by Tina Susedik
“Hello. Is Susie here?” a man asked, his voice low and pleasant.
Cassie’s hand paused on her chest. For a brief moment, she felt like someone had slugged her in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs. She pressed the towel to her chest to hold her racing heart in place.
Standing on her doorstep was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Dark wavy hair hung over one eye. Twin dimples smiled at her. He stood a step below her on the porch, yet she still had to look up, giving him a good three inches on her five-foot-eight frame. He wore a navy blazer over a light blue Henley and dark jeans. Eyes the color of milk chocolate peered through wire-framed glasses. He stepped back and checked her house numbers.
“Excuse me. Do I have the right house? Does a Susie live here?” he asked, his deep voice sending vibrations through her body.
Cassie swallowed the extra saliva flooding her mouth. “I’m sorry. Who do you want?”
“Susie,” he answered, his eyebrows bent in a frown. “I was told I could pick up my basketball shoes from her. I’m Hogan Wynnters.”
A scream rattled through her mushy brain. Not caring who was at the door or what he wanted, she raced back through the house. As she entered the kitchen, her feet slid across the carrots on the floor. Her right leg went one way, her left another. Her teeth jarred together when she slammed to the floor. Tingles of pain shot up her rear end into her back. After a moment of disorientation she noticed rivers of milk streaming down Billy’s face, then turned at the sound of the man’s voice.
“Is everything all right? I know CPR. Can I help?”
Cassie opened her mouth, but it was too late to warn him about the slippery floor. She watched as he unerringly followed her steps, landing hard on his back, sliding to a stop against her side. She wanted to die. This gorgeous male was Rob’s friend?
Cassie wasn’t sure how to react to this hunk lying on her kitchen floor, until she saw the corners of his mouth twitch. Torn between being mortified and laughing at the absurdity of the situation, she wiped a carrot-stained hand on her shirt and smiled. “Hi. I’m Cassie Jordan.”
Chapter 2
Hogan blinked twice to clear his vision. This was Bess’s sister, Susie? He blinked again and looked into the biggest sky-blue eyes this side of Lake Michigan. His heart did a funny flip, rather like the time he decided to take a helicopter ride, and his buddy paid the pilot to take Hogan for a spin. A short ride and one barf bag later, his feet—if not his heart and stomach—were firmly on the ground.
Not that he felt like throwing up when he gazed at those baby blues, but his hands started sweating, his pulse picked up speed, and his head spun. And it had nothing to do with the crash landing on her kitchen floor.
Cassie’s curly red hair hung in disarray around her face, reminding him of the glow around the sun on a hot summer’s day. Freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks. His heart took another leap. He loved freckles and red hair. Somehow his brain finally kicked into gear.
He rose up on his elbow, pushed his glasses into place, and took her hand. “Are you hurt?”
She peered cross-eyed through her bangs, wiped a hand across her face, and smiled. Hogan felt as if he had been in six months of Alaskan darkness with the sun finally appearing to warm the earth. Except it was his heart being warmed.
Her grin turned into a husky laugh, sending a surge of energy racing through his body to land squarely in his crotch. Shit, he was in trouble. The woman making him feel like a teenager learning that girls weren’t so bad after all, the one Bess called Susie, was none other than the person he was to investigate for the FBI.
Hogan moved away and took in his surroundings, finally noticing the crying infant, Bess’s two girls staring at him, and an upturned bowl on the floor. Orange skid marks ran across the floor. Splatters of the same hue speckled cupboards, towels, and the children.
“Carrots?”
“Strained,” she answered, taking a deep breath. Cassie rose and reached out a free hand to help him. “Careful,” she warned.
Hogan grabbed her hand. Electricity shot from her fingers to his. He jerked his hand away and looked from his hand to hers, trying to figure out where this reaction came from.
“Emily, it’s Mr. Hogan!” Jazmine yelled, running over to her aunt. She tugged on Cassie’s pants. “Auntie Susie, it’s Mr. Hogan!”
