Nice & Naughty

by Tawny Weber

  * * *

  PERCHED SO LONG on the wooden stool that her butt was numb, Jade leaned her elbows on the high library counter, scrolling through photos on the computer. Her focus in life might be fashion first, followed closely by empowerment in all its forms. But if five years in the library had taught her nothing else, they’d taught her the art of research. There was very little by way of information that Jade couldn’t find.

  Including, it seemed, photographs and information on a certain sexy detective. She sighed as she enlarged a newspaper shot of Diego Sandoval in track shorts, sneakers and little else. His bare chest was partially obscured by the

  T-shirt he was using to wipe his face, but the grainy black-and-white photo did lovely justice to the rounded muscles of his biceps and shoulders.

  Oh, baby. She waved her fingers in front of her face. She’d been right. He was built beautifully. Like a male underwear model.

  He came across as a loner. All the information she’d found, which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot, seemed to support the message of a guy who did life solo. But he participated in the Cops and Kids Olympics?

  Winning, she noted after forcing her gaze off the photo and on to the text, in four different events. Her eyes actually teared up when she saw one event was swimming and they hadn’t included a photo of him in swim trunks. Or—she licked her lips—maybe he’d worn a Speedo like the guys in the real Olympics. He had one, after all.

  His name was mentioned in a few crime-beat articles, his commendations touted in the county newsletter, and that was about it. No Facebook page. No Twitter account. Nothing else coming up on Google. So unless she tiptoed across the line and checked one of those pay-to-stalk sites, that’s all she was getting to aid her in figuring him out.

  That, and her own impression.

  Which was admittedly clouded by lust.

  Still, she got the feeling that Diego Sandoval was exactly what he said. A good cop, who was definitely sexy as hell. And his sexiness had nothing to do with vanity, she figured. No, he seemed to regard his sexy body as a tool.

  A tool she’d love to use a few times.

  Without taking her eyes from the photo, she reached for her tea. She grimaced as the rich honey-laced caffeine slid down her throat. Lukewarm was so...tasteless. Boring, even. Honey was best heated up. Maybe drizzled over a set of rock-hard abs. She’d bet it tasted extra sweet licked off that body. Was he one of those “service me and be grateful” kind of guys? She didn’t think so. She’d got the “best sex of your life” vibe from him. Which meant he’d be the kind who’d reciprocate with the honey licking.

  Oh, to be licked by a man who knew what to do with his tongue. Who could use it gently, in soft swirling enticement. Or roughly, with voracious hunger. Or, oh, please, yes, with plunging strength, in a scream-inducing rhythm.

  “Sweetie, are you sure you should be in this morning? You could have taken the day off, you know.”

  Crap.

  Her face flushed and breath a little shaky, Jade ripped her gaze from the computer screen and her mind from its fantasy over Diego Sandoval licking warm honey from her naked body.

  “I’m fine, Mom. I don’t like laundry enough to take an entire day off to do it,” Jade said, trying to lighten the worry lines etched in her mother’s forehead. Opal Carson had seen enough stress in the last five years. She didn’t need to be worrying about creeps fondling her daughter’s undies.

  “Still, you don’t look like you got much sleep.” Opal frowned up at her daughter from her motorized scooter. “You could have taken a half day, slept in a little.”

  “I’d rather be here, keeping busy,” Jade said with a cheerful smile, hoping to redirect the conversation. “Besides, if I stayed away today, I’d have to come in tomorrow. And tomorrow’s crafts day.”

  She gave an exaggerated shudder, rubbing her hands over the billowing sleeves of her shirt as if trying to overcome the horror.

  “You know how I feel about crafts day, Mother. Don’t make me face glue sticks and glitter. And sequins. Oh, the sequins.”

  Opal’s lips twitched and she shook her head. “It’s beyond me how a girl as creative as you could hate crafts.”

  “I have no imagination,” Jade said, shrugging as she slid from the stool. Time to quit drooling in the name of research and get to work.

