Bad Boys of Summer

by Lori Foster, Erin McCarthy

“But, but…” she sputtered, “I can’t—”

  “Take me?” Lucius offered.

  She rounded on him, her face on fire. “Don’t—”

  “For Marci?” he coerced, and even as he prodded her, he thought he really should shut up. It wasn’t that he liked to be tortured, but now he wanted to go to Marci’s apartment.

  Just because Bethany didn’t want him there.

  Marci huffed out a long breath. “Will you two quit acting like bumbling high-schoolers and just go? Bethany, after all your upset last night—”

  “What upset?” Lucius asked, but both women soundly ignored him.

  “—you need more sleep, too. You know, on second thought, you can take my bed, and Luscious can—”

  “His name isLucius .”

  “—take the couch, and I’ll take Hero to the vet.” Content with the arrangement, Marci smiled. “There. Everyone should be happy.” She turned and strolled away. The hem of the T-shirt bunched up on her rounded rump, putting her panties, and a very fine ass, on display. Lucius stared.

  Until Bethany popped him one on the shoulder.

  “Ow. Damn.” He gave up the view of Marci leaving his apartment to glare at Bethany.

  Seething, she said, “You are such a perv.”

  “I’m a perv? Your sister is the one sashaying around in her undies.” Giving me an idea of what you’d look like in your undies.

  Arms crossed tight beneath her breasts, bare foot tapping, Bethany stared off at nothing in particular. Finally, she muttered, “You’re a hypocrite, too.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “You ridicule Marci’s abilities, then come running the second you think she can help you.”

  “I don’t ridicule her. I tease her. There’s a difference.”

  “Whatever you call it, you’ve always discounted her ability.”

  What was he supposed to do? Should he say, Great, you’re a pet physic. Just what we need in the complex? Lucius didn’t like being put on the spot.

  “Admit it,” Bethany pressed.

  He argued the point instead. “You’re telling me that if a woman came to you to rent a room, and she claimed to be a pet psychic who needed a place to hide out to avoid the media and unscrupulous scam artists hoping to use their pets for fame, you wouldn’t bat an eye?”

  “Not if it was my sister.”

  Lucius threw up his hands. “Nowthat makes a lot of sense,” he said, with complete and utter facetiousness. “But news flash, honey. Marci isn’t my sister.”

  “That shouldn’t matter. What I meant was that Marci comes across as genuine.”

  “Genuinely loony.” Never had Lucius known a woman more flighty, more prone to melodrama, more…ethereal. The twins might look alike, but they were night and day in disposition.

  Marci floated through life.

  Bethany stomped.

  “She’s also honest,” Bethany insisted.

  “You’ve got me there.” Marci might be strange enough to chat with every squirrel in the trees, but she never caused trouble, and she paid her rent on time. Lucius could trust her. Hadn’t he just agreed to trust her with his dog?

  “And caring. About everyone and everything.”

  “No argument.” What the hell were they talking about, anyway? With Bethany standing there, full of fire, he could barely think, much less chatter. How could a woman look so good first thing in the morning? Ratty hair and sleep creases around the eyes had never turned him on before.

  Now they had him close to a full-blown lust-fest.

  “So you know she’s honest and caring.” Bethany looked ready to rest her case.

  “Sure.” Lucius smiled to himself. “But she’s still a dingbat—and before you take aim on my poor arm again, I say that with affection.”

  “You can jam your affection where the sun don’t shine, Sergeant.”

  “Doesn’t shine,” he corrected, and watched her eyes burn like blue flames. He tsked. “And you call yourself a school secretary. The fate of our young people is not in good hands.”

  She growled better than Hero. Spinning away from him, she started to stomp off, and Lucius caught the back of her shirt. Her legs almost came out from under her.

  Fists raised, she reared around and he quickly backed up.

  “Uncle, uncle. Don’t batter me. I just wanted to apologize.”

  Suspicion kept her guarded. “For what?”

  “For deliberately razzing you. Obviously, you’re not a morning person. But the truth is, I like your sister. Always have.”

