Miss you already.
She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. He missed her. Already. She did, too.
Ditto.
She was never going to last two weeks without him.
Two weeks later, Enzo sat in a conference room in New York, surrounded by stacks and stacks of papers and boxes. He’d been working nonstop since he landed at JFK. He’d read through most of the files and taken so many notes, he swore he had carpal tunnel now.
It was probably a good thing Jessi hadn’t come to New York. She would’ve been bored out of her mind. He hadn’t actually seen his temporary apartment for forty-eight hours. He missed sleeping in a bed. The couch on the other side of the conference room was nice looking, but lumpy as hell.
If he had dragged Jessi here, he never would have been able to get through as much of the documentation as he had. He was making progress. He wasn’t any good to anyone besides work right now.
“Do you have the witness statements from yesterday?” The lead attorney, Meredith Wiles sifted through one of the stacks.
“They’re in the stacks in the right-hand corner.”
They’d been attached at the hip. Which wasn’t bad. She was his boss. Nice enough. Long blond hair, professional suits. She smelled nice—which normally wouldn’t have registered when talking about a coworker, but they’d spent so much time locked into this little room, it was hard not to notice.
“When is your flight?” Meredith pulled out a folder and flipped it open.
“I fly out tomorrow.” He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Given how tired he was, he was surprised his lips had the energy to turn upward.
Meredith seemed to notice his change in mood. “You’re excited to see her.”
“It’s been a long two weeks.”
“After all the work you did to help us with this case, you might not be here for too much longer.” She nodded at the door. “It would be great to have you on that case down in DC. I could put in a good word for you, if you want.”
The DC case was another huge career-maker. It would do great things for him. But it would also mean at least half a year in Washington. “Thank you. That’s a great opportunity, but I’m heading back to Chicago when this is done.”
“I understand.” Meredith smiled without looking up from the folder. “I hope Jessi knows what a great catch you are, despite your weird obsession with music.”
“It’s not an obsession. And not weird.” He laughed. “We’ll see how much my one-of-a-kind signed bass from Nikki Sixx goes up in value. You’ll be eating your words.”
His phone dinged. Ru packed?
Enzo didn’t know who was looking forward to this weekend more—him or Jessi.
If not skip the clothes
Him. Definitely him. He couldn’t wait to get to Chicago.
Just get your ass here
He might actually head to the airport after work today, just to make sure he didn’t miss his flight.
Epilogue
Jessi lay in bed, Enzo’s sheets wrapped around her body, watching while Enzo fold his clothes into a ball and shove them in his suitcase.
She stretched a little. Everything ached, in the good way. They’d spent the entire weekend together. Going out to dinner. Watching Netflix. And there was a lot of chilling. The Netflix was fun, but nothing beat the chill. Even if all that chilling led to the ache between her thighs.
She slid flat. “I hate that you have to leave,” she muttered. Monday had come way too quick—and it was barely even Monday.
“I’m looking at a couple more weeks and then I’ll be back.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “That’s the one good thing about you being here and me being there. I have had only one goal—getting back.”
“I like that goal.” She slid off the bed, keeping the sheet over her very happy, very naked body.
Enzo set the suitcase on the floor. “Stay in bed. It’s early.”
The sun was still sleeping, which it tended to do at four thirty in the morning. He was taking the first plane out, which meant the car would be here in ten minutes. His hand went to her side, his thumbs sliding along her stomach. “How’s your stomach feeling?”
“Okay.” She’d caved and ordered the gnocchi with truffles last night. Totally worth any bad effects she might suffer today. “So far, so good.”
“Good.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Go back to bed.”
“I want to at least walk you out.”
“It’s cold out there. Get some sleep. You have to be to work in a few hours.”
“Yep. But I only get to be with you for the next few minutes.” She pulled his lips to hers. So soft. They’d started out with want and desire, and sometime over the weekend it had turned to need. And she needed him now.
Her lips parted, his tongue slowly dragging against her bottom lip. “I’m going to miss this.” Her voice came out raspy and breathless. She pressed closer to him, letting go of the sheet covering her body.
She was so torn right now. They were obviously too close together, the sheet couldn’t fall to the ground, which meant she couldn’t get closer. And she wanted closer. But to get rid of the sheet she had to pull away. So torn.
She couldn’t get her body to move. No matter how much she wanted the sheet gone.
Screw it.
She drew one leg higher, up to his hip, ignoring the annoying drag of fabric. Her body pulsed. Her heart echoed the beat in her ears. His hand slid along her leg, pulling her in tight. His other hand slid down her arm, finding the bare skin of her back before going lower and lower. Warmth and tingles flooded her, lips to toes.
And then he was gone. Gone.
The sheet fell away and left nothing but cold. Bumps crawled along her arm and everywhere else his hand had touched. Goosebumps popped up in places that shouldn’t have bumps.
“I have to go.” Enzo’s eyes swept up and down her body. His words said one thing, but his feet said another. He wasn’t leaving.