  “Darling, you have the best imagination of anyone I know.”

  “That’s because you’re the best mother of anyone I know,” Jade said, coming around the counter and bending to plant a loud kiss on her mother’s cheek. “And I’m not at all biased.”

  “Jade—”

  Dammit. Tension spiked through Jade’s system, swirling through her temples as if it wanted to take up residence and start pounding away. Before it could, and more important, before her mother could voice whatever motherly concern had her frowning at her middle child, a voice interrupted.

  “Excuse me, ladies?”

  Jade turned, automatically stepping aside so her mom could maneuver the scooter around the desk to face the speaker.

  Well, well. Look who was turning into her very own knight in leather armor. Detective Sandoval stood just inside the entrance, the morning sunlight filtering in behind him doing nothing to soften his bad-boy edginess.

  She offered a wide, welcoming smile. It was only her mother’s presence that kept her gaze from dropping to the front of his jeans to see if they fit as well as she remembered. Checking out a guy’s package was definitely a nonparental event.

  “Good morning, Detective Sandoval. This is my mother, Opal Carson.” Just a little breathless, she introduced them with a wave in what she figured was her mom’s general direction. Her mom might have been perched on the roof for all she could tell, though, she was so fixated on the sexy detective. “Mom, this is Diego Sandoval. He’s the detective that Mayor Applebaum brought in to deal with the underwear thefts.”

  “Detective, it’s nice to meet you.”

  “Ma’am,” Diego greeted, shaking her hand with a quick smile that flashed enough warmth and charm to make Jade wish she was the panting type.

  “I hope you’re taking this case more seriously than the rest of the town.”

  “I take every case seriously. This one is no different.” He had that perfect “just the facts, ma’am” tone. “I won’t stop until I’ve found the creep who broke into your daughter’s house.”

  His words were intent enough for Jade to settle against the counter, pretty sure her mother wouldn’t send her to the Religious Studies section to get a bible for him to swear on.

  “And you’re good at your job?” Opal asked, making her daughter groan.

  “The mayor has access to my service history. He’s spoken with my captain, who I’m sure gave a full and honest reference.” He paused, an indecipherable look flashing across his face. Then he tilted his head toward the phone on the counter. “I have no problem with you taking your questions to the mayor. Actually, I’d appreciate it. The quicker people cooperate, the quicker I’ll solve this case.”

  “I’ll be talking with Mayor Applebaum this afternoon.”

  Even though he’d told her to do just that, Jade cringed at her mother’s words. Diego smiled, though, and gave a satisfied nod. Then his gaze flicked toward Jade. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have after your discussion. In the meantime, I need a few minutes with your daughter. I have some follow-up questions pertaining to last night’s burglary.”

  “Take her home,” Opal directed, waving her hand toward the door. “I’ve been trying to talk her into going, but she doesn’t listen to me. You’re an officer of the law, so you can force her to listen to you.”

  “Mom!” Jade exclaimed.

  “It would actually be a lot more convenient if I could take another look at the crime scene.”

  Take him back to her
bedroom?

  Images of the two of them, naked and covered in honey, slid through her mind. She tucked them into the corner, knowing she couldn’t enjoy them or their yummy effect while in the same room as her mother.

  “I’ll be back after lunch,” Jade muttered, grabbing her purse from the cubby beneath the counter and slinging the long leopard-print strap across her chest. Diego followed her up the steps. She reached for the door, but before she could pull it open, his large hand covered hers. Warm, callused, intense, his touch sent shivers of desire spiraling through her body. Her legs tensed, heat pooling between her thighs.

  Oh, please, let it be a honey-drenched lunch, she wished as the cool morning enveloped them.

  * * *

  DIEGO GRATEFULLY SLID his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose. Not in defense against the winter sun’s weak rays. But because he needed something between him and the pretty little pixie. Her mouth was as clever as her looks were sweet.

  He hadn’t been able to get her—or those stretching moves she’d unknowingly tortured him with the previous night—out of his mind. A first for a noncriminal.

