Leo strode in, dropping my black duffel bag on the chair. I took a step forward, but he held up a hand.
“Not so fast, Ms. Angel,” he said. “I have some questions.” He flipped open his black notebook, posing his pen.
He looked all cop mode and hot. My synapses fried and my mouth watered at the sight of him. His jeans were just the right fit, encasing his firm thighs. His badge was displayed on his belt, right next to his gun. His white T-shirt hinted at the muscular angles underneath, though his black leather jacket cut a biker image too. He seriously needed to consider posing for one of those calendars with men in uniform. He hit all the right sexy points.
“Were you aware that firing a weapon and injuring someone via a gunshot, without reporting it, is a felony offense in Livingston? Punishable by up to a year in jail.”
I frowned. Was he kidding me? “What?”
“Yes. I happen to know that you fired your gun at Hernandez—”
“That little pipsqueak ratted me out?” My attitude shifted from mad to indignant in a heartbeat. “Wait until I get my hands on him!”
“Is that a threat too?” Leo shook his head, tsking under his breath and jotting down some notes. “Bad move, if you ask me, threatening someone in the presence of a police officer. I’m prepared to take you into custody.” He looked up with a smirk riding his lips. “Do you know how harsh cops have it in lock up? I hear it’s torture, and the food tastes like shit.”
“Leo!” God, this could not be happening. “It was an accident. I’m sure Hernandez explained.” Or I hoped he had, and if not, he had the IQ of peanut because giving him credit for the intelligence of a rock would be too generous. “Just give me my clothes, and I’ll—”
Leo pocketed his black notebook and pen, grabbed my duffel, and offered it to me with something close to a Cheshire grin. I knew that look. He was up to something. Leo had a way of looking at me through his lashes and smiling right before he executed a plan. A devious plan. Something I was not necessarily going to enjoy. I just had to figure out what he wanted without giving away my interest.
My eyes narrowed. Yeah, I’d show him.
Crossing my arms, I made no move to grab my duffel, although the chill of the tile floor seeped through my bare feet and up my calves. I was slowly freezing with only a wisp of a gown covering my nakedness. I could envision what it was like to be a stripper right before they ripped off their tear-away clothes, but there was no sexy music and no way would I shake my tush on the hospital bed for a few bucks. Even I had to draw the line somewhere.