Baker's Dozen

by Amey Zeigler

  “Granger is facing trial, as well.”

  “Your story broke all the records.”

  Andy bowed her head modestly. Her hits were at the top of the charts. “The converter will go back to testing. It’s such a great idea. Too bad so many people were killed to cover up its defects instead of getting it properly vetted. Granger needed it as a matter of political expediency. Timing was everything for his Presidential bid. Tyrone just had too much at stake.”

  They stood there facing each other for a few heartbeats. All the questions were answered. Well, almost. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Christiaan slipped his hand from his pocket, grabbing hers and placing a heavy, metal object into her palm. “I, uh, realized I borrowed your pocket knife. I still had it.”

  “Thanks. That reminds me,” she mumbled, throwing her straps off her shoulder, then digging through a brand new brown weekender tote, producing something of her own. “I said I owed you a jacket. Here.” She handed him a brand-new leather flight jacket. “It’s not exactly the same.” This one had darker leather, almost black.

  “You really didn’t have to.” He threaded his arm into the jacket. “It fits perfectly. Thank you.”

  “Oh, and here’s your cufflink from the party. I used it to prop a door open while escaping from the hospital.” She handed him a little metal clasp.

  “Lekker.”

  Andy gave him a questioning stare.

  “It means awesome. Oh, and this,” he said, reaching into his shirt pocket. “I had this earring, too.”

  Her hand instinctively found her ear, though it was from the pair she wore to the engagement party. “Thanks, I didn’t realize I was even missing it.” She dug some more into her bag. “And here’s a mouthwash cup I snatched from your apartment. I was going to return it after I did some DNA sampling on it to discover who you really were.”

  “Shame.” Opening his jacket, he pulled out her handgun. “Here’s your Sig Sauer you, uh, left at my house.” He held the object in his hand then suddenly, threw back his head and laughed. “Ag, we’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

  His laugh almost made the tears behind her eyes disappear. She hefted the Sig, glad to slide it into her bag.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  “Guess finally hit the Apply button at the CIA. My story broke big, but I can’t stay in St. Louis anymore. I think I’m ready for the next level.”

  Cocking his head sideways, he smiled. “Sure you won’t join us? We could use you.”

  “I may be interested. But I need a break.”

  “You know where to reach me when you’re ready.”

  “I do?”

  “Just send me a text. And I promise I’ll respond, even if I’m over China.”

  Andy stepped closer, remembering how he’d said he was over China the week before the engagement party. “Were you really over China?”

  All pretenses, all covers down. Christiaan trusted her, and she trusted him. “Yes.”

  So, this wasn’t the end. He wanted their relationship to continue. He just told her this might go on. Her eyes leaked water onto her cheek. His forefinger caught the tear. He drew her close. Andy shuddered, searching the depth of his eyes. His hand pressed against the small of her back, drawing her into him, grazing her lips with his. Andy inhaled his intoxicating breath, releasing her desire.

  Trembling from her own heartbeat, she parted her lips as he pressed his own warm and tender on hers. Andy succumbed to his gentle touches, breathing him in, feeling his warmth, her own flush. Andy craved him, her desire growing fierce. She slid her arms around his neck, reciprocating his touch. His pressing intensified. Her heart rate increased as he pinned her to the front panel of the cab, expanding all her pleasure sensors. Her thoughts wandered unrestrained, full of yearning.

  “I ain’t gettin’ paid to watch you tongue your girl,” the cab driver called out his window.

  Without breaking the undulating rhythm of his caresses, Christiaan slipped his hand into his pocket, produced a Benjamin and handed it to the cab driver, who, after taking it, slid his hat over his eyes to nap.

  When they finally broke, still holding each other, Andy could hardly find words.

  “And what if I don’t want to send a text?” she asked, trembling in spite of herself, fearing he detected her attraction, how she wanted so much more.

  He winked. “You’ll have to, if you ever want another kiss from me.”

  “What about Sabrina? Your girlfriend?”

  “Always a little hypocrite, even to the end.”

  Andy crinkled her brow, questioning him.

  He leaned in close, so close his breath tickled her cheek. “How many fake boyfriends have you had?”

  And with one last kiss, he released her, leaving Andy confused and lightheaded. “Text me soon,” he said. “We’ve got work to do.”

  He turned and climbed into his Porsche, the engine roaring away, sounding long in Andy’s ears as a smile crept to her lips.

  A word about the author…

  Amey Zeigler received her B.A. in Communication from University of Arizona. While attending university, she put her studies on hold to live in France and Switzerland for a year and a half.

  When she was nine years old, she started writing romantic mysteries and has been obsessed with the genre ever since.

  She lives with her husband and three children near Austin, Texas.

  http://ameyzeigler.com

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