by C. D. Gorri
Nope. Nothing sticking out there, she thought with a relieved sigh.
She wondered what was wrong. Then paused. Sergio was nothing if not determined. Maybe he was thinking of other ways to nail her.
Yes, please.
No, not that kind of nailing, she told her inner hedgie.
The man was a detective, and he thought she was guilty of a crime. Surely, he was just trying to piece together his so-called evidence.
“Uh, is everything okay?” she asked when he continued to stare.
“Where…” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I mean they aren’t yours. Where did you find them?”
“Why, do they look stolen?” She glared at him.
“Uh, no.” He blushed. “They’re a, um, a little snug.”
“Oh, so now I’m fat?”
“What? Fuck no!” he growled. “You’re perfect, Red. It’s just, in those I can see, well, that is…”
Sammi looked down at herself. Poor Sergio was stumbling over his explanation, but she could see what he meant. A flush crept across her cheeks, but it was too late now.
She had assumed that in the dim light of the living room, she could get away with removing her bra for a few hours at least, thinking she was pretty much covered up. But she was mistaken. The snug fit of the thin top clearly displayed the fact that her body knew its mate was nearby.
Sammi cleared her throat and tugged on the hem of the shirt, but that was silly. The movement did nothing to hide her from his eyes. The hardened nubbins of her nipples were visible through the thin cotton, and Sergio’s rapt stare almost brought her to her knees.
Men didn’t typically look at her like that. Like they wanted to lick her from head to toe like an ice cream cone. She found she liked it. A lot.
The heck with it, she thought, and dropped her hands. Why should she hide her body’s reactions? He was a shifter, like her. He could scent her need. Just like she sensed his. Wait a second?
Sniff. Oh, yes.
He was more than interested. The tangy scent of his arousal wafted over to her. Light and airy it floated in the air, piquing her own curiosity. Her hedgie sniffed and pressed her prickles against her skin. She wanted a taste. To see if his skin was sweet as promised.
Yum.
“Sofia left the clothes for me in the kitchen with the cookies,” she whispered, noting the surprised look on his face when he saw the two lemon drop cookies she’d placed on his plate.
“Cookies?”
“On your plate, Mr. Detective.” She licked her upper lip.
He was so darn adorable, with that thick, tousled hair of his and those soul-deep eyes. Sammi knew she was in trouble the first time she spied him. If only he trusted her. Everything would be perfect.
“Thank you,” he muttered. “Really. It was very thoughtful of you.” He smiled sheepishly and lifted the mug to his lips.
“I hope it’s okay. I didn’t know how you liked it.” She shrugged.
“It’s great. Really, thank you.” His voice was a little hoarse, and she realized she was not the only one denying her desires.
Sammi blushed, ridiculously pleased that he liked the snack and drink. Silly, but true. She shook her head and placed her full mug on the tray. Needing space to think, she carried it back to the kitchen.
Washing and drying the cup and saucer, she turned to see Sergio leaning against the wall just watching her with his soulful brown eyes.
“I wanted to apologize about all this.”
“I understand. You have a job to do,” she said, making excuses.
“I know, but you see, Red, I think there is something else we need to discuss.”
“Like what?”
“Like the fact I have been dying to do this since I saw you.” He stepped into her space and dropped his head, stealing a kiss before she had a chance to think, let alone react.
The brief contact was not nearly enough. Before she could stop herself, Sammi grabbed him around the neck and plastered her body to his.
“Same,” she whispered before capturing his mouth with hers.
Sergio growled against her lips, and she moaned softly, loving the slide of his tongue along hers. She traced the inside of his mouth, memorizing him inch by inch, stroke by stroke.
He tasted like crisp spring mornings and sultry summer nights. The kind of man she could keep on kissing for hours on end. But if she gave in to her need for him now, she would not stop until she was bound to him.
“You’re killin’ me, Red,” he growled when she slowed the kiss. “Want you.”
