GetOn

by Regina Cole

  “Thanks,” Garrett said quietly before he turned to leave the room.

  Trent just laughed. “Get out of here.”

  But as Garrett hurried down the stairs, he wasn’t quite prepared for the look that Mia launched at him.

  She stood by the bottom step, one hand on the railing while the other was planted firmly on the flare of her hip. Her clothes were wrinkled and dusty from the warehouse, her hair was wilder than ever and her green eyes sized him up.

  “Please let me out. I’m not interested in another argument with you.”

  “I don’t want to fight either,” Garret said matter-of-factly as he took her hand and led her over to the bike. “That’s why it’ll be a lot easier if you just shut up and get on my bike.”

  She yanked her hand free of his grip. “I’m fine. I can get back on my own. You have shit to take care of—”

  “And part of that shit is you, so come on and let me do this.” Garrett swung his leg over the bike, but Mia flew around and planted her hands on the handlebars before he could roll the machine forward.

  “I’m shit now, is that what you’re saying?”

  Garret ran his hand over his close-cropped hair in annoyance. “Jesus Christ, Mia, that wasn’t what I meant and you know it. Listen, there’s nothing else we can do tonight. The rest of the guys are going home and they’ll follow up leads tomorrow. So I’m at a loose end, and I’d like to take you back. If you remember, I promised to do that, so I’d really appreciate it if you let me keep my promise.”

  She stared at him hard for a moment and he stared right back. Her chest was heaving with temper, her perfect brows narrowed in a scowl. But after a moment, she relented, stepping off and coming around to the side of the bike. “You’d better not be lying to me.”

  Garrett cranked the engine as she settled in behind him. “I don’t need to lie to you.” He glanced over his right shoulder and gave Trent a tight nod. His friend had come down the stairs while he and Mia were having their “discussion”.

  “Take care, man,” Trent said as he punched the button for the door.

  “You too.” Garrett rolled down the ramp and Mia’s arms tightened around his middle. The engine roared as Garrett accelerated, shooting down the narrow street as if he were racing the devil. Mia squealed and he let off the gas instantly, hoping he hadn’t scared her. But then her delighted laugh rained down on him and he grinned.

  He should have known she’d like it fast and furious. She did everything else, so why not this?

  They moved way too fast through the streets, Garrett opening it up on every straightaway, just to feel Mia’s excitement, hear that wonderful laugh. He was almost disappointed when they finally arrived downtown at the Sheraton.

  As he braked beneath the portico, Mia leaned closer to his ear.

  “Why don’t you park? Come up for a minute?”

  Shit, she wasn’t supposed to say that. Garrett’s hands tightened on the grips. A fast, clean break. She should wave as she went into the hotel and not look back. She’d be safe as long as she stayed away from him.

  “Come on, biker boy. You said you were free tonight, and you have to be as hungry as I am. Let’s get some dinner.” She poked him in the ribs playfully.

  “Dammit,” Garrett muttered to himself, way too quietly for her to hear over the idling engine. He rolled the machine forward, maneuvering it deftly into the parking deck.

  This was a bad idea. A really bad idea. He didn’t need to get involved with her any more than he already was. Trent had been right; he did like her. He shouldn’t, but he did. He should leave now, put some distance between them. But he was going to go have dinner with her anyway.

  Fucking idiot.

  Chapter Eight

  When Garrett cut the engine, he waited for her to dismount. She slid off the back of the bike, only his broad hands keeping her from stumbling on the pavement.

  “Sorry,” she laughed as she straightened. “I think it’s all the adrenaline. We were going pretty fast.”

  His grin flashed quickly. “You seemed to like it.”

  Mia nodded. “Felt like I was in a movie. You’re a good driver, you know.”

  He shrugged one shoulder as he swung his leg over the seat. “Thanks.”

  They walked side by side to the stairwell. Mia thought about reaching over and grabbing his hand, but she didn’t. Not now. He’d agreed to dinner with her only by the smallest margin, she could tell, and she didn’t want to scare him off.