Maybe she could use that to her advantage. She arched her chest out and ran a fingertip along the side of his neck.
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and dragged her hand to his lips, depositing a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I really have to go and you are making it really hard.”
“That’s the plan—to make it hard.” Her free hand roamed down his body, till she wrapped her fingers around his…
“No. No. No.” He grabbed at her wandering hand and stepped backward just as the doorbell rang.
Blocked by the bell.
He took both her hands into one of his. “I’m going to miss you.” Leaning in, Enzo kissed her lips before letting go.
“Me too.” Jessi gathered the sheet around her and followed as he left the bedroom.
Enzo opened the front door and handed the suitcase to the driver. “Hi. I only have this one bag. I’ll be right out.” He shut the door before any of the cold air got to her.
Her arms wrapped around her waist, wrapping the sheet tighter. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. She didn’t cry. Ever. But she really hated these good-byes.
“I have an idea.” Enzo slid a finger under her chin, lifting until her eyes met his. “Two weeks. Whether I’m done with this project or not, why don’t you come to New York for the weekend? We’ll sightsee, and I can show you the place where I’ve been staying.”
A trip to New York. The Big Apple. “I’ve never been to New York,” she said slowly.
A lopsided smile curved his mouth. “Then this is the perfect chance for you to go.”
“Okay.” Like she really had to think about it. Like she really needed to answer. Of course she’d go. New York with Enzo was a no-brainer. Anywhere with Enzo was a no-brainer.
“We’ll figure out the logistics next week.” He rested his lips on hers. Soft and gentle. He took a step back and smiled. “I’ll text you when I land.”
“I’ll be here.”
“Me too.” She did like being here in his house. She’d rather have him, but staying here felt like she had a piece of him with her. So corny.
His lips parted, almost like he was going to say something, but all he did was kiss her forehead and leave her standing there watching the closed front door for a stupidly long time.
Her phone dinged from the other room, and she realized how cold her feet were. She dropped the sheet and ran into the bedroom, jumping on the unmade bed.
I loved this weekend and I love you.
Her heart about exploded in her chest. He loved her? Was that what he wanted to say before he left, but couldn’t?
Did she love him? She’d never really been in love before so she didn’t have anything to compare it to. But she’d never felt like this about anyone else. So, yeah. It had only been a little over a month, but yeah. She did. But could she say it? Should she say it?
I love you too.
She hit send, dropped the phone and screamed into Enzo’s pillow. She’d done it. She couldn’t believe she’d texted those words to him. She told him she loved him. What if it was a typo? Her phone sat next to her, silent, not so much as a buzz.
She screamed again into the pillow—this time not in the excited, happy way. This was a what-have-I-done sort of way.
When she inhaled, the pillow smelled like him. It took her mind off the non-chiming phone and made her regret those four words just a little less. He smelled so darn good.
Her phone rang.
Thank goodness.
She snatched the phone up and accepted the call. He must have been overwhelmed by their exchange, too. Maybe overwhelmed wasn’t the word. Excited. That was a good word for it.
“Hey, Jessi. You live right down the block with your mom, right? Can you come in early today?” When you expected a hot Italian on the other end of the line, hearing your boss instead counted as a major disappointment. Jessi must have made a sound, because Maggie kept talking. “There’s a courier coming somewhere between five and ten this morning. Can you get there in a half hour?”
If she was living at home—yes. Since she was clear across town at Enzo’s—no. “Um. I spent the night at a friend’s house, so I’m not close.” That sounded plausible and believable. And hopefully not exciting enough to ask any questions.
“Shit. I’m stuck sitting on this house and won’t get there in time. Can you get there as soon as you can?”
Could she? Yes. Did she want to? No. “Sure.”
“You’re a life saver. Hopefully the courier won’t get there before you. See you at the office?”
“Bye.” Jessi lay flat on the bed and stared at her phone. She should probably tell her boss that she was in a relationship. Heck, she was staying in the guy’s house, making future plans and saying I love you. It was about time to share.
But she just couldn’t. What she had with Enzo was so perfect, she didn’t want to ruin it with gossip and questions. Besides, Maggie knew Enzo. There would be questions. Jessi wanted to enjoy this. Enjoy him. Right now it was only theirs—hers and his. Once she let everyone know, she’d have to share it.
She didn’t want to share.
Not that she had time to think about any of this. She had to take a shower and get ready for work and some courier. She popped off the bed and the room swam.
Sideways. Tilty. Her knees wobbled and she sat back down on the bed. Hard. Her stomach roiled, and something burned the inside of her throat.
What—? The truffles.
She knew she shouldn’t have eaten the damn stuff, but it was so good going down. She had a feeling it would not be as good coming up.
She made it to the bathroom just in time to relieve herself of fifty dollars’ worth of white truffle infused gnocchi. Why did she keep doing this to herself? Totally not worth it.
