infidelities—not the best pillow talk. But it became especially necessary in cases like these, when she was looking into something truly ugly. She