15 Channing PalmerChanning leaned back.
She studied the woman who’d materialized in her office doorway. Nine-thirty on Monday morning and Nora had made it into work.
Her best friend’s parka was open to reveal her favorite long-sleeved shirt with the pearl snaps, tucked into faded, skin-tight Wranglers that ended in well-polished cowgirl boots.
Nora’s “happy outfit”.
The apparel plus the wicked grin advertised that a hot s****l encounter was the reason for the late arrival. Only one man had been edging close enough to be a candidate.
Pursing her lips, Channing said, “You promised me you wouldn’t hook up with that bad-boy cop.”
“Turns out he’s not all that bad.”
Nora snickered. She pranced into the room and peeled off her parka.
“Not bad at all.”
Channing extended both index fingers
