by Kim Linwood
“Sir, what if I’m not?”
He holds his hand up. “Mocha. You know my order. Call it in on the way and you can be back here in time to apply a tourniquet if I get a mortal papercut from these zoning applications.”
I go, but I don’t like it. This assignment makes no sense. If he wanted protection, why doesn’t he seem nervous? And why the hell did they pick me? Even Payne seemed a little surprised when I told him what I was doing.
Not that I’m not qualified. I worked my ass off to get where I am, but nothing is going the way I expected it to.
I pull my hood tight around my face as I leave the building. Payne is nowhere to be seen, but it’s still early. Trish—yes, I’m on a first name basis with the cashier at Joe’s now—hands me my order with a smile, and five minutes later, I’m back in the warmth of the office.
Trabucco grabs the cup from my hand as he walks past me on the way out the door. “See you in the morning.”
As if I’m not going to be following him to the car. I’m a few steps behind when I spot Payne waiting by the sidewalk. The expression on his face grabs my attention right away. Or rather, the lack of expression.
Payne is perfectly still, watching Trabucco like a specimen under a microscope. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, but then Payne turns to me, and everything softens. A smile ghosts across his lips and he moves to the side, waiting for me as I escort the alderman out to the waiting car and let his personal staff take over responsibility.
My work is done.
I walk up to Payne. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to submit to a cavity search. You’re very suspicious and we can’t take any chances these days.”
He looks down at me, amused. “Are you going to take me someplace private, officer?”
“Nope, I figured I do it right here.”
“Ma’am, I have to say this is highly imp—”
I stretch up on my toes and grab the sides of his hat, dragging him down to my level. “Shut up and kiss me.”
He obliges, though our kiss is sadly chaste in comparison to last night. It still leaves my heart racing and my fingers itching to tear open his coat and get closer to the magnificence I know is underneath. We pull apart reluctantly, but I can’t exactly have my way with him right in front of City Hall.
“Do I pass inspection?” he asks, hands around my waist.
“For now. I don’t have any gloves on me so the rest will have to wait.”
Payne laughs and pulls me into a hug. “I’m not sure if I should be scared or turned on right now.”
I melt into him, happy to feel his broad chest against me as I snuggle into his wool coat. “God, I couldn't wait for him to finish up and get out of the office.”
“Rough day?” Payne looks over his shoulder, watching the alderman’s limo pull out into traffic. “Does he give you much trouble?”
The way he asks that reminds me of my father when he’d threaten to arrest my dates back in high school. I shake my head. “Nothing serious. He’s just annoying and a bit of a jerk. No need to defend my honor or anything.”
“Mmmm,” Payne hums in response, and I’m not sure if that means he agrees, or he’s putting it aside for future consideration.
“So, do you still want to go to Joe’s, or should I find us someplace further away from the office?” He points to a garage down the street. “We'll have to cross either way, but I'll protect you.”
I punch him in the chest, though he's so solid it's like hitting a wall. “I’ve gotten quite good at crossing this particular street, thank you very much. At least nine times out of ten without mishap.”
He laughs before he guides me towards the crosswalk, one arm behind my back. The wind slaps me in the face now that I'm no longer snuggling against him. “How about we stick with Plan A. It's cold out and I can just turn my back and pretend the office isn't right behind me.”
“Sounds good to me.”
We tumble into Joe's, and suddenly it’s quiet without the wind burning our ears. Payne approaches the counter. “I'd like a tall Americano and a Raspberry Mocha for the beautiful woman at my side.” He glances at me to make sure he's got my order right. “Soy and vanilla was it?”
Trish looks confused, and glances to me for confirmation.
I can’t help but laugh, and he narrows his gaze at me. “I’m sorry! I think it’s great you remembered all that, but it’s very much not my order.” I smile at Trish. “Peppermint hot chocolate, please.”
She nods and starts our orders.
Payne eyes me with a quirked eyebrow.
I shrug. “If you’d believe it, the raspberry mochas go to the alderman.”
“Really?” He laughs. “I actually find that a bit of a relief.”
The coffee and cocoa appear, and Trish winks. “Told you that you were lucky.”
Payne pays with a smirk while I roll my eyes, then we sit down and for the first time, just talk. It’s nice. We gab about all sorts of unimportant things, and I quickly forget about my lecherous boss and long day.
An unhealthy amount of sugar later, he walks me to my car.
“I had a really good time. You're fun when you're not blasting your music at one in the morning.”
“And you're much cuter when you're not chewing me out.” His lips curve into a mischievous grin. “Though that was pretty cute too. I can't think of any situation where you haven’t been cute, really.” He stops and cocks his head in thought. “Maybe when you were about to die.”
“That wasn’t even my fault! Besides, you've obviously never seen me when I get up.”
“Actually, I have. I thought the work boots were a nice compliment to the bedhead and the fuzzy bathrobe. But if that was an invitation, I’m more than willing to accept.”
“Nooooo.” I drag the word out, but I'm laughing. “This is only our second date, remember? And I’m only counting the first one because you saved my life so it seems unfair to get picky about it.”
His mouth spreads out into a sexy smile, and I start to think I’ve made a miscalculation somewhere. Payne steps closer and pulls off his gloves. The intent in his striking eyes makes my heart beat faster and my knees go weak.
“Second date. Second base.” He pulls open the zipper on my jacket.