  “There’s a nice little Italian restaurant across the street from the hotel.” Her words echoed off the painted cinderblocks of the stairwell. She avoided a crumpled fast-food bag on the landing, ducking behind Garrett to keep her shoes free of the splattered ketchup. “I ate there the other night, it was pretty good.”

  He pushed open the door, holding it to let her go through first. She glanced up at him as she passed. His eyes were wary, almost shuttered. Damn it, she was losing him. “Or we could just go up to my room, order room service?”

  The door fell shut behind them, the loud clunk almost making her jump.

  “The Italian place is fine,” Garrett said, moving toward the curb. The darkness had fallen around them, bugs fluttering around the streetlights.

  Mia started to turn the corner, heading for the hotel’s front entrance. “Cool. I just need to run up to my room, grab my purse.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I got this.”

  She stopped, turning to face him. “Are you sure? I mean, I asked you, so I really don’t mind—”

  “For god’s sake, Mia, just come on and let me buy you dinner.” He held out his hand to her.

  She crooked a smile, something in her insides becoming warm and fluttery. Even exasperated, he was cute. “Fine then. I’m ordering dessert, you’ve been warned.”

  He laughed, and for a moment she could have sworn it was the most wonderful sound she’d ever heard. She grabbed the hand he offered and, fingers laced together, they ran across the street, both laughing as a taxi driver honked his horn and cursed at them.

  Mia led Garrett past the dry cleaners, a convenient mart and an office, finally stopping in front of La Bella Italia. He opened the door for her again, and she grinned. She’d never been with a guy who could be considered a gentleman. She’d opened her own doors forever, but this was nice. Even though he was stubborn, and sometimes a pain in the ass, Garrett was definitely classy.

  “Two,” she said in response to the hostess’s question.

  “Somewhere private,” Garrett said, then looked down at her. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  She shook her head and they followed the short-skirted hostess through the tables. Laughter and conversation mixed with soft jazz, the sounds fading slightly as they arrived in the back corner of the restaurant. The curved booth was partially shielded from the rest of the tables by a large potted plant.

  “Is this okay?” The waitress indicated the table.

  “Perfect.” Mia smiled as she slid into the booth. Garrett folded into the other side, his long legs almost not fitting under the short table. The hostess gave them each a menu, and with a promise that their server would be right over, disappeared.

  And they were alone. Mia glanced over at Garrett. He was close, but not as close as she wanted him to be. His gaze was trained on the menu, but his knee was bouncing as if he was agitated.

  “You okay?”

  He nodded without looking over at her. “Fine.”

  Mia bit her lip as she flopped open her own menu. The pasta primavera had been great the other night, so she didn’t even need to look over the plastic-coated pages. But it gave her something to focus on while she tried to figure out what was happening here.

  Why had she asked him out? And, even more important, why had he said yes?

  Their server appeared, a young guy with peroxide-blond hair and an easy laugh. Garrett ordered a bottle of wine and they placed their food order. Once they were alone again, Mia made up her mind. Damn it all to hel
l, she was going to learn more about this guy.

  “So you used to be a cop, huh?” She toyed with the sweaty stem of her water goblet.

  “Yes,” he said, drumming his fingertips on the tablecloth. “For seven years.”

  “So what do you do now?”

  He looked over at her then, and she fought to keep still. “Private investigation, mostly. I do contract work. It gives me time to, well, you know.”

  “Right.” Mia dried her fingers on the napkin in her lap, glad her hair fell forward so he couldn’t see her blush. “Find the guy.”

  “What about you?” Garrett said quickly. She couldn’t blame him for the subject change, but she wished he’d picked a different one. “I know you’re a piercer, but I don’t really know anything else about you.”