“I want you too. But you still think I did it, don’t you?”
“Red…” He pressed his forehead to hers, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and allowed him to hold her. “It doesn’t matter. Not when we’re like this.”
“It does matter.” She shook her head.
“Either way, you are it for me, Red.”
“There is no either way for me, Detective.”
“Call me Sergio, Red, come on.”
“No. And I won’t kiss you again. Not until I can prove I did not do this.”
“But it’s more than kisses, Red. You know that.”
“I know. It’s what makes this so hard.” She stepped out of his embrace, missing his warmth.
“Okay,” he whispered, letting her go without a fight.
Her hedgehog whined, and she wanted to join in. If he had insisted, if he had kept her in his arms, she would never have been able to resist.
The fact he’d released her should have made her happy. He was being considerate and thoughtful, but dammit, she really did not want to stop kissing her beefy bull.
Sniff. It’s better for us this way.
She really hated when her hedgie made sense.
“All right, Red. We’ll go to your so-called parents’ house.” He nodded toward the door. “Soon as you’re ready.”
“Yeah.” She snorted. “I advise you to get ready as well, Detective. My family is unique.”
She walked away reluctantly, leaving Sergio alone. It was the hardest damn thing she’d ever done. But if she was going to claim that bull, she needed her name cleared first.
Call it pride, or hardheadedness, but for the first time since this whole crazy thing began, Sammi was pissed. Someone had used her as a scapegoat, and she was going to find out who.
Grrrr.
24
Sergio grunted when Red came outside to his borrowed car. She’d left the snug little outfit she’d borrowed from Sofia and put back on the blouse and cargos.
Sad moo.
He was irritable and grouchy. Partially because he hadn’t slept a wink the night before and partially because he was frustrated as hell. Seeing her in the offensive outfit just rubbed him the wrong way.
“What’s eating you?” she said as they drove to the address she’d typed into the car’s GPS.
“Nothing. Are you sure you want to do this? To drive to this house?”
“You want to meet Mom and Dad, right?”
“What are you going to say when they aren’t home, Red? Gonna tell me they’re out shopping? On a business trip?”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” she said and shook her head.
“Have it your way.” He exhaled angrily.
A few minutes later, they exited his borrowed vehicle and climbed up the stone stairs that led to the front door of a large, well-kept home. Those damn pants of hers dipped low in the back, and when she bent to snag the paper, he caught sight of what looked like a little tattoo over her left butt cheek.
Fucking hell.
She was killing him. Damn thing looked like a strawberry too. His favorite.
Grrr.
“Sofia couldn’t give you anything else to wear besides that?” he grunted and felt like an ass.
“Sorry, I didn’t pack an overnight bag when I left for work yesterday morning. I wasn’t exactly aware I was going to be arrested, but next time, call first, and I will see what I can do.” She smi
led sweetly, but the glint in her eye promised retribution.
“Dammit, Red—”
The door flung open, interrupting whatever the fuck he was about to say. Thank goodness, too. He wasn’t sure if he was going to yell, spit, or jump her bones. His bull was pressing for the latter.
Mine.
“Mom! Dad! This is Sergio Gravino.” Red introduced Sergio to her parents.
He stood there for a moment, trying to take in the situation. The television was on somewhere inside, blasting the news. An overhead fan was whirling in the background. And someone was yelling something about cats climbing up the trellis.
“They came in through the window last night. I am telling you! Cats! Evil cats! Fanatic felines! Beware the cats!”
“Hush, Suzi, everything is all right,” the tiny middle-aged woman called out behind her before she turned and glared at Sergio.
It was pure chaos. And only eleven o’clock in the morning. From the hostile looks on the older couple’s faces, who unsurprisingly resembled a certain hedgie that he was admittedly very fond of, Sergio knew he was in the right place.
This was, in fact, her family home and said family was expecting him.
Resigned moo.
The two hedgehogs most certainly belonged to his sweet would-be-mate. The one who was currently shooting I-told-you-so daggers at him with her amber-hued peepers.
