by Meg Anne
“I know you’re in there. I can feel you fuming on the other side of the door.”
“Sonofabitch,” she cursed under her breath, resting her head against the wood for a few seconds.
She opened the door and ignored the way the sight of him made those tiny wings flutter in her chest. “What can I do for you?”
Lucas grinned, releasing that small dimple in his left cheek, and held up the white to-go cups. “I brought you coffee from my sister’s place.”
Skye took the offering and stepped aside to invite him in. She tended to not invite strange men into her apartment—or any men, actually—but something about Lucas set her at ease. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a cop. He probably wouldn’t kill her. Right? She shut the door behind him.
He looked around the living room, nodding slowly. “Nice place.”
“Thanks.” Her apartment was decorated in the warm shades of sunset: red, gold, orange, and yellow. The color scheme made her feel relaxed, and while she knew that was probably due to the Gypsy blood in her veins, it was one part of her heritage she fully embraced. “So, any particular reason you felt the need to look up my address and bring me coffee?”
He turned around, a slight smile to his lips. “My sister sent the coffee; I’m here to apologize.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Apologize for what?”
“Being a grade-A ass.”
Skye snorted. “When were you an ass?”
“Last night when I told you your art sucked.”
She couldn’t help herself, she burst out laughing and took a seat on her couch. “You’re hardly the only person in the world who doesn’t like my art. Hell, you weren’t even the first person to mention it at the show last night.”
He settled on the couch beside her. “Yeah, but I’m probably the only person who’s said it to your face.”
She raised an eyebrow and waited for him to realize what he’d implied.
“Wait. That’s not what I meant.” He covered his face with his free hand and groaned. “I’m messing this all up again.” Lucas looked back up at her, and Skye fought to ignore the jolt of attraction that shot through her. “My sister loves your work, she sent me over here to apologize for being such an inconsiderate ass, in hopes that you two could still be friends.”
“I wasn’t aware we were friends.”
He smiled. “Not yet, maybe, but if Lizzie has her way—and trust me, she usually does—you will be.”
“Well, then. In that case, I promise to not hold your bad choice of words over your sister’s head.”
“Thanks for that. She’ll be thrilled to hear it.” His blue eyes crinkled as his smile grew, but Skye could still see the deep lines bracketing his mouth. A crease she hadn’t noticed that morning was etched between his brows.
The question left her lips before she could stop herself. “Long day?”
“I’m a cop; most of my days are long.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “Comes with the job. That your latest work in progress?” He gestured to the canvas she’d started working on that morning.
Swirls of blue and purple paint covered the white material in what would be the backdrop of a night sky. What she would never admit, especially to him, was that it was inspired by the sky she’d seen the night she and Lucas met on that balcony. The night that led them to this very moment, sitting on her couch like two old friends.
“It is. You want to point out how much you hate that one too?” she teased, enjoying the way the tips of his ears turned red with his embarrassment.
“No, I was actually going to say it looks good.”
She studied him for a moment, not sure whether or not he was being sincere, but there was no sign of deception in his eyes. “Good.”
He nodded. “Not great, though, because I don’t want the compliment going to your head.”
Skye’s lips quirked up as she shook her head. “We wouldn’t want that.” Their eyes met, and her breath caught in her throat. From this distance, she could see varying shades of blue in his irises and the way his thick eyelashes were tipped with gold. Her fingers twitched, eager for her paints.
Needing a distraction, she took a sip of her coffee and nearly groaned. Damn, his sister knew how to brew a good cup of coffee.
“Have any plans tonight?”
“Working.” It wasn’t really a lie. After all, she did have a job to do, but it wasn’t like she could tell him she was going to be staking out his sister’s diner in hopes of thwarting a cold-blooded killer. “You?”
“Probably the same. We’ve got a case we’re working; double homicide.”
“That’s too bad.”
His eyes narrowed as he searched her gaze. “Loss of life is rarely good.”
What is he looking for? “Rarely?” She frowned. “I would say never.”
Lucas shrugged. “Honestly, when you’ve seen what I have, you can’t help but wonder if the world would be a better place without certain people in it.” He took a sip of his coffee. “You from around here?”
“Born and raised.”
“Family still nearby?”
She shook her head. “Just me. My parents died when I was young, so my grandmother raised me. She passed away a few years back.”
His jaw tightened, and he reached out like he wanted to touch her but stopped short when she pulled back. “Sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged it off, not wanting to dig back into that pain that still felt so fresh after all these years. “Thanks. What about you?”
“My parents were in an accident a couple years ago, so it’s just my sister and me.”
“Seems we finally have something in common.”
“I suppose we do.” He fiddled with the lid of his coffee cup.
Skye wished he would just spit out whatever it was he was thinking. It was impossible to ignore the effect he had on her when he was this close.
“Can I ask you what you meant this morning?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” She feigned ignorance, hoping the alarm bells going off in her head weren’t obvious on her face.
