Read Wedding Bell Blues for Free Online

closet. Without thinking I pulled out a pair of sweat pants
and a well-worn tee shirt. After taking only enough time to brush my
teeth and take care of a few other things in the bathroom, I started
downstairs. It was time for Detective Colton Dougherty to understand
that he wasn't welcome to do whatever he wanted to here, not any more.
He gave up that privilege a long time ago.
    By the time I made it to the kitchen, I'd worked up a fine
head of
steam. Of course, the fact I hadn't had any coffee yet helped. So did
the remnants of fear that still reverberated through my system. Nothing
would keep me from telling Colton just what an arrogant, inconsiderate
SOB he truly was.
    I stopped into the kitchen and all coherent thought
disappeared.
    Colton
stood before the stove, his back to me. That marvelously well-muscled
back that narrowed into a waist which, if he'd turned, would have so
wonderfully set off his washboard abs. Tanned and gorgeous enough to
eat, he stood there, barefoot and clad only in his jeans, the phone
cradled between his ear and shoulder. His thick auburn hair was
tousled, as if he hadn't yet run a comb through it. I resisted the urge
- barely - to run my fingers through his hair before tracing every
muscle, every finely sculpted line of his back.
    Damn, he could still get my juices flowing.
    Licking my lips and doing my best to get my lust under
control, I
leaned against the doorframe and watched as he carefully took up the
bacon; I winced as the grease popped and his left hand flashed out to
wipe it from his chest. Silly man. That had to have hurt. Why hadn't he
put his shirt on before starting the bacon?
    Then, as if realizing I was there, he turned and smiled that
same
smile I'd learned a long time ago meant he was up to something and I
wasn't going to like it. Big surprise. I wasn't sure I liked the fact
he'd just assumed it was all right for him to stay the night. I sure as
hell didn't like the possible explanations for why he'd stayed - not
that I wanted to think about them just then. But somehow I didn't think
that look was because of either of those reasons. No, he was up to
something, and I most definitely did not want to know what.
    "Dr. Jones, she just walked in. Here she is."
    His eyes danced, and he smiled wickedly at me as he thrust the
receiver in my direction. My mouth went dry. I considered, just for a
moment, turning and running in the opposite direction. Not that it
would do any good. My mother would find me. So I might as will get it
over with.
    What a way to start the day: explaining to my overprotective
and
wedding-infected mother why the former love of my life was answering my
phone so early on a Sunday morning.
    Damn and damn and damn again.
    Colton Dougherty was going to die a slow, lingering death just
as soon as I figured out how to deal with my mother.
    "Morning."
    "Jessica Marie Jones, what is he doing there this early? Are
you all right? Did Colton spend the night?"
    The questions rattled off, just like rounds from a Gatling
gun.
Rounds I wanted to aim at Colton as he grinned unrepentantly at me
before once more turning his attention to the stove and the eggs that
were now ready to be taken up. Well, every condemned man was entitled
to a last meal. He just usually didn't cook it himself. But I was
willing to make an exception since the condemned was Colton.
    "And
a good morning to you, too, Mom." I glared at Colton's back, knowing he
was enjoying my discomfort. The bastard. "I'm feeling much better this
morning, thanks for asking."
    "Don't be bitchy, Jessie." Me, bitchy? Never. "But I am glad
you're feeling better. Did you get any rest?"
    Now, if I were the suspicious type, I'd assume she was trying
to
find out if Colton and I had had sex. Wait, I am the suspicious type,
and that's exactly what she was trying to do. She'd also be wondering
if I had managed to rest any but, just then, her main concern would be
finding out what my former fiancé was doing answering my phone at seven
on