Two for the Dough (Stephanie Plum, #2)

by Janet Evanovich

Last time I worked with Morelli I’d gotten shot in the ass.

“No wonder you have no sex life. It’d take a lot out of a man to wake up to hair like that.”

His hand slid to the back of my head, he pulled me to him, and kissed me on the forehead. He gave me a hug, and then he was suddenly gone, striding across the lot, disappearing into the shadows.

When Morelli had charmed the pants off me fourteen years ago, he hadn’t been abusive, but he hadn’t been kind, either.

I revved the engine and took off, leaving him standing in the middle of the street in his shirt and socks, with his woody hanging half-mast.