Gift Wrapped by Karla Doyle

was kind of, um…dirty. To me, anyway. But my mind always tends to head for the gutter.” Not a bad thing from where he stood. A lifetime of keeping his feelings in check had given him a killer poker face, which he put to use now. “What did I say that sounded dirty?” “Come on, Davis.” One eyebrow rose at him. “Think about it.” Oh, he was thinking about it all right. Hard not to think about rear entries with the memory of Brinn’s upturned ass in that tight little skirt imprinted on his brain. “You’re thinking about it.” Shit, those eyes, taunting him to say something there’d be no mistaking the meaning of, no taking back. “Possibly.” “I knew it.” It was too soon to kiss her. A nice guy would let her get more than six feet inside the door before backing her up against a wall and stuffing his tongue in her mouth. Maybe find out her last name or offer her a drink. He could do those things—if she stopped looking at him like she wanted to be backed up against the wall, swallowing his tongue. He stepped away and folded her coat over the back of the couch. Caught her hand and made her tag along to the kitchen before they visited the wall. “Wait,” she said, throwing on the brakes. “Is that why you went out last minute to buy a present for Alicia? Because her house was robbed too?” “Yeah.” Thinking about the girl’s tears streaming down her cheeks as she and her mother stood in their looted house had his blood boiling again. “No kid deserves to have their Christmas ruined.” Brinn squeezed