A Good Day for Chardonnay (Sunshine Vicram #2) by Darynda Jones

“There are only two things that will keep their attention focused on us while your team overtakes them. Either we fight or fuck.”

She swallowed hard. “You’re assuming they don’t have a sniper rifle pointed at our heads as we speak.”

“They clearly want the kid. Why would they blow their lead?”

“Fine. We fight.”

His gaze traveled over her face. “Chickenshit.”

She thought about arguing with him, but he did have a point. Desire glistened in his eyes as he looked down at her. He was either an incredible actor, or he was not wasting the opportunity, either.

“We should start fighting now,” she said, her voice breathier than she’d planned.

“I’ll follow your lead.”

After another moment of considering his alternate plan, imagining her lips brushing across his, she stood to face him instead and railed, “What do you mean my hair has never been my strong suit? What’s wrong with my hair?” She made a point to throw in some angry movements without exaggerating them too much. She had to sell it, not turn it into vaudeville.

He eased back. Took her in. Then did indeed follow her lead. Yet, unlike her, he stayed true to his character by offering no reaction whatsoever other than the barest hint of a smirk. He gestured toward the subject of their argument, a.k.a. the weakest point of her entire being apparently, and said, “It’s just so blond.”

She gaped at him. “It’s too blond?”

“And nondescript.”

“Excuse me?”

“And anemic.”

He’d really thought about this. “Can hair even be anemic?”

“Apparently.”

The humorous slant to his lips caused a momentary glitch in Sun’s synaptic firings. She mentally rebooted, and asked, “Just what do you suggest I do about it?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. You never wear it down so it’s hard to say.”

She executed her best soap-opera spin and whirled away from him. It was a wonder Hollywood hadn’t come knocking. “For your information, I’m a law enforcement officer. French braids are generally safer than ponytails or even buns, so I braid it.” She spun back to him. “And you’re one to talk. What exactly do you call that disaster?” She gestured toward his head of thick, dark auburn hair, the same hair she’d give her left kidney just to run her fingers through, and guessed, “The sasquatch?”

“Are you saying I need a trim?”

She stopped short in front of him and leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. “I’m saying you need a trim.”

This was the most ridiculous argument she’d ever had. She should’ve come up with something better to argue about than hair, but a part of her did wonder if he really felt that way. Clearly, she needed to deep condition more often. Maybe give it a light tease.

He set the bottle aside and pinned her with a knowing look. “No,” he said, his voice as deep and smooth as ever. “I do not really feel that way about your hair.”

Holy crap. He could read her mind.

“Also no,” he said.

She straightened. “No what?”

He stood to tower over her. “I cannot read your mind.” He really could. When he lifted her chin and bent closer, their mouths almost touching, Sun was ninety-percent certain she ovulated. “Though I’d give anything for that ability.”

A breathy laugh escaped her. “You’d rue the day. Trust me.”

“Not likely.” His gaze dropped to her mouth just as Quincy came over the radio.

“You two done?”

Sun pivoted away from Levi like she’d been caught in the act itself.

“Because we secured the men following you like five minutes ago.”

She cleared her throat and pressed the talk button on her mic. “How many?”

“Two,” Rojas said. “They supposedly don’t know where the other guy is.”

Quincy came back on, “We called in the staties to check out their hotel in case he stayed behind. They’re coming out here, too. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Not sure what we can hold any of them on, but it’s worth a shot to try to find out their end game. Did Zee have to shoot anyone?”

“Not today, boss,” she said almost sadly. It was a joke. Sun saw firsthand what it did to her the last time she had to take down a perpetrator.

“You guys okay to get them back to the trailhead?”

“Ten-four on that,” Quincy said.

“They’re hog-tied, boss,” Zee said. “I can stay on you. Watch your six, just in case.”

Levi grabbed the backpack and Sun ripped it out of his hands. “Nah, stay on them, then hustle up with the ATVs when the state police get here.”

“Ten-four.”

With the stalkers out of the way, they could continue their journey to the boys and, hopefully, get some answers.

“I want a do-over,” Levi said. After stuffing their water bottles into the backpack, he stole it once more and secured it on his shoulders. “I felt my performance lacked authenticity.”

Unfortunately, Sun responded before giving it much thought. “I doubt your performances are ever found lacking, Mr. Ravinder.” When her words sank in, she froze for a solid minute, then started forward, suddenly eager to be on her way.