“When you told me to watch out for my sister.” His eyes narrowed, and he set his coffee cup down, turning to face her completely.
“What about it?”
“Why would you say something like that?”
Skye paused, trying to think of an answer he would believe. “Because being a single woman in a big city can be dangerous. I’ve had my own run-ins with bad people, and I just get the feeling that your sister is a kind soul. The type who would trust easily. I didn’t mean anything by it, just a ‘be safe’ type of thing.”
He nodded, but the way his mouth compressed into a flat line showed her he didn’t fully believe her response. Great. The last thing I need is a cop on my ass. Hopefully he would at least take her warning seriously.
“Well, in that case,” he stood quickly, retrieving his cup from the small coffee table, “you be safe, too, Skye.” He crossed her living room in a matter of strides, wrapping his hand around her antique doorknob. Glancing over his shoulder, he smirked. “It was great to see you again. I appreciate that you didn’t run off the first chance you got.”
She motioned to their surroundings. “Hard to run when I’m already home.”
He smiled widely, flashing twin dimples. Skye’s breath caught in her throat. Holy dimples, Batman. Those things should come with a warning label.
He cleared his throat, and she raised her gaze to look at his eyes. She’d missed whatever he’d said after blinding her with those matching dimples.
His lips quirked. “ I hope you can forgive me for the art insult—”
“Insults,” she corrected.
He chuckled. “I hope you can forgive me for the art insults and be friends with my sister. I’d really like to continue eating breakfast at her diner.”
Skye let out a laugh and joined him at the door. “You’re off the hook. I was never upset to begin with. Please th
ank her for the coffee.”
“Will do. See you around, Skye.” He opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
She thought she heard him singing softly under his breath, but she didn’t catch the words.
When he disappeared into the stairwell, she closed her door slowly, resting her back against it and closing her eyes. Her stomach buzzed with nerves and her heart fluttered around in her chest. Her head hit the back of the door with a soft thud.
“I am so fucked.”
Chapter 7
Skye
Skye pulled her coat closed more tightly, taking a moment to make sure her hair was mostly covered by her new dark blue beanie. She attempted to look inconspicuous but also not like she was casing the joint. To that end, she opted for what she’d considered stake-out-chic, her outfit a blend of midnight blues and charcoal rather than the traditional black. Who knew trying to save someone’s life would turn into a fashion crisis?
That said, she did sort of love the new scarf she’d found when she was out shopping. It was almost as soft as cashmere, but given the ten-dollar price tag, she was more inclined to believe it was some kind of synthetic blend. It felt like she had a cloud wrapped around her neck, and she kept catching herself cuddling into it. I wonder if I could replicate the way this feels with paint… acrylic maybe, something heavy and textured…
Focus, Skye.
As each hour passed, it became more and more clear that Skye did not have what it took to make a career out of being a stalker. Or really anything that required staying still and quiet.
Within twenty minutes of getting there, she was already itching to go home. After three hours, she was ready to shank somebody for their coffee. The aroma wafted out of the diner each time someone entered or left the building.
Skye’s stomach growled with envy.
The real problem was that absolutely nothing out of the ordinary was going on, besides the pseudo-stalker in the soft new scarf.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo.
People happily went about their business, grabbing a quick bite or something sweet to eat before heading back out to enjoy the rest of their evening.
She stomped her feet on the ground, trying to wake herself up. She was trying to save a life here. No time for distractions. Checking her watch under the dull yellow glow of a nearby street light, she saw it was ten-thirty. Must be close to closing time.
She looked up again as Lizzie flipped the little handwritten sign from “Come in we’re open!” to “Sorry we’re closed!” There were still a few customers in the shop with her, finishing their drinks and desserts. Lizzie laughed and joked with them as she went about cleaning up.
Another twenty minutes passed while the handful of patrons trickled out, and Lizzie’s sole employee finally waved goodbye and headed for the door, leaving Lizzie alone in the still brightly lit diner.
If tonight was the night, the mystery man should be arriving soon.
A few more minutes crawled by, and Skye started to yawn. A flicker of shadows to the right caught her eye. Her adrenaline spiked, her pulse roaring in her ears as her eyes narrowed in on the corner of the brick building, trying to see what the shadows concealed. She was utterly still with the exception of her pounding heart.
“Easy, girl,” she whispered, taking a shaky breath.
She waited for the space of two more heartbeats. Tha-thump. Tha-thump… nothing.
“You’re too late,” a deep voice greeted her.
Skye screamed, spinning around and hurling the first thing her hand could find in her bag at the direction of the voice.
“Whoa! What the fuck!” Lucas shouted, jumping out of the way of a… tampon?
It bounced off his shoulder and landed on the ground. The gods must be laughing at me right now. Only she would try to save herself from a would-be attacker with a feminine hygiene product. And it wasn’t even one of the big boys either, for fuck’s sake.
Lucas crouched to retrieve the tampon, then took a few hesitant steps toward her. “Did you, uh, want this back?” His lips twitched.
