She held Drake’s gaze for a long, meaningful moment, hoping he would see the apology in her eyes. They would have to deal with his anger before they could work together. She’d expected that, though she wished they didn’t have to start off that way.
Steeling herself to absorb more fury, she shifted her attention to Rhett. The boyish smile that stretched his lips had a startling effect on her system. The instant burn in her pussy morphed to a raging inferno as she stared into his eyes. Where Drake’s eyes had always reminded her of a summer day, she’d thought of cooler temperatures when she’d looked into Rhett’s. They were light brown with darker hues that resembled fallen leaves on a cold, winter day. She didn’t see any ice in his eyes now. She saw only warmth.
“It’s good to see you again, Alex.”
His sexy, roughened voice stroked her flesh like a physical caress. Her nipples beaded and juices leaked from between her folds to wet her panties.
Taken off guard by his demeanor, she managed a small smile. “You, too, Rhett.”
“Palmer and Letson have been heading the investigation on the island,” John Cabelly said and stood once more. “I have other matters to see to, so I will leave you in their capable hands.”
Alex watched the sheriff as he moved toward the door, wondering if was her imagination that had put that odd inflection in his tone when he said “capable hands.” Years of training and doing her job had honed her observation skills to sharpened points. No, that hadn’t been her imagination. John Cabelly obviously knew more about her past with Rhett and Drake than that they had merely worked together at the New Orleans PD.
Marcus Winters bid her good-bye and followed the sheriff out of the room. Alex waited until she heard the door click before she started to speak. Before she could open her mouth, Drake got up and walked to her end of the table.
Her heart skipped with each step he took that brought him closer. She fought the urge to squirm, knowing she couldn’t afford to make even the most basic blunder in his presence. He stopped at the corner of the table and her skipping heart found a new, accelerated rhythm.
“Cabelly said the FBI believes Lynette Cross’s murder is connected to a series of others in the southern states.” Though it was the most words he’d said yet, every one of them landed like golf-ball-sized hail in the silence of the room. “Do you have files or something in that briefcase we can compare with what we’ve gathered here?”
Alex looked up at him, but didn’t make a move to open her briefcase. Not only had she forgotten how incredibly handsome Drake Palmer was, she hadn’t remembered the powerful presence he could be. Standing over her now, she felt that power attempting to overtake every synapse in her body. “I do.”
One cocky brow kicked up on his handsome face. “I don’t suppose you care to share it with us?”
Gathering every bit of the poise and competence she’d perfected over the years, she flattened her hands on the table and stood, tipping her head back as she gazed up at him. Damn if she was going to let him and Rhett play this sweet deputy, angry deputy game with her this entire investigation. “I have every intention to after we clear the air.”
He jerked his head once and his eyes hardened. “There’s not any air to clear. The three of us are here to do a job. I would’ve thought you, of all people, would have your priorities in order.”
Alex felt her temper spark at those stinging words. “I have my priorities in order,” she said tightly, and poked a finger into his chest. It was like stabbing a steel plate. “However, I cannot do my job to the best of my abilities when I have a partner who would rather string me up by my toes than say a kind word to me.”
A starkly sexual expression washed over his face before he quickly masked it. “Baby, if I was going to string you up by anything, it damn sure wouldn’t be your toes.”
Alex gulped as desire bolted through her. No, it would be her hands rather than her toes. He’d bind them behind her back while he did torturously spectacular things to her body until she was begging him to fuck her. She shut off the memories of those long ago nights when he’d done exactly that.
“You’re still angry with me.”
“Well, there’s a newsflash,” he said dryly.
Alex struggled to hold onto her cool. “Yet, you would prefer to jump right into the case rather than taking five minutes to hear me out?”
“And you would prefer to spend five minutes flapping your jaws instead of working to figure out who killed that girl, and maybe the others, before he strikes again?”
She gritted her teeth and knew she was losing the fight. “What I would prefer is to work under warmer conditions.”
“All right.” He pursed his lips and slowly nodded. “I’ll tell you what. You pull out your files while I get you a cup of coffee. That should warm you up.”
Alex gaped at him as, without saying another word, he pivoted on his heel and stalked out of the room.
* * * *
Long, angry strides took Drake down the hallway to the small kitchen where they kept the coffeepot. He was being an asshat and he knew it, but damn it, the woman had fucking nerve wanting to explain now. If she’d tried that five years ago, maybe he wouldn’t be so pissed at her today.
He yanked open the cabinet, pulled out three mugs, and set them on the counter next to the coffeemaker. He didn’t know if Rhett wanted a cup or not and, frankly, he didn’t care. The man was getting one anyway.
Geezus, he hadn’t expected this overload of sensations and emotions. He’d sat at that conference table, agreeing with Cabelly’s decision to bring in the FBI right up until the moment the sheriff had said her name. Then, he’d done what he’d learned to do best over the years. He’d regulated his breathing, stiffened his spine, and started to pretend.
