by BJ Bentley
“Can I talk to you?” Heath asked me, ignoring his sister’s mumbling.
“Something you can’t say in front of me?” Poppy asked, hands on her hips in a stance every man recognized as one that screamed take cover, she’s gonna blow!
The elder Leighton sibling didn’t seem fazed. He tilted his chin, an indication for me to follow, as he turned and walked toward the front door. When we were both on the front porch, and sure that Poppy couldn’t hear, he spoke. “It’s not confirmed yet, but the make and model of the SUV, as well as the partial plate, seem to match that of one belonging to a Trent Stone. Sound familiar?”
“No.”
“Known associate of Clay Granger,” he supplied.
Well, fuck me sideways. “This wasn’t a random shooting.”
“Right. Look,” he paused, not liking what he was about to say but needing to say it, nonetheless. “She’s my baby sister. Whatever you two got going on, I don’t like it. But I know you’re a good cop, and I know what my dad meant to you, so I know you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
I clenched my teeth. “You don’t have to use my relationship with your father to manipulate me here.”
“I’m not. I’m just saying, I know you’ll do whatever it takes.”
I glared at my fellow detective, one I both respected and wanted to throat punch at the same time. “Whatever it takes,” I agreed. “Which means you need to call off the patrol.”
“The fuck I will.”
I shook my head. “It’s only going to piss her off, and you know it. Call it off.”
“When it comes to her safety, I could give two shits what pisses her off, so long as at the end of the day, she’s still whole.”
“You trust me to keep her safe?” I challenged. “Whatever it takes?”
Heath’s eyes surveyed the neighborhood while he struggled with his decision. “God damn it,” he finally said. “I’ll call the patrol off.”
“Good. Because I’m about to be all up in our girl’s business, and that’s going to piss her off enough as it is.”
Heath smirked. “You hurt her, she’ll shoot you herself.”
I met his smirk with a grin. “I love that about her.”
“You’re seriously fucked,” he muttered before granting me a low wave and bounding down the porch steps, climbing into his truck, and taking off.
Back in the kitchen, I found Poppy curled up in one of the kitchen chairs, knees to her chest and cell phone pressed to her ear. I ignored the stink eye she gave me and blatantly listened to the conversation she was having with one of her girls-- either Ashley or Maya based on the topic of conversation.
“No, I’m fine,” she insisted. “I was just calling to make sure that both of you were okay.”
I helped myself to my second cup of coffee, pulled out the only other chair at the table, and planted my ass in it. I listened to Poppy talk for a few more minutes before disconnecting and lying her phone face down on the table.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, which she still had pressed to her chest. “Did you and my brother have a nice conversation about me?”
“I know that pissed you off, rookie, but I’m gonna need you to get over it.”
She made a scoffing sound while she flipped me off.
Smiling at the juvenile gesture that seemed so out of character for her, I informed her of something that would make her happy and yet earn me her ire at the same time. “I convinced him to call off the patrol.”
She looked disbelieving. “You did?”
I nodded once. “I did.”
“How?” Her eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.
“Ah, well, I’ve been assigned as your new bodyguard.” Unofficially, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Excuse me?” She let go of her legs, dropping her feet to the floor, and leaned into the table.
I glanced around, noting that her gun was on the counter. Out of arm’s reach but not out of the question should she decide she really didn’t like what I had to say. “Hey, come on. It makes sense. As long as I’m your mentor, we’re together nearly every day anyway. And during the times when we’re off duty…well, I guess we’re going to be getting to know each other a whole lot better.”
“Except I don’t need a bodyguard because I’m not in any danger. Unless, of course, you and my brother know something that I don’t.” She quirked an eyebrow expectantly.
“The SUV from last night? It’s not confirmed yet, but the description and partial plate you got match a vehicle owned by Trent Stone.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“He’s apparently got ties to Granger.”
Poppy sat back in her chair, blowing out a gust of air. “And what are the chances of a man connected to the subject of one of our biggest investigations just happening to corner me on a deserted road and shooting at me?” she muttered.
She got it. Poppy wasn’t dumb.
“It wasn’t random. You were the target.”
But don’t worry, rookie, I’ll keep you safe.
Whatever it takes.
10
Poppy
I was the target.
Someone shot at me. At a cop. On purpose.
Worse, someone had put my friends, innocents, in harm’s way because of me, of who I was.
Motherfuckers! I cringed imaging the chastising look Mom would have given me, even if I hadn’t said the word out loud. Years of conditioning was hard to break.
“How do you think Granger found out about me?” I asked Vance, who looked far too comfortable lounging at my kitchen table and drinking copious amounts of my freshly ground coffee.
His broad shoulders lifted almost imperceptibly. “The organization he works for is vast. Who knows how far the tentacles of that network extend? I hate to say it, but where there’s money, there’s corruption. I’m not saying it’s anyone in our department, but there are certainly individuals of questionable morals within the ranks of our local government.”
What little coffee I’d had started to churn in my stomach.