  Mia sighed. Well, she’d started this, so she might as well see it through. “I’m from south Texas, originally. My grandmother basically raised me because my mom was too busy with drugs and different boyfriends. My dad had cancer and died when I was pretty young. Mom moved back to Mexico when I was twelve. When Abuela died, I decided there wasn’t anything left for me in Texas. So I’ve been traveling for the past two years.” Mia laughed, a little sadly. “I’ve had eight jobs during that time. Most of them piercing, but some of them, well, let’s just say the phrase ‘do you want fries with that?’ figured pretty heavily in a couple.”

  Garrett reached over and threaded his fingers through hers. “No shame in working for a living, Mia.”

  “I know.” She leaned her head back against the booth and stared at the ceiling. “I was in Arkansas for about a month. Louisiana for three. Before coming here, that was the longest I’d stayed anywhere.”

  His thumb began making lazy circles over her knuckles. “You really miss her, don’t you?”

  Tears sprang to her eyes at the question. “Of course I do. Abuela was my world. When my mom ran off, she was there. When my dad died, she was there. When I got in trouble, she would scream at me then we’d hug one another and cry for hours. She was my rock.” Mia dashed the tears away with her free hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just…sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing,” Garrett said as he slid around the booth. Mia melted into him as he wrapped his arms around her. “I understand. And it’s okay.”

  Mia snuggled into his chest, dragging a deep breath in through her nose. He smelled so good, and his broad hands felt amazing as they rubbed her back comfortingly. She could definitely get used to being held by Garrett.

  “Was it like this for you?” The question came without thought, but she was kind of glad it had. “When you lost her?”

  Garrett’s lips pressed against her hair.

  “Not really.”

  Damn it, those words were supposed to stay inside his head. He sighed, the breeze of his breath ruffling her curls.

  “Will you tell me?” Her words were muffled against his chest.

  He raised his head, half-hoping the waiter would appear and let him off the hook. No such luck.

  It wasn’t any of her business how he’d felt when Priscilla died, was it? She sniffed then, and he became painfully aware of the spot of wetness on his shirt. She’d laid her heart bare to him. The least he could do was show his scars too.

  The song changed then, Frankie Blue Eyes claiming he had the world on a string. With the cheerful tune as subtle background, Garrett spoke.

  “We’d been living together for about eight months,” he said, toying with one of Mia’s nearly black curls. “Her name was Priscilla Hughes. She said she loved me, and I was working up the nerve to say it too. But I wasn’t sure.” His lids slid closed as the story turned darker. “Anyway, I had worked undercover on this huge drug bust. Of course, it was Ford. There was a lot of news coverage on the story and someone let my name slip. Ford didn’t miss it. He tracked me down…” Garrett’s throat went tight, but he held Mia close and continued. “But he found Priscilla first. He had her killed.”

  “Oh my god,” Mia said, her words full of shock. She pulled back to look at him, her green eyes sad. “That’s awful.”

  “It was my fault,” Garrett shrugged one shoulder. “I should have been more careful. The leak wouldn’t have happened if—”

  “How is it your fault someone couldn’t keep their trap shut? God, Garrett, you aren’t responsible for this. I hope they fired the fucker—no, I hope they beat the shit out of him.” Mia’s small hands curled into fists, and her chin tilted up stubbornly.

  “The leak in the department was taken care of,” Garrett soothed, sparing a thought for the new secretary who had been fired immediately. Her fifteen seconds of fame related to such a talked-about case hadn’t lasted. “But I sort of… Well, I kinda went off the rails.” The admission cost him, and he moved over, putting a bit of distance between him and Mia. “Ford’s father got all the drug charges against his son dropped. There wasn’t any proof to connect him to Priscilla’s death. The hit man who’d pulled the trigger was found shot in the head three weeks later. I know it was Ford.” Garrett’s fist landed on the white tablecloth, making the silverware jump.

  “I know,” Mia soothed, rubbing his tense shoulder. “It’s okay, Garrett. You don’t have to say anything else.”

  “Let me get this out, okay?” He glanced over at her. The dim lighting of the restaurant made her olive skin look luminescent.

