Page 22 of Craig

She lived on the bottom floor, with steps leading up to a tiny porch. Flowers were in pots and were blooming.

The scent of roses vied with daisies and daffodils. The sound of a baby crying competed with someone playing an accordion, badly.

Traffic whizzed by every few seconds.

He frowned at the flesh revealed by the plunging neckline of the rust-colored jacket. The skirt was long, a shimmery kind of green that swirled around her slender frame.

A trio of gold necklaces were at her throat, one dipping between her cleavage. Earrings sparkled at her lobes and her usual collection of bangles was on both wrists.

"Well?"

"You're not wearing a bra."

Her tapered brows lifted as she slung an oversized bag over her left shoulder and closed and locked the door behind her. He was determined not to feel resentful that she had not even invited him in.

Her perfume, something seductive and appealing, assailed his nostrils.

"There's no need for one." She glanced at him, her expression one of amusement.

"I'm sure your grandfather in his advanced age has seen more than his fair share of female skin." She bounded down the steps, leaving him to follow.

Lifting her hand, bangles jangling, she hailed a guy whizzing by on a motorcycle. When he stopped and came back, Craig set his teeth.

They were already running late.

"Hey, Gina!" Kicking the lever, the burly man hopped off the back and came towards her, his smile wide.

"Where're you going all dressed up?"

"On a date." She grinned as he wrapped her in his bulky arms.

"This is Craig. Craig, this is a very good friend of mine, Jerry Whittle. He lives up the street."

"Hey." Jerry flicked him a glance before turning back to Gina.

His anger spiked.

Setting his teeth, he unlocked the car and got in, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wheel as he waited.

He was about to hop back out and demand that she get in the vehicle when she opened the door.

"Sorry, Jerry is a talker. He wanted to tell me about his new bike."

"We're late." Gritting his teeth, he punched the start button and peeled away from the curb.

Turning sideways, Regina studied his set expression. "You're upset."

"What gave it away?" He merged into traffic and cursed himself for being a fool who was caught up in a situation that wasn't sitting well with him.

"I already apologized. Do you want a written note as well?"

He turned to cut her a glance, green eyes frosty.

"That would certainly be beneath you, wouldn't it? I had to sit in the car and wait for you to open the bloody door. Not only that, but you also never once invited me inside. I'm beginning to think that common courtesy is beyond you."

He pushed through traffic, his temper spiking. "And then you had that guy draped all over you and ignored me as if I was an inconvenience."

Her own temper surfaced.