“I sure hope so, Jazmine. Or you just let a stranger into the house.” Cassie picked up her niece and gave her a squeeze. “Didn’t I tell you not to open the door, young lady?”
Hogan looked back and forth between Cassie and the children as he wiped his hands on a towel Cassie handed him. “What are the kids doing here?”
“My sister laid a guilt trip on me, so they’re here for the weekend. She told me you were coming.”
“I suppose it would be rather scary having a stranger come racing into your house like some knight on a charger, wouldn’t it?” Once again her smile put his brain cells into a skid.
“I don’t think a knight on a mission to save the damsel in distress would have made as grand an entry as you did,” she joked, letting Jazmine slide down her leg to the floor.
“Ah, yes, that was some entry,” Hogan joked back and was rewarded when Cassie’s face turned a becoming shade of pink. He walked to the kitchen sink. “May I?” he asked, holding out his stained hands. At Cassie’s nod, he turned on the water. “So you didn’t answer my question.”
Frowning, Cassie picked up a damp washcloth and wiped Billy’s face.
“Why do you have Bess and Rob’s kids for the weekend?”
Hogan hid back a grin as Cassie tried to keep up with Billy moving his face back and forth to evade the cloth.
“They showed up at my door an hour or so ago saying they had to go to Florida for a conference. Something about Rob’s boss being sick or something and having to take his place. Bess knew I was home for the weekend and just assumed I would take care of the little devils.”
Keeping his sight on the backyard, Hogan turned off the water and dried his hands on a rather thin towel.
“Why do Bess and the girls call you Susie, when your name is Cassie?” he asked, wondering how the FBI missed that little tidbit.
Cassie chuckled. “My middle name is Susan,” she answered, struggling to remove the high chair tray. “My father always called me Cassie Sue. When Bess was little couldn’t pronounce all the s’s and called me Casusie. Eventually it became Susie. My family is the only one to call me that.”
“Here, let me,” Hogan said when the tray resisted her attempts to release it. He moved her hand, pressed the release buttons on the sides, and lifted, raising the entire high chair in the process.
“This. Thing. Is. Tight.” He grunted between each word. Finally the right side loosened. Before he was able to lift the tray, his feet slipped out from under him. Before he could stop himself, his legs slid toward hers, hit her feet, and sent her flying. Hogan slammed onto his back. Her arms waving in the air like a windmill, Cassie landed across his torso, her face just inches from his.
Hogan moaned.
“Oh my gosh. Are you all right?” Cassie pressed her hands against the floor and pushed up from his body.
Hogan grabbed her around the waist, held her in place, and closed his eyes. “Don’t move,” he groaned. “Give me a few seconds to assess the damage.”
This was an opportunity too good to pass up. It had been a while since he’d held a woman, and this one was feeling better by the second. If letting her think he was hurt would keep her soft, tempting body on top of his, he’d pretend he had a broken back or neck or leg. Her scent of baby carrots mixed with . . . Sawdust teased his senses. Why would she smell like sawdust?
This instant reaction to a woman was unusual. Cassie’s breasts pressed against his chest and if he knew his womanly parts, and h
e did, she wasn’t wearing a bra. He was two seconds short of running his hands under her shirt and over her bare back just to be sure.
His other option was to move his hands down her small waist, over her softly rounded hips to her rear, and then press her against his penis, which he was trying desperately to keep from turning into a full-fledged hard-on. He wisely stayed with the knight routine and kept his hands at her waist. But then he couldn’t imagine a knight having room in his armor for the massive hard-on rising in his pants. If only she’d stay still.
Then he made the mistake of looking into those gorgeous eyes. Eyes resembling a deer caught in headlights—or maybe a woman fully aware of what she was lying against. He couldn’t suppress another groan.
He was in deep, deep shit. Why did Susie turn out to be Cassie Jordan, the woman who could very well be his suspect?