  She nodded.

  “I started gunning for Ford while I was still on the force. But my superiors didn’t exactly see things my way. I was let go a few months after Priscilla died.” He stared at the table in front of them. “Her murderer got away, Mia. I’ve been trying so damn hard to make him pay. If I’m ever able to see this through, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself afterward.”

  Mia’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he turned to face her. Her eyes were wide, mouth soft as she pulled him down to her.

  He groaned against her lips as she kissed him, tasting of the sweet wine he’d almost forgotten he’d ordered. Her tongue darted between his lips, soft caresses stirring his blood. His hand rubbed down her back, cupping her ass gently as he let his mouth explore hers.

  Too soon, he forced himself to raise his head. “We should probably stop, or that waiter might get a show when he brings our dinner.”

  Mia grinned and winked at him. “You might be right.”

  He’d managed to steer the conversation into a lighter place by the time the food arrived. He hadn’t realized exactly how hungry he was until the large plate of pasta landed in front of him. Mia had been right, the food was good. Though he couldn’t help but think it might have been because of the company.

  She laughed at his jokes, throwing a couple of her own in there for good measure. They compared favorite music and movies, and he was strangely gratified to discover the similarities between them. By the time the giant slab of chocolate cake Mia ordered had arrived, he was dreading leaving the restaurant.

  “I don’t know why they brought two forks,” Mia said, carefully detaching a hunk of chocolate icing from the top of the cake. “Nobody’s touching my dessert.”

  Garrett snorted, then reached over and snagged the second fork. “Oh really?”

  “Back off, biker boy,” she snarled playfully, a dot of chocolate on her lower lip. “If you wanted some, you should have ordered it yourself.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to make do with your leftovers,” he sighed sadly, then leaned in to lick the chocolate off her lip. The sweetness exploded on his tongue, almost as delicious as her gasp of shock at his action. But not quite. She kissed him quick, hard and rough. He wrapped his arm around her, making sure his mouth and tongue kept up their passionate assault. But the fork in his other hand snaked around her, aiming straight for the cake.

  Just then she moaned, a soft, plaintive sound that wrapped around his cock and yanked. He nearly dropped the fork.

  She pulled her mouth away, breathing heavily. “Don’t you fucking dare,” she said, just before poking his hand with
her own fork.

  “Ouch,” he yelped, rubbing the sore spot. “What was that for?”

  “Attempted kiss-terfuge. Not fair.” She ate another bite of cake. “If you’d asked nicely, you might have gotten a bite. You should know stealing is bad, copper.”

  Garrett snorted a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right.” He pinned on an exaggerated puppy-dog-pitiful expression. “May I please have a bite of your cake?”

  She flipped the fork over, sucking on the tines as she pulled it from her lips. “That depends. It’s not free, you know. If you get a bite of cake, you have to come up to my room after.”

  He thought about it for about three seconds before snatching the plate from her and forking a giant bite of dessert into his mouth.

  “I get to have my cake and eat you too? You’re on.”

  Chapter Nine

  She wasn’t sure why she was nervous as she led him down the plush-carpeted hallway to her hotel room. It wasn’t even on the same floor as Jules’ and Matt’s rooms, so there was almost zero chance she’d run into someone she knew. And even if I did, she glanced backward at the tall, muscled man following her, he’s someone to be proud of.

  So why was her heart trying to break through her rib cage?

  Fumbling in her pocket for the plastic keycard, Mia dragged a deep breath into her too-small lungs.

  “You okay?” The husky rumble behind her didn’t help.

  “Sure,” she squeaked, her fingers fumbling on the card. “Yeah, totally fine.” The card finally slipped into the slot, the little green light on the lock flashing as it beeped. Mia turned the knob and shoved the door open.

  “I’m going to run to the restroom, okay? Just,” she kicked a pair of panties into the corner, cursing the way she’d stumbled drunk into bed the last night she’d been here, “make yourself comfy.”