Yes, she was the one. It didn’t matter how often he’d tried to replace her or what he’d done to try to forget her, his heart still belonged to her. Could he work with her on this case? Yes, because he had to. But that was it. Every conversation he would have with her would be about the case. Absolutely nothing more.
He would keep his distance, too, he vowed as he poured the coffee into the first mug. Walking up to her the way he’d done back in the conference room had been a huge mistake. He’d gotten close enough to smell her, to feel the heat radiating from her sultry body, and, worse, close enough to really see the effect being alone in the room with him and Rhett was having on her.
He’d seen the regret swirling in her beautiful hazel eyes. He’d seen the apology and the plea for him to listen. It wouldn’t change anything if he did, so why bother? What was done was done. Maybe whatever she had to say would ease some of his anger, but it wouldn’t do a damn thing for the pain. He couldn’t let himself go there again. When the heartbreak came, and it inevitably would, it would be bad all over again. He refused to get caught in that tidal wave this time.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize he’d overflowed the mug until the coffee started spilling onto the counter. “Shit.” He slammed the coffeepot back on the warmer and turned to grab a towel, only to be conveniently handed one by John Cabelly.
Drake took the towel and wiped up the mess. “Where the hell did you come from?”
“The hallway, like everyone else does who walks into this room.” The sheriff turned his back to the countertop and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he studied Drake. “Anything I can do?”
Drake snagged the coffeepot again and poured the second cup, paying closer attention to the action this time. “You can give me the green light to add a double shot of whisky to this coffee.”
“Would that be your cup or the one you’re intending to pass off to Agent Sykes?”
Drake considered that as he poured the third cup and added two scoops of creamer. Though he’d meant it as a bad joke, it was good question. Sure, a little liquid courage would make walking back into that conference room with his temper intact a lot easier. On the other hand, spiking Alex’s coffee might make her shut up abo
ut the past. Except, he remembered the drunk Alex, the one who liked to be tied up and taken advantage of when he got a little booze in her.
No, stringing her up by her toes, as she’d suggested, had definitely not even crossed his mind. He’d walked right up to her and had damn near hit the door running when his already semi-hard cock had moved to a full-fledged hard-on in an instant. What he’d wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder and take her straight to the cottage he and Rhett shared. He wanted to handcuff her to a headboard, strip her naked, and nibble his way over every deliciously smooth inch of her creamy flesh until she begged him to fuck her and promised to never leave again.
Drake hooked his fingers through the handles on the mugs and started to turn. “I need to get back in there.”
“Yeah, you do,” Cabelly agreed. “And as for that double shot of whisky, why don’t the three of you move your talk of the investigation to Ménage à Drink in a bit so everyone gets a share. The drinks are always three for the price of one, you know?”
Drake hesitated and shot the man a look. “When did the Winterses add matchmaking to your list of Sheriff duties?”
Cabelly barked a laugh. “They didn’t. But it seems to me three people will have more success working as a team if they aren’t being cold to one another.”
“That’s what the coffee is for.” Drake toasted the man with the coffee mugs and headed back to the conference room. The sooner they found Lynette Cross’s killer, the sooner Alex would walk out of his and Rhett’s life again. Then things on the island could get back to normal.
* * * *
Rhett held back after Drake stormed out of the conference room. Alex had turned her back on him and, despite her stiff posture, he’d known she was struggling to keep it together. He’d seen the sheer astonishment on her freckled face, watched the pain slice through it, and hadn’t missed the glimmer of tears in her eyes just before she’d turned away. She was hurting, probably more than he realized, and seeing it, knowing it, twisted a band around his heart.
He was glad Drake had walked out when he did. His friend needed a few minutes to get his head straight and sort through the myriad emotions Rhett was certain were screaming through his mind, body, and heart. Maybe he would come to his senses while he was getting the coffee and realize what Rhett had already figured out. This was their chance to get their woman back and, this time, they wouldn’t let her go again.
Deciding he’d given her enough time to gather herself, Rhett got to his feet and walked to the end of the conference table. She must have heard him move, because she turned, her head bowed, and pulled her briefcase closer.
“We didn’t find out the sheriff had called in the FBI until a few minutes before you walked in.”
“I’m sorry if the two of you have a problem with the bureau working on this case, too,” she said stiffly, her movements jerky as she pulled several files from the briefcase.
“We don’t. You being the agent sent in was something else we didn’t find out until seconds before you came in here.”
She slammed the files on the table, flattened a hand on top of them, and leaned on that hand as she turned her head to look at him. “I found out about it yesterday. I was also informed of the deputies I would be working with. It’s not my fault your sheriff waited so long to pull you and Drake into the loop.”
“No, of course it isn’t. Alex, you’ve got to understand that seeing you again…” He shook his head. “Neither one of us had time to prepare ourselves for it before you were standing here.”
She made a raspberry sound with her lips, straightened, and opened the first file. “It’s probably better that way. Drake would’ve been even more pissed if he’d had time and the bureau denied his request to send a different agent.”
“He wouldn’t have done that.”
