“Maybe so, but I think I’ll play it safe.” He snatched the broom from my hand and tossed it on the floor. “That’s better.” Then his hand tangled in my hair and pulled my mouth to his, his other hand sliding up my back.

I lost myself in him, my heart bursting with happiness.

“I don’t like fighting with you,” he mumbled against my lips.

“I don’t like fighting with you either.”

His kiss softened as his hand cupped my cheek. “God, I’ve missed you. Three days is too long.” He crushed my chest to his, and his tongue explored my mouth, leaving me breathless.

“Ewww!” a small voice squealed.

I leaned back to see Andy Jr. standing outside the open door with Muffy at his side. “Did you take good care of Muffy?” I asked in a stern voice.

Joe squinted at me in surprise.

“Yes ma’am.” Andy Jr. looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

“Well, thanks for entertainin’ Muffy for me. Maybe you could watch her again sometime.”

He grinned. “That would be awesome! Thanks!” Andy Jr. took off running to the backyard.

Joe tilted his head to the side. “Do I want to know what just happened there?”

“No.” I pulled out of his embrace. “And I’m still mad at you.”

With a grin, he rubbed my forehead with his finger. “It’s hard to take that scowl seriously when you have blue paint smeared across your forehead.”

I reached up to swipe it off but the paint had dried. “You’ve been lookin’ at me all this time with paint on my face?”

“It makes you look adorable and it’s only on your forehead. What are you painting? I didn’t know you’d planned on painting anything.”

I hesitated. “Well…neither did I …until this afternoon.”

His face froze as his eyes narrowed slightly. I recognized it for what it was—the Joe Simmons Arkansas State Police face.

Time to change the subject. “I’m hungry and you’re gonna take me out to dinner to make it up to me. After I take a shower.” I turned to walk down the hall to the bathroom.

Joe grabbed my wrist and tugging me back into his arms. “Who said I was done making up?” He slowly covered my lips with his, his tongue continuing its sweet torture.

I knew what he was doing. He’d used these questionable interrogation attempts over a month ago when he thought I was involved with Daniel Crocker. He hoped to distract me with his mouth and make me give up my secrets. “I’m taking a shower.”

A slow sexy grin spread across Joe’s face as his held my hips to his. “Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

I swatted his arm and stepped backward, breaking his hold. “Alone. I’m showering alone. That’s your punishment.”

“You’re a cruel woman, Rose Gardner. Gettin’ a guy’s hopes up like that.”

“You and Muffy can watch TV while you’re figuring out where to take me.”

“Well, hurry up,” he growled, but his eyes twinkled. “I’m hungry.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s why I told you to figure out where to go.”

“That’s not what I’m hungry for.”

A blush crept up to my face. I still wasn’t used to that kind of attention.

Fifteen minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom showered and in fresh clothes. Joe stood in the doorway of Momma’s bedroom and turned to look at me.

“I put the paint tray and roller in a bag so they don’t dry out. I like the color.”

“Thanks.”

“If you’d have waited until the weekend, I would’ve helped you.”

“I know, but we got out of jury duty early today and I couldn’t face an afternoon of nothing.”

“You could have spent the day with Violet.”

I pinched my lips. “We’re not exactly speakin’ right now.”

His eyes widened in surprised as he led me down the hall to the kitchen. “Let’s go and you can tell me on the way. The sooner we eat dinner the sooner I can have dessert.”

“You’re awfully confident for a man who’s in trouble.”

Joe leaned down and kissed my neck. “Good thing I know your weak spots.”

Dear Lord, wasn’t that the truth?

We went to Little Italy, one of only two nice places to eat in Henryetta. The other was Jaspers, and I refused to go back there after the disastrous first date that Violet had arranged for me a month ago. Between getting left at the restaurant by the Pillsbury Doughboy, running into Daniel Crocker and feeling guilty about Sloan, the nice bartender who’d helped me and gotten murdered, I had no desire to ever walk through those doors again.

After we ordered, Joe reached across the table and took my hand. “Why are you and Violet fighting?”

I had to admit it was hard to stay mad at him. He was a charming man and the dark atmosphere and candlelight in the restaurant dampened my irritation. We needed to talk about what happened the night before, but it wasn’t like we could discuss Bruce’s situation in public. That discussion needed to happen at home. Talking about Violet wasn’t going to solve our disagreement, and I worried it would be throwing another log onto the fire. Maybe going out to eat wasn’t such a good idea after all. “I don’t think you want to know why we’re fightin’.”