“You’re a rookie. And not just new to the force but new to the profession. Makes sense that they’d peg you as an easy target.” He seemed to be spitballing out loud rather than actually explaining his thought process to me. His eyes were fixated on the clock that hung over the back door. “We already know he has at least one woman he’s fond of. Maybe she’s just as fond of him. Or maybe it’s just the things he can buy her. Either way, it’s not far outside the realm of possibility that she spoke to him about the ‘nice couple’ she met on her way home from his place the other morning. Granger strikes me as the paranoid type. He may have even seen us talking to her himself.” Vance stopped speaking and shook off his thoughts. “However it happened, it’s done. So, now we figure out our next move. Together.”
“Together? As in, twenty-four seven?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ and grinning. “I’m on you like glue, baby.”
“I want to shoot you already.”
The handsome weasel’s smile widened. “But that would be against policies and procedures.”
“I’m starting to think that some rules were made to be broken,” I muttered.
Vance chuckled. “So, what’s on our agenda for today?”
I transfered my glare of his face to the clock and sighed. “First, a run.”
“I hope you mean on a treadmill.”
I frowned. “No. I mean around the neighborhood.” I didn’t even own a treadmill, nor did I belong to a gym that owned a treadmill. Linc would laugh in the face of anyone who even suggested it.
“Negative.” Vance shook his head once.
“Huh?”
“Negative. No way. Not happening.”
I opened my mouth, ready to blast him, but he kept talking.
“You were shot at last night! Hello? You’re not going out and running around the neighborhood where you’re exposed. Jesus, rookie,” he muttered, his blatant ex
asperation tightening the skin around his eyes.
Unfortunately for him, my annoyance grew in direct proportion to his. “Don’t boss me. And don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” It was my turn to shut him down when he opened his mouth to object. “No! Don’t forget that I’m my father’s daughter.”
“Meaning?”
I rolled my eyes. “Meaning, I don’t run on the same days every week, or even at the same times, and I always run a different route. I might be a target out there, but at least I’m an unpredictable one.”
“But still a target.”
I stood, slapping my palms flat on the table. “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got myself a new bodyguard,” I sniped before flouncing off toward the stairs. Yes, I flounced. It was not my proudest moment, but it was early, I was slightly dehydrated, and the criminally sexy man sitting at my kitchen table as comfortable as could be was really getting on my nerves.
And I wasn’t even going to think about what had been about to happen before my brother had interrupted us.
I was such a liar.
A dirty, dirty liar.
As I yanked off my sleepwear and pulled on a pair of joggers, a sports bra, and a faded, well-worn police academy t-shirt, the feel of Vance’s fingers on my skin was all I could think about. And the more I thought about it, the more agitated I became. I furiously brushed my teeth and hair, throwing the latter into a high ponytail, and stomped down the stairs. Still in my snit, I grew even more annoyed seeing Vance standing at the front door dressed in sweats, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I’d been gleefully imagining him running behind me in his jeans and boots and the chafing and blisters he’d be suffering as a result.
“Where did you get those clothes?” I asked, irked that my dream of vengeance had been dashed.
“I keep a duffel in my car. I do work out, you know.”
It took Herculean effort not to admire the biceps that were undoubtedly the byproduct of said workouts.
One of those biceps flexed, and the smirk on Vance’s face was a clue that I’d failed. Damn it!
“Shut up,” I snapped, reaching for the door, ready to throw it open and hope that it smacked him in the face.
I failed at that too, when Vance’s large hand slapped against the wood. “Stop,” he clipped, nudging me out of the way, so he could first peek through the peephole before cracking the door wide enough to stick his head out and scan the street. Seemingly satisfied, he opened the door wider, stepping out onto the front porch and beckoning me to follow.
I rolled my eyes at his behavior. I was doing that a lot lately, and I wasn’t particularly pleased with myself. It wasn’t like me to be petty or childish, and I felt a bit of shame clawing at my gut. I pushed it away. I was a grown woman. Capable. A cop, for Christ’s sake, and I could take care of myself. I scanned the street twice while I stretched before bolting around Vance and down the steps. I took off at an easy pace, smiling to myself at the clipped curse from Vance’s lips. After that, I tried to ignore him dogging my heels as we made our way around the block, following a route that I made up as I went along. I briefly lamented not grabbing my phone in my haste to get away from Vance, since I never ran without music in my ears, but, and I’d never admit this out loud, the steady rhythm of Vance’s feet hitting the pavement behind me was a comforting sound.
When the fitness tracker on my wrist flashed at the five mile mark, I decided we’d had enough. I turned the corner, heading for home, when Vance said the first word he’d uttered since our run began. I looked over my shoulder without breaking my stride to see that Vance had stopped to tie his shoe. Instead of holding up like he’d asked, I chuckled, breaking into a sprint and pushing my body into a punishing pace, one I hadn’t even attempted since I’d graduated from the academy. My muscles ached with a painful pleasure. Between that and the wind in my face, I was able to ignore Vance’s calls as I soared the rest of the way home on my runner’s high.
That was, until I reached my front door.
Vance’s body plastered itself to mine, slamming me up against the door. “Unlock it,” he growled.