  “So how does a detective go about solving a case like this?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts. “Visit each house in town and inspect their underwear drawers?”

  Although he’d ridden his Harley to the library, he didn’t mention it as they walked past, toward the sidewalk. Walking was better. More exercise, a safe distance between their bodies. And, he noted as a set of curtains twitched when they passed a quaint A-frame, lots of witnesses. On the Harley, she’d have her arms wrapped around his body, her chest pressed to his back, and he’d likely drive right out of town to the nearest motel where he could beg her to switch positions.

  Behind the pseudo safety of his dark glasses, he let his eyes eat her up. Her hair was just as tousled today as it’d been the day before, spiked ends thick around her shoulders and the bangs a sweeping tousle across one eye. Green earrings, a perfect match for her eyes, dangled to her jaw. Under the weathered leather jacket, she wore a black cotton shirt, the collar flipped up to frame her throat. Red lace peeked through the unbuttoned front of the shirt.

  The black shirt was huge, hanging halfway down her denim-clad thighs. She’d wrapped a skinny red belt twice around her waist, so despite its size, the fabric followed her curves instead of hiding them. But it was the boots that held his attention. The woman had a way with boots. Black, again, these were flat-heeled and the suede over-the-knee style.

  Sexy bohemian, was all he could think.

  Very, very sexy bohemian.

  His gaze met hers again.

  “What’re you doing here?” he wondered aloud.

  Both her brows arched as she gave him, then the holiday-festooned neighborhood, a questioning look.

  “I mean, you don’t seem like a small-town type of woman.”

  Her eyes dimmed. Lashes fluttering, she slid her gaze toward the ground as if she was afraid the sidewalk was going to buckle at any moment. After a second or two, she gave a one-shouldered shrug.

  “This is my home. I was born here, grew up here. My family is here.”

  Wondering why any of that would tempt someone to stay in a place that clearly didn’t suit them, he looked around. Old houses, old people, no nightlife, more twitching curtains. Nothing worth sticking around that he could see.

  “So that’s it?” he clarified. “Roots and family ties?”

  He almost wanted to hand her his sunglasses so she could hide the stricken look that swam in her bright gaze. Not so much for her sake, but for his. Seeing it made him want to slay dragons, kick asses and offer hugs. Clearly he was going crazy.

  Then she puffed out a breath as if she was blowing away the urge to run, and shrugged. “It is what it is. The why doesn’t matter.”

  A sentiment he usually lived by.

  So why did it bother him so much to hear it from her?

  Then she gave him a big smile.

  “But hey, the upside is I know everyone in town. And I know everything about everyone in town,” she said, her words rising with excitement. “You know what that means, right?”

  “That privacy is a myth in Diablo Glen?”

  Her laugh was like a bell, bright and cheery.

  “Well, yeah, but that’s a good thing because it means I can really help you out,” she offered, placing an enthusiastic hand on his arm. “I’ll introduce you around, lay the groundwork so people will talk to you, let you know if you’re getting the facts or works of fiction. It’ll be great.”

  Great?

  He glanced at her hand, so small and slender on his arm. He couldn’t feel her warmth through the leather of his sleeve, but he swore tiny sparks of electric heat shot from her fingers through his body, setting fire to all his erogenous zones.

  Was she trying to kill him? First she made him think he was a superhero, making the first promise of his life. Then the almost-naked stretch session the night before that’d given him more aches than the too-uncomfortable-to-be-believed Speed Racer bed. Now this? As much time with her as he wanted, all in the name of solving a case?

  “Thanks, but I work alone.”

  “Well, sure. But this is a special circumstance, right? I have something you need, and I’m happy to share it.” Her smile teetered somewhere between sexual temptation and friendly encouragement.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be fine without help.”

  With a look somewhere between exasperated and amused, Jade shrugged. “Okay. But if you want easier entry, a smoother experience and quicker satisfaction, you just give me a yell.”

  His body hardened as heat flashed, forbidden and sweet.