Skye snatched it out of his hand, refusing to make eye contact with the bastard who just scared the ever-living crap out of her. Wasn’t she supposed to be the stealthy one? Just more proof that she was nowhere near competent enough for a stakeout.
“Do you make a habit of sneaking up on people?” she snapped, the shock causing her voice to tremble slightly.
He stepped toward her slowly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I thought you were trying to grab a late-night snack, and I was just saying that you were too late.” He motioned to the diner. “She’s closed. I bet I could talk her into heating something up for you, if you ask nicely, though.” He grinned, his dimples flashing and his eyes showing more understanding and sincerity than she thought was fair considering he was the one that just gave her a heart attack. “That is why you’re here, right?” he asked when she remained silent.
Skye opened her mouth to agree, but the sinking feeling in her stomach had her snapping it shut. It didn’t feel right lying to him.
Something flickered in his eyes, and his smile faded. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing outside of my sister’s diner the same night you warned me to keep an eye on her, Ms. Giovanni?”
“Oh, I’m Ms. Giovanni now, Detective?”
“Act like a suspect, I’ll treat you like one.”
Skye glared at him. So much for wanting to tell him the truth. “It’s like you said, Detective. I was burning the midnight oil and wanted more go-juice.”
He narrowed his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Want to try that again? Maybe with the truth this time?”
Skye held her arms out and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a convert. One sip this morning and I’m hooked. Nothing else will scratch that itch, know what I mean?”
His gaze dropped to her lips and his pupils flared. “Mmhmm,” he finally murmured, pulling his eyes up to hers.
She swallowed hard. He was looking at her like she was an ice cream sundae and he wanted to devour her. “It’s just a gut feeling. I was worried about her and wanted to make sure she got home alright.”
Lucas blinked, clearly surprised by her answer.
Skye squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “I swear I don’t make a habit of spying on people. I just have a really bad feeling I can’t shake, and I…” Skye trailed off helplessly. “I would feel terrible if something happened because I was too much of a chickenshit to do anything about it.”
“You warned her brother, who also happens to be a cop,” Lucas pointed out, not unkindly.
Skye crossed her arms and stared in the direction of the diner, refusing to look at him. “Yeah, as much good as that did. It’s hard to make someone take your warning seriously when your only proof is your intuition.”
“I wouldn’t be alive today if I didn’t trust my instinct,” he said, his voice warm. It reminded her of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies, totally decadent and irresistible.
She risked a glance up at him.
“Scouts honor,” he said, holding up his fingers.
She snickered. “Somehow I can’t picture you as a boy scout. You’re a little too rough around the edges. Even for a cop.”
He put his hands over his heart, miming being on the receiving end of a blow. “You wound me, Giovanni.”
“You’ll live, Detective.”
“Can you call me Lucas? Detective sounds so cold coming from you.”
Skye lifted a brow. “I don’t know, can I? You started it with all of your Ms. Giovannis.”
“Fair enough. I’ll stop if you will.”
She pretended to consider, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at the night sky. “Alright, fine. You can be Lucas again, but for the love of God, will you please stop sneaking up on me in the dark?”
He chuckled and had the grace to look embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck. “Uhh, yeah. You might have me there. Sorry about that.”
“I’ll consider forgiving
you if you make good on that coffee.”
“You drive a tough bargain.”
Skye shrugged. “You gave me a heart attack, it’s the least you could do.”
His lips quirked, and she could tell from the way his cheek dipped inward that he was biting down on it, like he was fighting the urge to say something.
Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
He shook his head.
“Spit it out.”
“Nothing, honest.”
“Liar.”
He rolled his eyes. “I was just thinking that it’d be nice to make your heart race in the dark for other reasons.”
Skye’s mouth fell open on a gasp. That was definitely not what she’d been expecting him to say.
She started to speak, but a loud crack cut her off. They both spun in the direction of the diner. All the lights were off and one of the windows had shattered, pieces of glass still raining down onto the sidewalk.
“Fuck!” She broke into a sprint, but Lucas grabbed her elbow.
“Wait, Skye,” he ordered, pulling out his gun. “Stay here.” He raced across the street, not stopping until he barreled through the diner’s door.
“The fuck I will,” she said, running after him.
Chapter 8
Lucas
Lucas burst through the door, not stopping to survey the scene before him. There was no time—not when his baby sister could be in danger. Heart hammering in his chest, he peered into the dimly lit diner searching for any sign of Lizzie.
His eyes landed on a shadow launching toward a figure on the ground. He recognized Lizzie’s bright pink converse and his heart dropped. “Stop right there, asshole!” he yelled, trying like hell to keep his voice from cracking with the bone-chilling fear he felt seeing her crumpled on the ground.
He heard Skye come in behind him, Dammit! Hadn’t he told her to wait? Torn between telling her to get the fuck out and use the back-up, he decided on the latter. She probably would have ignored the order anyway, seeing as how she already disobeyed him once.