I fumbled for the key in my sports bra, barely unsheathing it before Vance snatched it away. Unlocking the door himself, he shoved us both inside, throwing the door and the deadbolt with an ease and efficiency that left me a little unnerved.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he hissed.
I would have reared my head back had it not already been flush with the door. Instead, my chin jerked back far enough that it became one with my neck. “Excuse me?”
“Do you think this is a joke?”
“What?” His anger fed my own, obliterating my confusion but doing nothing to abate the heat that flared at his proximity. Which, of course, just ticked me off even more.
“You can’t be this stupid.”
“Excuse me?” I repeated, this time with a heck of a lot more offense.
He kept going. “Top of your class in college and at the academy. You’re your father’s daughter and your brother’s sister, and neither of those men are stupid. So, tell me, Poppy, why, when your life is under threat, would you intentionally try to shake the one person dedicated to keeping that perfectly sculpted ass in one piece?”
“Excuse me?” I said for the third time. Apparently, it was the only thing I could say, this time breathlessly. With Vance’s body pressed into mine, I could feel every carved muscle, every heave of his chest as he struggled to get his breathing under control. And I could most definitely feel the rather large evidence of the effect I had on him making itself known where it was trapped against my belly. I ignored the affront to my intelligence and focused on the desire pooling between my legs.
I blinked as his scowl morphed into something else. Something just as dark but much more dangerous. My hands inexplicably found themselves on his hard chest, his heart pounding under my palms. His hands spanned my waist, squeezing slightly, as if he was ensuring he had my attention, even though there was no way it could be anywhere else. His blue eyes sparkled with electricity, the same energy I felt coursing through me. The same energy I’d felt that morning in my kitchen.
We stared at each other for a few thundering heartbeats while all semblance of resistance bled out. Our mouths came together in a mad rush. Hands groped, tongues stroked, teeth nipped. I could smell his salty skin, damp with his sweat, and was surprised at how much that scent could turn me on. His hot mouth tasted like coffee and a hint of mint, quickly becoming my favorite taste in the world.
My arms wrapped around his neck, forcing his head down farther. I was desperate for more.
More of his scent.
More of his taste.
Just more of him.
His hands slid down to cup my butt, and he jerked me forward with a groan. His erection pressed more firmly into my belly, his hips rocking, seeking friction. I was a nanosecond away from jumping into his arms and throwing my legs around his waist when we were interrupted for the second time that morning.
A knock sounded at the door before Maxie called, “Poppy? Are you home?”
I froze.
Vance did not. “Tell her to go away,” he murmured in my ear, his breath tickling the little hairs at my neck.
I shivered. “I can’t.”
His teeth nipped my ear. “Yes, you can.” He grabbed one leg behind the knee, lifting it and wrapping it around his waist while he pressed forward, rubbing his erection, which I swore was growing bigger and harder by the second, against me.
I rolled my lips and bit back the moan that threatened to erupt. “Vance,” I breathed. “We have to stop.”
“Poppy?” Maxie called again. “Are you okay? I thought I heard something.”
Vance’s attention to my earlobe became more dedicated. I’d never realized that erogenous zone existed. I closed my eyes, ready to give in when I heard Maxie’s voice again.
“I’m calling Heath!”
And that was the bucket of ice water needed to bring this hormonal
grope fest to a screeching halt. I planted my hands on Vance’s shoulders and gave him a firm shove.
He didn’t move.
“Vance!” I hissed, pulling my leg out of his grip and slamming it down on the floor. Only I missed the floor and nailed his toes. He reared back with a litany of curses streaming from his lips. “Sorry,” I muttered, only slightly apologetic. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but it got the job done.
I straightened my clothes when I lost Vance’s grip and hurried to the door to avert another kind of disaster. I threw the bolt back and swung the door wide. “Maxie! Hi!”
My neighbor stopped scrolling through her contacts the second the door opened, jumped at my enthusiastic greeting, and stared slack-jawed at what I was sure was a devastatingly handsome sight behind me.
I tried to ignore that last one.
“Hey, Pop,” she muttered, not looking at me.
“Maxie.”
“Hmm?”
“Max,” I snapped.
Her eyes flicked back to me. “What?”
“You’re staring,” I whispered.
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry,” she whispered back, her gaze suddenly fixated on her shoes. “I just, uh, thought I heard something. A noise. Wanted to make sure you were okay,” she blathered.
“I’m fine,” I assured her, bristling at the fact that Vance was standing directly behind me instead of making himself scarce which would have been better for me.
“I can see that.” Maxie nodded. “Um. I texted you the details of my showing. You’re still coming right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Max.”
“Right. Of course. Okay, well this is awkward, and you’ve obviously got company, so--”
“Hi. I’m Vance, by the way. Nice to meet you…Maxie, is it?”
“Mhmm,” Maxie mumbled, looking everywhere but at Vance.
I rolled my eyes heavenward, seeking but not finding patience.
“Well, Maxie, it was great of you to check on Poppy. You’re obviously a great neighbor…and friend… but Poppy and I were right in the middle of—”
“No, we weren’t!” I blurted. “In fact, we’re done now. Maxie, do you want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