As she stood over the sink cleaning herself up, her phone dinged. Walking back to the bed, Jessi swallowed down another surge of nausea. That was the last time she’d order fungus anything.
She picked up her phone. I love you stood out on the screen like a sore thumb. But that wasn’t what caught her eye.
2 weeks & I’m going to show you just how much.
She couldn’t wait.
Extras
If you enjoyed reading this installment of the Busted series, check out the other books in this series.
Busted Series (in order)
Busting In
Busting Out
Busting Through (coming soon)
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Turn the page for a sneak peek into the second book in the Busted Series…
Busting Out.
Sharing has never been so hard…
Four years ago, Maggie Lane lost her job with the Chicago PD, her boyfriend, and her sanity. Never one to accept defeat, she opened the Busted Detective Agency with her two best friends. Now Maggie is a success, doing a job she’s great at. So what if her love life is drier than a tumbleweed, and her sanity is still MIA? She doesn’t need a man—or her sanity. They’re both completely overrated.
Chase Montgomery is a cop on his way up, with nothing standing between him and everything he wants. But when he—literally—runs into Maggie in an alley while chasing a perp, one look is all it takes to remind him exactly what he lost when he let her go. Unfortunately, she still hasn’t forgiven him for ruining her career and obliterating her heart.
When Chase’s failed drug bust and Maggie’s investigation of a cheating girlfriend turn out to be related, Maggie and Chase don’t have much choice but to combine forces. If they can control the urge to kill each other long enough, they might just figure out how to make this thing between them work.
Unless, of course, the drug dealer Maggie double-crossed gets a hold of them first.
Busting Out
Chapter One
“West on Fullerton at Austin.” The instructions crackled over the police radio as Chase Montgomery ran around the corner onto Fullerton. Between the restaurants and the lavanderia, civilians lined the noontime sidewalk, creating an impenetrable wall.
“There they are,” his partner Perry Flores huffed beside him.
Two teens crossed the road. Why? To get on Chase’s bad side. City buses with advertising for everything from Weight Watchers to Oreos squeaked and sputtered as cars whooshed by.
Chase and Perry followed the teens through an extreme version of Frogger. Horns honked, tires screeched, and a car swerved—thankfully dodging right before Chase became a Chevy’s hood ornament. More tires screeched. But somehow, they made it across.
Chase craned his neck to get a better look. The drug-dealing little shits were getting away with, if his intel was correct, a backpack full of heroin. Any heroin was bad, and letting it loose on the Chicago streets was worse.
The epidemic was real, and Chase and his partner were in the middle of it. Deep in the middle of it, chasing low-level runners on the west side of the city.
“Excuse me.” He dodged a woman and her stroller, holding her shoulders so she wouldn’t fall over. “Sorry, ma’am.”
This whole running thing was getting old. It would be so much easier to shoot the drug mules in the leg. Slow them down. But with the people on the streets, it was too risky. Anyway, he couldn’t pull his weapon on two unarmed kids. He wouldn’t.
So instead, his shoes slapped against the pavement. His muscles ached. The air sliced down his dry throat. Why the hell did he need the gym membership with all this cardio? Or a personal trainer? His PT needed to amp up the miles next visit, or Chase needed to find slower perps.
“They’re splitting up
.” Perry pointed at the shorter of the perps turning east on Wrightwood.
“Follow him. I got this one.”
Perry went after the little twerp with the mustache straight out of a seventies porn flick, and Chase turned right on Wrightwood, following the second thug, otherwise known as John Lacik. Chase’s shoes pounded against the cracked one-way street. The civilians thinned as he moved from the busy intersection to the residential blocks.
Lacik stopped and turned around. Chase reached for his gun. Don’t do it, kid. His hand hovered at his holster. “Stop. Police. We need to talk.”
The kid’s blue eyes widened as Chase stalked closer. The kid looked terrified. Blond spiky hair. Baby face. How the hell had this kid ended up shilling for the Vipers?
“I’m not going to jail.”
“No one said anything about jail.” But really, if the kid had as much heroin as Chase’s snitch thought, there was no way there wouldn’t be jail time. He inched closer. “Let’s sit down and talk about this.” Emphasis on the sit.
“Screw you.” Lacik turned his back on Chase. And ran. Naturally.
Chase had really hoped the whole sit thing would pan out. But that wasn’t how this worked. It never worked that way. He followed, running through the gangway between the two houses where the kid just disappeared.
Something banged. Dammit. He needed to move faster or he was going to lose this kid. Bursting through the wooden gate at the front of the tiny backyard, he sprinted toward the back of the patch of grass and the open metal gate for the alley.
Chase spun around, listening, searching. Garbage and exhaust lingered in the air. Small garages intersected with smaller fences lined the length of the unpaved alley. Overflowing metal and plastic trash bins clustered behind each postage-stamp yard. Spurts of grass peeked through small cracks, the gray corridor’s only splash of life.
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