  If anything, his confession made her angrier. “Great,” she said through her teeth. “Just great. Glad to hear it. So you two are cozy? Never mind. It’s…great. News, that is. What a relief.”

  He couldn’t hold back his grin. “Now Bethany, don’t get jealous.”

  Her gasp nearly parted his hair.

  “I like Marci as a friend,” he soothed. “Granted, a female friend. But I’m not hot for her or anything.”

  She wore an expression of clear disbelief.

  “It’s true. As a rule, I avoid getting romantically involved with the women I rent to.” He closed the space between them. “Which, come to think of it, is a damn good reason not to rent to you.”

  Bethany’s mouth opened twice before anything came out. “You…”

  He noticed that she didn’t move away. “Yes?”

  “Conceited…”

  She seemed to flounder after that, so Lucius tried to help out. “Handsome?”

  “Obnoxious…”

  “You mean confident, right?”

  “Egomaniac…”

  “Now that’s just not nice.”

  “Jerk!”

  His blood sang through his veins. “If I kissed you right now, would you slug me?”

  To his surprise, she pokered up and glared and—seemed to think about it.

  Not that he’d kiss her, Lucius assured himself. The fantasies alone nearly killed him. To get the real thing would do him in, especially if she kissed him and then sent him packing, which, given her past and present attitude toward him, seemed a pretty good possibility.

  Besides, she was the twin sister to a tenant. Too close for comfort if things went south. Bethany Churchill would be nothing but trouble. Tasty trouble, for sure. Just look at her mouth. So soft and damp…

  “No.”

  “What’s that?” The barely-there whisper sort of snuck by him while he’d considered licking her lips for her.

  “I said no.”

  “I’ve forgotten my question.” He needed clarification. He needed more oxygen. He needed her under him. “No, you don’t want me to kiss you, or no, you wouldn’t object?”

  She blinked hard and fast. Somehow, that seemed like a come-on.

  “Bethany?” He got so close, his feet touched hers—which meant her breasts brushed against him and he knew damn good and well she didn’t wear a bra. He bent to touch his nose to her hair, taking in her scent…

  Her hands flattened on his chest and in a small voice, she whispered, “Please, don’t.”

  Well, shit. Disappointment cleared the fog. “Okay.” But he didn’t back off. He couldn’t. Not just yet.

  The dog started to snore, making Lucius smile. But Hero didn’t count against their privacy. They were alone. In his bedroom. “Wanna tell me why?”

  Her shuddering, indrawn breath moved her breasts against him, and he felt her stiffened nipples. He swallowed a groan. “Bethany?”

  “I have…enough guy trouble already.”

  Those words landed like lead in his gut. “I see.” He didn’t want to hear about her with other guys. He knew she dated. How could she not? She was gorgeous, sexy, funny, and smart. But the last he’d heard from Marci, she didn’t have anything serious going on. “And you assume I’d be more trouble?”

  “You’re a bad boy, remember.” She chanced a quick look up at him, and Lucius snagged her gaze.

  Unable to stop himself, he slid one hand into her hair. “You te
lling me you don’t like bad boys?”

  Her smile trembled. “You’re not really bad and you know it.”

  “Now, how’d you get that impression?”

  “For one thing, you’re a cop.”

  “Yeah.” His thumb touched just below her ear. “I get to shoot at people.”

  She smiled, seeing through his humor. “For another, you help women.”

  His heart missed a beat. “Come again?”

  “Lucius. You rent only to women, and those women were all in dire straits and in need of housing. You can’t tell me that happened by accident.”

  “Sure, I can.” But she might be onto something there.

  She gestured at the bed. “You also rescue dogs.”

  Throwing her words back at her, he said, “It’s an attitude thing.”

  “What is?”

  “Being bad. It’s not what you do, but how you do it. When it comes to relationships, I’m as bad as can be.”

  “Oh, I have no trouble believing that. Any woman with a brain knows you’d be disastrous to her heart.”