  Yep. She was trying to kill him.

  6

  DIEGO HAD NEVER ACTIVELY, desperately craved a woman the way he craved Jade at that moment. Had never needed to bury his face in the tender curve of her throat and breathe in her essence to see if it was as sweet as he thought. Resisting her when they were alone in her house would put all his cop training to the test.

  “Holy crap,” she breathed, stopping so fast he was surprised she didn’t slam face-first into the sidewalk. Had he thought that out loud? He watched her eyes round in slow, horrified increments.

  “What?”

  Jade sprinted down the sidewalk so fast, Diego didn’t know if she even heard him. As he stepped forward, the huge tree no longer blocked his view of her front yard.

  He winced. “Holy crap, indeed.”

  Her house looked as if it was waving its sexy flag. The front lawn, porch and a few bushes were all sporting lingerie. Panties here, bras there. A single black stocking dangled from a wind chime.

  Another hit? Diego didn’t change his pace. No point since the apparent culprits were still in the front yard, both gathering lacies before the chilly wind could grab them away.

  Jade didn’t seem too worried about her lingerie blowing in the wind, though. She stormed right past the pretty little blonde trying to pluck a bra down from a naked tree branch.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she snapped at the guy on her porch, one tennis-shoe-clad foot propping the screen open while he quickly tossed handfuls of undies inside. The guy straightened so fast his shaggy brown hair hit him in the eyes.

  “We’re sorry,” the blonde said before Shaggy could defend himself. “I felt horrible when I heard what happened to your lingerie. I knew you’d be totally ooked out, so I came over this morning to take it to Mom’s to wash. I was bringing it back and had my hands full.”

  Mom’s? Reaching the front yard, Diego studied the other woman. Twenty at the most, she was as blonde and tiny as Jade, but softer. Girlie curls tumbled around a face rounder, but no less striking, than her sister’s. A pale blue skirt floated around her feet, matching the cloud-soft-looking sweate
r peeking out from her long, white wool coat. There was a third Carson sister, wasn’t there? Diego scratched his chin, wondering if the gene fairy had been just as generous with that one, too.

  “I tripped going up the steps, though,” the pretty blonde said, almost in tears as she rose to her feet and angled one leg to show the dirty rip at the hem of her skirt. “The basket flew out of my hands and your unmentionables went everywhere. Oh, Jade, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not worried about the underwear, Beryl. I want to know where my cat is,” Jade snapped, not looking pacified at all. Diego was impressed. He considered himself hardened and tough, but he’d have had trouble resisting the pleading sweetness in the younger woman’s look. Must be some kind of sibling immunity.

  “I thought I was helping,” Shaggy excused sullenly from the porch. Ignoring Diego, he crossed his arms over his expensive ski jacket and gave Jade a look just as pouty as his girlfriend’s. Diego couldn’t help grinning. The pair of them looked like the last two sad puppies in a pet-store window on Christmas Eve.

  “Helping? I’m under strict orders by the mayor, and by Mom, to keep Persephone inside for a reason,” Jade scolded as she swept her hand toward the house next door. Diego followed the gesture, then winced. The cute wooden gingerbread house was lying on its side, tinsel shredded around a mangled foam candy cane.

  “Neal didn’t mean to let her out,” the other woman explained quietly as she drew herself up. She gave Diego a curious look, but kept her focus on pacifying her sister. Tilting her chin so the curls slid over her shoulder, she waved her hand in a move worthy of any prom princess. “Neal was carrying some gift boxes that I wanted to hide here so Mom couldn’t find them. Suddenly Persephone got all crazy. Growling at him and hissing and stuff. Then I tripped and when he came out to help me, she just sort of took off. You know how she is this time of year.”

  Was the cat really that bad? He cast a quick, suspicious glance around the bushes, glad to be wearing thick leather motorcycle boots. Just in case.

  “She’s supposed to stay inside,” Jade said stiffly, as if she was having to filter her words through her teeth to keep the cussing at the back of her tongue.