Shit.
He had a lot to make up for, but hey, if it was any consolation, he’d figured out he had been wrong about her before they set off to meet her parents.
In fact, after getting his contacts in South Africa to do some digging, Sergio discovered the prickle where she, Samantha Marie Andrews, had been born. They still lived in the same general area. Their shaman was, in fact, the very one who’d delivered her. She’d brought his sweet and tempting mate into the world exactly when her birthmark depicted.
Okay, so he might have spent a little extra time studying the pic he’d taken of her tattoo on the sofa before sneaking into her room to get a better angle while she was lying flat.
No harm in triple checking her story, was there?
Of course, seeing her relaxed in sleep had caused him no small amount of pitiful yearning. She looked like an angel asleep with her hair feathered out around her pillow like a dark halo.
Leaving the beautiful female alone in the bedroom had been hell. Especially after glimpsing the smooth skin of her belly in the moonlight that filtered in through the blinds. But he was no pervert, and he would never dream of doing anything to betray her.
So he’d left, resetting the alarm silently. Back at his temporary desk, he saved the image, enlarged it, then sent a copy to his contacts at NASA, who confirmed the star placement.
Samantha Marie Andrews had indeed been born on February seventh, twenty-six years ago. Younger than him by more than a couple of years, but that was okay. He had reserves of stamina, just waiting to take on this little prickly handful. The very idea was mouth-watering.
Grrr.
First things first. He had to tell her that he knew her story was true. And yes, he acknowledged he was a fucking jerk for assuming she was lying.
But how to tell her? That was the real conundrum. And now that he knew she was not guilty, he also had to protect her. After all, someone seemed out to harm his little hedgie. Fudging the FUCN’A files to make her look guilty and who knows what else.
“Mr. and Mrs. Andrews, it is nice to meet you,” Sergio grunted when the smallish woman zeroed in on him with all-too-familiar light brown eyes.
“This the man who accused you of being a thief and a liar, sweetheart?” Mrs. Andrews asked in a sweet, singsong voice that belied her genuine feelings. Another familial trait he recognized.
Bloody hell.
Anyone with eyes could see she was ready to cut off a part of Sergio’s anatomy that he would much rather keep attached. One that, if truly threatened, he would have to remind her would be the cause of any future grandchildren. Somehow, he did not think that would be enough to persuade her not to act out against the male who had sullied her child’s name.
Ouch. His bull winced at the imagery.
Shifter mamas could rival any wild beastie when it came to protective instincts. The fact that her mother directed her anger toward him, a male whom she thought was out to get her hoglet, had his bull grunting appreciatively.
Red needed caring for. Of course, he fully intended to be the one to provide said caring from now on.
Mine.
“Yes, Mama.” Red smiled sweetly, allowing her parents to embrace her before the three of them turned on him.
“You handcuff my girl, son?” growled her father.
“Sir, I did, but only for a little while.” He nodded.
Sergio refused to tell a lie. It was simply not in his chemical makeup to try and con anyone, be they man, woman, or child. He was an honest bull.
“Cats! Was it the cats? They came in through the window last night.” A short woman with a few obvious scars came running toward them, crouching by the door but not daring to step foot into the sunlight.
“Suzi, love, no cats came in the house.” Mrs. Andrews knelt down and cooed to the woman who Sergio assumed was the mysterious aunt Red had mentioned.
With a little cajoling, the woman went back inside. Sergio would swear she was spying on him from the kitchen, but he couldn’t very well say it. Poor Aunt Suzi, seeing her come to this, must have been hard on his sweet Red.
No wonder she took a year to decide about joining the Academy. He was surprised she had even gone through with it. But she was tough, fierce, and proud in her own right.
He was one lucky bull. Or he would be. If she would have him.
“Mr. and Mrs. Andrews—”
“Sammi, are you all right? Let me see your wrists,” Sally Andrews, Red’s mother, exclaimed, cutting him off.