  “I don’t want your heart, Bethany.” Liar, liar. His gaze slid over her. His voice dropped. “I want the rest of you, though.”

  Regret filled her eyes—and she took that fatal step away. “Sorry, Lucius. I’m off the market for a while. If the past week—the past month hadn’t happened…” She dropped that train of thought with a shrug. “Right now, I’m just looking to relocate, not get involved.”

  Protestations arose—until the last of what she’d said finally sank in. “Relocate?” He strangled on the word.

  Brassiness returning, she grinned and patted his jaw. “Yup. I quit my job, dumped a guy, and canceled the lease on my apartment. I’m moving into your neck of the woods.”

  Lucius clutched his heart. He pretended dread, when really all he cared about was that she’d rid herself of his competition. She didn’t need any old flames—not when he intended to be her new love.

  Yeah, she claimed to be uninterested. But he’d change her mind about that. How, he didn’t know, but he’d make it happen. He had to.

  Because deep down, he knew he’d fallen in love with her from day one. Now he had to work on keeping her around…forever.

  Twenty minutes later, Lucius should have been dead asleep. Exhaustion dragged at him, but instead of nodding off, he thought about Bethany sleeping in the bedroom just a few feet away.

  Had she skinned off those jeans again, so that she wore only the shirt and sexy panties? Was she thinking about him? His stomach tightened at the thought.

  She’d be warm. And soft.

  And probably grouchy, but he could live with that. Hell, after so many fawning women, her grouchiness turned him on.

  Frustrated on several levels, he put an arm over his eyes and groaned raggedly. He might be tired, but the old John Henry was wide awake.

  A moment later, the bedroom door opened, startling him. He dropped his arm and rose to one elbow to stare at Bethany.

  For endless seconds, they watched each other.

  Finally, she asked, “What are you groaning about?”

  Not bothering to censor his thoughts, he said, “I’m horny.”

  Her gaze dipped down his body to where a boner tented the sheet. She did some serious staring.

  He got a little harder.

  “Oh,” she finally said.

  He groaned again. “Your sister must be a sadist. She had to know how I’d react to all this.”

  “This?”

  “You. The proximity of you. My thoughts of you. My lusting for you.”

  She touched her mouth with one hand and shook her head. “No, she’s not real clued in to guys.”

  “But you are?”

  She laughed, but with hurt, not humor. “No, I’m worse than she is.”

  “Because some idiot boyfriend did you wrong?”

  One shoulder lifted.

  “The guy you dumped to come here?”

  “He wasn’t even really a boyfriend, just someone I dated a few times. He wanted to use me to get to Marci. I was dumb enough to think he was interested in me. Luckily I figured out the truth early on.” Her gaze remained south of his face.

  “It’s not going to do tricks, ya know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “My dick.” Her gaze shot up to meet his. “Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s as big as it gets, and without some action from you, not much more is going to happen, no matter how long you stare.”

  She sucked in a furious, embarrassed breath while turning bright red-hot. “You’re…”

  “Really turned on. And sort of pissed at this jerk who misled you. And a little worried about Hero. But yeah, mostly turned on.”

  She looked around, probably for something to throw at him.

  Lucius took pity on her. “Go back to bed, Bethany. I’ll try to suffer in silence.”

  “Good idea.”

  What, his suffering? Before she could shut the door, Lucius said, “But Bethany?”

  She kept her back to him. “What?”

  “I won’t ever lie to you. You’ll always know exactly what I’m thinking—”

  “Which is part of the problem!”

  “—and exactly who I’m interested in.”

  She hesitated, her back rigid, her breathing deep. Then she gave one quick nod and muttered, “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure, and yours if you ever decide you’re interested.”

  This time, Bethany groaned. She started to walk away, but hesitated. “Lucius?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m far from disappointed.”

  “Is that right?”

  She cleared her throat. “If you were any bigger, well…Never mind.” She dashed inside the bedroom and closed the door with a firm click.