“Hogan?” Cassie whispered. “Are you sure you’re all right?” His hands twitched at her waist. She really should get off him, but it felt so good to be lying on a man again. It had been two years since her divorce and even longer since she’d had sex. Rubbing against Hogan’s body brought back long-denied feelings. Not that she was rubbing against him, simply trying to get up. Could she help it if, in the process, her breasts pressed a little harder against his chest or her stomach wiggled ever so slightly into his . . .
Oh man, he had a hard-on. A woman never forgets the feeling of a man’s rigid penis against her pelvis. She had to give him credit, he didn’t move a muscle.
Cassie moved to get up and rested the palms of her hands on either side of his shoulders. In the process, her bottom moved again. Oh yeah, he had a big one going.
Normally a reserved person when it came to sex and men, Cassie wasn’t sure where this vamp came from—and with a complete stranger, no less. But from the moment she’d opened the front door, her body had taken over her usually straight-laced mind.
“Umm . . .” Cassie’s heart slid to the pit of her stomach when he opened his eyes. Like Carroll’s Alice, she was tumbling down a long, dark tunnel, into an unknown but exciting adventure. The groan coming from those sensuous lips nearly undid her. It would be so simple to lean down and press her lips to his. As if reading her mind, Hogan ran his tongue over his bottom lip.
Cassie unconsciously copied him. Her arms lowered and she moved her face close enough to his to feel his warm breath across her mouth. Oh, lordy, she was going to kiss a complete stranger.
Hogan’s hands tightened on her waist, urging her closer. Who was teasing whom now? Closer, closer until her lips barely touched his. His tongue. . .
“Auntie Susie? Watcha doin’? Jazmine and I are hungry.”
Cassie snapped her head up, catching Hogan’s nose with her chin. She blinked several times trying to refocus her eyes. Auntie Susie? Who was she? The only Susie here was the wanton rubbing against the man on the floor. She shook her head and eased from Hogan.
The kids. How could she have forgotten the kids? She stood. Hogan rolled over, getting to his knees, in the process giving her a good view of his ass. Oh, yeah, that was how.
Cassie averted her gaze from Hogan’s backside and checked out her kitchen. Nothing had changed. The girls still colored. Billy chewed on the washcloth. Strained carrots were still smeared everywhere, and the clock continued ticking away the minutes of her dull life. Nope, nothing had changed—nothing except her. In just a few short minutes, she’d gone from a boring, sexually repressed techie, to wanting to jump the bones of a man she’d met only moments before.
The kids. She had to concentrate on her nieces and nephew. She turned her back to the hunk on the floor and went to Billy. This time the highchair tray came off in one try. She unbuckled the strap and picked him up. Cassie smiled when he snuffed his face against her neck. She held him against her like a shield and turned to Hogan.
His back was to her. He sighed and his broad shoulders rose and fell. Grabbing the back of his neck with one hand, he angled his head first one way then the other. Cassie’s hands itched to run over his back. She flexed her fingers to stop from kneading his neck. Instead she rubbed Billy’s much, much smaller back.
Hogan huffed a breath again and turned to her. Cassie kept her eyes above his waist instead of checking to see if his erection remained.
“Oh, my. Your clothes. They’re full of carrots.” She glanced down at her own messy duds. “You should probably get your shoes and leave. Rob left them in a bag by the front door.” She dropped onto a nearby chair and set Billy on her lap. “I’m a mess. You’re a mess. The kitchen’s a disaster. And I haven’t even fed the girls, yet. If you leave now, I can get to work.”
Emily went over to her aunt and put an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Auntie Cassie. I tried to give Billy some milk but he dumped it on his head.”
Cassie gave Emily a one-arm hug. “That’s okay, honey. It’s not your fault. As soon as I get everything cleaned up, I’ll make supper.”
Chapter 3
Now that he had his body under control, Hogan leaned against the counter and watched the woman who’d nearly turned him into raving sex maniac in an instant. One who, if he wasn’t careful, could ruin his case with the FBI.