“Bullshit.” She pulled the top sheet out of the open file and Rhett saw it was a picture of a homely-looking strawberry blonde he’d never seen before. “Neither one of you wants me on this case, but you’re dealing with it because you haven’t been given a choice.” She stalked to the dry-erase board situated cattycorner against the wall near the head of the rectangular table and attached the photo of the girl next to the one of Lynette Cross that Drake had place on it shortly after the girl had been found. “And just so we’re clear,” she continued as she spun around and headed back toward him, “I’m not requesting a different assignment. I’m not backing down from this case. I came here to find a killer and I’m not leaving until his ass is behind bars.”
“We’re not asking you to turn down the assignment.”
“You’re not yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.”
Rhett shot a hand out, catching her by the forearm when she started to whirl away from him again. He heard her soft gasp at the contact and stifled a moan as the warmth of her flesh sizzled through his hand to rain fiery embers of remembered longing through his body.
“You chastised Drake for not being willing to listen, but you aren’t being so willing yourself right now.”
Her eyes briefly fluttered closed and her slender shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “You’re right. I’ve got one of you hitting me with every ice cycle he can pull out of apparently what has been a five year snowstorm and the other one talking to me like the last five years never happened. It’s disconcerting and, damn it, it’s knocking me off my game.”
Rhett felt his lips twitch at the sheer frustration in her tone. “The last five years did happen. I’d love to pretend they didn’t, but that would mean pretending you’ve been here between me and Drake all along instead of—”
“Walking out and not answering your phone calls like I did,” she finished when he abruptly broke off. “I had my reasons. Good reasons,” she added quickly. “If cock fart out there would’ve given me a chance, I would have told them to both of you.”
“Cock fart?” Rhett snickered.
Alex rolled her eyes. “The point is he’s obviously pissed.” She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she drew her brows together. “Why aren’t you?”
Rhett dragged his hand down her forearm to lace his fingers with hers, lifted her hand to his mouth, and brushed a kiss to her flesh. Needs zinged from his lips to his already stone-hard cock. “I never said I wasn’t. I dealt with the last five years differently than Drake and I have a different way of handling what’s happening now. That’s all.”
She pulled her hand from his, slid the top file off the pile, and opened the second. “What’s happening now is…” She frowned as she took out a different photo, this one of another strawberry blonde, but with a more polished appearance to her than the last woman. “We’re wasting time flapping our jaws.” She shot him a look and blew a breath up her face that caused her clipped-cut bangs to flutter before stalking back to the dry-erase board to put the second picture with the others. “Damn it, I hate admitting he’s right.”
Rhett chuckled and Drake chose that moment to walk back into the conference room. He hesitated in the doorway, his gaze moving from Alex to Rhett and back again. The man’s attention lingered on Alex’s back and Rhett watched Drake’s gaze did a slow slide to her feet.
For the first time since John Cabelly had dropped the Alex bomb on them, Rhett saw Drake’s expression soften, watched it fill with heat, and recognized the thinly veiled hunger, need, and love in his friend’s eyes. Then Alex turned, Drake blinked, and the man’s face cleared of all emotion. He kicked the door closed as he headed toward Rhett and set three coffee mugs on the table. He jerked his head toward the dry-erase board and pinned Alex with a blank stare.
“What can you tell us about them?”
Chapter Four
Alex returned to the files she’d stacked on the table, excruciatingly aware that Rhett and Drake had managed to position themselves at the end of the table where she had to step between them to get the remaining two photos. Every erogenous zone in her body stood at attention at the feel of her shoulders brushing against t
heir chests as she reached for the pictures of two victims. She noted the coffee cups Drake had set on the table, spotted one that was tan rather than black, and bit back a smile. Pissed or not, he still remembered how she liked her coffee and had been thoughtful enough to make hers that way.
She forced herself to look at him as she straightened, photos in one hand and the coffee mug in the other. She found the smile harder to let escape when her gaze collided with his. The intensity in his eyes told her far more than any words he’d said to her. He did care, he hadn’t gotten over her, and she’d hurt him really, really bad.
“Thank you.”
He gave her an infinitesimal nod. “Don’t mention it.”
Alex figured he probably meant that. As in, “Don’t mention that I remembered you take two scoops of cream in your coffee,” because that would be revealing too much, wouldn’t it?
She walked back to the dry-erase board and set her mug on the edge of the conference table as she attached photos four and five next to the others. Considering the order, she took a moment to rearrange the women, putting them in chronological order by the date of their discovery with Lynette Cross’s photo last. Turning, she picked up her mug, took a cautious sip, and began.
“Bella McDonald, Galveston.” She pointed at each girl’s picture as she said their names and the cities where their bodies had been discovered. “Abigale Brigdon, New Orleans. Patty Smart, Pensacola.”
“That’s why she looks familiar.” Realization rang in Rhett’s voice as he snagged one of the coffee mugs from the end of the table and walked to the dry-erase board. “The second one. You investigated her murder before you left the New Orleans PD.”
Safe and Deputized with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6