  A few seconds later, smiling from ear to ear, Lucius settled back down on the couch. He’d only been teasing her about being disappointed. Hell, he knew he wasn’t lacking in that area—but it was cute that she wanted to reassure him.

  He chuckled, and despite his state of unrelieved arousal, fell into a deep sleep that led to erotic dreams. Of Bethany.

  Three

  Lucius awoke with a pounding head and a lot of disorientation. His legs were cramped, his right arm numb from hanging over the edge of a cushion, and the silence in the apartment sounded louder than a gun blast.

  A squinty-eyed glimpse at the clock showed it to be dinnertime, which maybe explained why his stomach rumbled in demand for nourishment.

  Where had Bethany gotten off to?

  How was Hero?

  Did Marci have any pants on yet?

  Funny that the image of a beautiful woman in her panties was his last thought and not his first.

  He sat up, listened, but the apartment was definitely empty. To be on the safe side, he stood, stretched, then retrieved his pager and phone from the pockets of his jeans.

  Normally he slept in the nude, but given the circumstances, he’d left on loose shorts, so he clipped both devices to the waistband. SWAT could get a call-out at any time, so he went nowhere, not even on his off days, without the phone, pager, and everything else that might be needed.

  His pickup truck had a lockable hardtop tonneau cover on it. In the bed of his truck, he stored several thousand dollars worth of equipment that included anything he might need on a run, from camouflage BDU uniforms to two large bags of tactical and sniper gear, and a variety of ammunitions.

  Being the cautious sort, Lucius wanted to make sure he was alone. He snuck toward the bedroom and peeked inside. The neatly made bed proved that Bethany was long gone, and that he’d slept like the dead. How the hell had she tiptoed out around him, without him hearing her?

  Had she paused to look at him? Had he snored? Had he enticed or repelled her?

  He ran a hand over his rumpled hair and laughed. God, he was worse than a woman with all his fretting. Enough, already.

  Still groggy, he made use of the bathroom, then splashed
his face and rinsed his mouth. He’d kill for coffee, but the carafe sat cold and empty, and he wanted to find Bethany more than he needed the caffeine kick.

  Wearing only the loose drawstring shorts with his phone and pager, he opened the door to head for his apartment—and faltered.

  What the hell? Even through the closed door, he could hear music and laughter. Were they having a party without him? At his place?

  Annoyance rose, until he remembered that Marci, who worked as an aerobics instructor, gave free classes to the other tenants once a week.

  Usually they gathered in her living room, but since he’d sacked out on her couch, he supposed he should be grateful that they’d chosen his living room instead.

  Regardless of Bethany’s accusations, he hadn’t deliberately rented only to women. At least, not consciously. But he was a sucker for a woman with a hard-luck story, and in his line of work, he saw a lot of women burdened with the shittiest luck imaginable.

  Fifty-year-old Esther owned a boutique. Now. But when he’d met her, she’d just left a long-term abusive marriage that ended with a threat deadly enough to warrant SWAT. It had taken almost a year of adjustment before Esther really started to live it up. Then she dyed her graying hair black to match her dark eyes and she started dancing again. The boutique she bought afforded her just enough cash flow to handle Lucius’s cheap rent in the less-than-quality neighborhood.

  Amanda, with her red hair and rhinestone-studded glasses, epitomized his vision of a forty-year-old barmaid. He’d met her during a holdup.

  Devine was a beautiful brunette dancer in her early thirties who’d been taken hostage by a stalker who claimed to “love” her.

  And twenty-three-year-old, ebony-skinned Tyra was a student/waitress who’d been in class when an escaped fugitive tried to use the college as a negotiating point.

  Through tragic circumstances, he’d met all the women and learned of their financial, personal, and professional troubles. Naturally, he did what he could.

  They all lived on very fixed or limited incomes. They were all without family support. They each worked hard just to stay afloat.

  Originally, he’d planned to rent out all six units in the building. But then the women grew on him. He liked their quirky personalities and respected their gumption. Since he enjoyed doing repairs on the old building himself, and because he figured they could use a man around to keep an eye on things, he took up the sixth unit himself.