This wasn’t exactly the way he would have planned to spend his Friday night, but it was certainly better than sitting in a sports bar watching some game, drinking beer, and chewing the fat about nothing with his buddies.
Not to mention, it was obvious the kids adored Cassie and she was good with them. But he felt somewhat responsible for what happened here. He wasn’t sure why, but he did. Before he could stop himself, the words “I’ll help” slipped from his mouth.
Wait a minute, Hogan. Where the hell did that come from?
Now that he’d located Cassie Jordan, he needed to get his head back in the game and figure out how he could turn this into an advantage. How come she was living here and not the house one of the other agents was watching? Was she so deep into the smuggling, she had them fooled into thinking she lived elsewhere?
Offering to help her was a better way to learn more about her. As a suspect, of course. Besides, it would be far more interesting than going to a stinky, loud bar or home to his cold, lonely, empty condo.
Cassie swung her head around. “You’ll what?”
“I said I’d help,” he repeated, pleased for coming up with this plan. The kids would be a great excuse to stick around and snoop. “I’ve taken care of plenty of kids. You give me that young fellow, and the girls can show me where to bathe him while you clean up the mess and fix them supper.”
He grinned at her wide eyes and open mouth as he peeled off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, took Billy, and followed the girls from the kitchen.
“Wait!”
Hogan stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know you. I can’t let you take the kids by yourself.”
Hogan could smack himself up the side of the head. Of course she shouldn’t trust him. “I just want to help. Besides, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve cleaned up this kid.” He jiggled Billy in his arms, making him giggle. “He’s rather a slob for a ten-month-old, wouldn’t you say?”
When Cassie stared, he added, “Obviously Bess and Rob know me since they told you I was coming over. I’ll leave my wallet on the table. I’m not about to abscond with three children without my license or money, am I?”
Cassie thought nobody in their right mind would do that even with a license and money. As he reached behind him and took his wallet from his pocket, his shirt stretched across his broad chest, reminding her of how he’d felt against her body. He flipped the wallet through the air, and Cassie caught it against her stained sweatshirt.
Something was up with this man. Billy’s arms were wrapped around Hogan’s neck, Emily was holding Hogan’s free hand, and Jazmine had wrapped
herself around one of his legs.
The scene was a little too cozy. “How long have you known the kids?”
“My whole entire life,” Emily piped up.
Hogan grinned, his dimples deepening. “That’s about it,” he agreed, absently rubbing the top of Emily’s head. “Is it okay if I take this squirt upstairs now?”
“Well, in that case, go for it. Emily can show you where the bathroom is.”
Hogan’s deep voice, mixed with the kids’ giggles, flowed down the stairs. Cassie grasped the wallet to her chest, sighed, then smiled to herself. She must be dreaming.
Thank goodness he wasn’t the man she’d conjured up to match those horrible shoes. Where had this man been hiding? He came to pick up his shoes, so why on Earth was he still here? Any single man she knew would have bolted the instant three kids came into the picture.
If he was a college friend of Rob’s, why hadn’t she ever met him before?
The temptation to search through his wallet overwhelmed her. Then she’d know more than what was in plain sight. Height: tall. Weight: perfect. Hair: finger-sinking thick. Eyes: a color you could lose your soul in. She also longed to know where he lived and worked, who his parents were, what he was like as a child, if he had any siblings, and if there were any pictures of girlfriends or a wife hidden within the folds.
A sudden thought came to her. Hadn’t she earlier thought that a man would have to drop literally at her feet? A shiver ran through her. This was too eerie.
While she wiped up the mess, Cassie listened to the laughter from upstairs. She closed her eyes and pretended they were hers. There would be a boy with dark, wavy hair and deep brown eyes. A little girl would adoringly follow her around the house, imitating everything she did. Of course the tiny charmer would absolutely, positively not have red hair. Maybe a cross between hers and Hogan’s? A deep auburn.