Shit.
25
This was a really bad first impression. Her parents hated him. And with good reason.
You would, too, assface.
He grunted at his own positive assertion that he would hate anyone who tried to hurt her or even had a bad thought toward the sweet female.
Red was his fated mate. Sergio was not capable of hurting her. The thing was no one else knew that. And what better way to prove himself than to solve the case?
“I am fine, Mama. No bruises. Detective Gravino was a total gentleman. Well, except for the whole falsely accusing me of a crime thing.” She smiled at him as she threw him under the bus.
Sweet little vixen. Bloody fucking hell.
He deserved it, though. And he would take it. He was a bull, not a mouse. Speaking of mice, his phone buzzed, and he looked down at an incoming message.
It seemed Julietta DiCarlo had left HOLE. Against doctor’s orders. And now, Damon Finn was searching for her. Why the hell the man thought Sergio would have any idea where the mouse fled was beyond him.
A second round of furious buzzing and he saw Director Alyce Cooper was messaging him.
“Excuse me a second,” he murmured and read the message while everyone kept yammering away at what was mostly his expense.
Director Cooper’s text claimed new evidence had come to her attention that Samantha Andrews was, in fact, an imposter and she wanted him to bring her in.
No, he texted back. You have the wrong shifter.
Yesterday you were sure she was your criminal. Now I agree with you, DIC Gravino. I suggest you take the win, the llama replied.
No, ma’am, he texted back furiously. You have it wrong. Whoever is passing off those forgeries is very talented, but they were not counting on one thing.
What’s that?
Samantha Andrews is my mate. She is being made a scapegoat, and I refuse to allow her to come to any harm.
You have to be kidding me. Look, you have one hour, Detective. Then every FUC I know will be coming for you both.
You can try, ma’am. But I won’t need that long to prove she is in
nocent.
It was pure bravado, but the pressure was on. He needed to prove her innocence sooner, rather than later.
The sound of Samuel Andrews’ angry chitter brought his head back up.
“I said your name is Gravino, son? The American mobster family? And you accuse my baby girl of being a crook?” Mr. Andrews growled with all the force of his hedgehog glowing in his eyes, and Sergio had the grace to blush.
“No one in my family was ever convicted of a crime, sir,” Sergio explained, cutting off the sound of his own bull’s returning growl.
Making her father hate him more was not the point of today’s visit. Besides, Sergio should be used to speculation when people first heard his surname. It had even happened at the Academy.
Sigh.
“Actually, sir, ma’am, if you will allow me to explain the real reason I am here today…” Sergio walked inside and took a seat on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Red asked, eyes wide.
“Talking to your parents about the case, Red. I think I should fill them in. Don’t you?”
“Okay.” She blinked at him. “You fill in Mom and Dad, but I am going to take a quick shower. Aunt Suzi, come upstairs with me.” Red took her aunt’s hand and led her up the stairs carefully.
Sure, he deserved a little ribbing, but discovering the truth of her birth was not the only thing he’d discovered. Time to lay it all out.
“Well, son?” Mrs. Andrews narrowed her eyes at him, and eleven inches shorter or not, the woman’s stare could freeze the toughest man in his tracks. “I suggest you start explaining.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said and heard the shower upstairs turn on.
Red had truly abandoned him to her parents for a nice, hot soak. She deserved it, he supposed. And dammit, he would really have loved to join her. But while his current situation was daunting, he figured he owed her one or three.
“I had a text from one of our physicians, Dr. Finn, a moment ago. He was treating the recently rescued victim of a kidnapping by a known terror threat against shifters.”
“What do you mean he was treating? Is the poor thing gone?” Mrs. Andrews gasped.
“Oh, no, ma’am. Nothing like that. She simply checked out of the clinic against medical advice. But it was during her rescue that we found documents tying that crime to multiple identity thefts involving shifters that I’ve been investigating.”