“You can’t be serious. In here?” I look around, dismayed to find the garage almost empty now that all the offices are closed and most people have gone home. “There are cameras, and…” My voice trails off as his mouth finds my neck.
“Not this floor, not today.”
It disturbs me that he sounds serious about that, but I lose track of why when he nips my earlobe and his fingers find the buttons on the front of my shirt. The sounds of traffic and people walking around outside fade as Payne brushes against my bare skin.
God, why aren’t I pushing him away?
A big, callused hand slides into my bra and I moan in tortured relief at finally feeling his touch. His fingers pinch and roll my nipple, sending sparks everywhere, but mostly to the hot, wet spot between my legs. His leg pushes between mine, giving me a sample of what I really need.
“Is there going to be a third date?” he whispers into my ear.
I’m tempted to forget this isn’t our third date already, but all of my unanswered questions about him still outweigh my desire to find out how big my backseat really is. Barely.
“Do you want a third?”
“No.” Payne has me nearly pinned to my car. “I want the whole fucking thing.”
Oh, shit. So do I.
So bad.
And I don’t know if a night of explosive sex is going to be enough. He lets me go, but after a saying goodnight, he watches me until his face disappears behind the pillars as I pull down the ramp towards the exit.
As I drive home, the feel of his hands is still imprinted on my skin, and the need for him pounds between my legs. My phone flashes, and at a stoplight, I check the text that came in.
Same time tomorrow?
Yes, I resp
ond.
I have a date with my hand tonight, but I’ll be thinking of you.
Oh my God. Is he…?
And that little toy you left out in your bathroom? If that’s what you’re used to, I’m going to rock your fucking world. Sweet dreams, Adorable.
I left that out? Oh God. Between that thought and the idea of him… thinking of me, my face warms.
Good thing that little toy is all charged up.
12
Payne
“Is our business still scheduled as discussed?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to hold on to the last scrap of peace I had before this piece of mobster asshole intruded on my day. “Have I contacted you?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Then leave me alone and let me do my fucking job.”
“The boss is getting impatient. He doesn’t like to wait. Capisce?”
He’s seriously trying to lean on me? I’m sick of dealing with self-important underlings. They all seem to think they’re first in line to become the next Don, and they act like they already fucking are. The high payout lured me into this mess, but I’ve been regretting it ever since. “Tell your boss, if he wasn’t such a bridezilla about the details, I’d be done by now.”
“You shouldn’t talk that way about t—”
“Listen, you fucking toad,” I hit the gas and my Camaro leaps away from the intersection like it’s a starting line. “Either you need me or you don’t. If you want to do this yourself, tell me now and I’ll be happy to get the fuck out of your way.” Preferably without having to watch my back, but that might be asking too much.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Give you more time to spend with that cop.”
It doesn’t surprise me that they’ve been watching, but it does surprise me how pissed it makes me that Nora is on the radar of shitheads like this guy.
“All part of my plan. She’s useful to me.” My hand grips the wheel so hard my knuckles stand out bony white. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, and I won’t tell you how to do yours. Capisce?” I throw his word right back in his face. “Everything is under control.”
“It better be, or we’ll be in touch.” Fat Tony—as I’ve started thinking of him because of his ridiculously cliché mob goon act—hangs up before I can get the last word.
Asshole.
I can’t even slam the phone down thanks to the hands free system.
What a load of shit. Nothing has been under control since she showed up at my door that first night. And every time I see her, it gets a little worse. It hasn’t even been a week, and I’m as fucking eager as a virgin on prom night. Our coffee dates have become a regular thing, though she’s refusing to acknowledge them as real third, fourth or fifth dates.
Under control.
More like getting ready to blow.
But blue balls aside, everything is on track.
I pull into a garage close to Trabucco’s office, wincing at the prices. Good thing I’m getting paid a lot for this. I’m only mostly being sarcastic.
Nora’s expecting me in twenty minutes, which should give me just enough time to look around a little before she breaks for lunch.
Today I’ve got my camera out, and I’m taking shots. It’s the middle of the day, and people are hustling back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the massive square building. Having just emerged from the City Hall next door, a young couple stands in the middle of it, close together. Their faces are obscured, but they look like they’re kissing, and she’s clutching a tiny bouquet of flowers.
I tap him on the shoulder and they break apart with a laugh. “Was today the big day?”
“Yep, there’s no going back now.” The man puts his arm protectively around his new wife’s shoulders. She bumps him with her hip and huffs, but her smile gives her away.
“Mind if I take a picture?” I hold up my bulky pro-camera. “I can send you a copy later if you give me your email.”
He hesitates, but she lights up and nods. “Could you? That would be so great!”
I walk Marissa and Levi—as it turns out their names are—through a couple of poses, angled so Trabucco’s office is behind them. It works out for both of us. They get a nice set of shots commemorating their wedding day, and I get a few close ups of the front of the building. Just as I’m finishing up, a familiar figure appears behind the glass revolving doors.
Nora watches as Levi scribbles his email down onto a scrap of paper. I stuff it in my pocket, congratulate the happy couple, then say goodbye. When I get inside, she walks over and smiles up at me. “Hey.”
I shrug, swinging my camera behind me and leaning down to steal a quick kiss. As always, the heat of her soft lips warms me like I’ve just sat down next to a fire. I could blame it on the cold, but it’s more than that. She draws me like a moth to a flame. The closer I get, the more I want, but if I let this too far, we’re both going to get burned.
And yet, I can’t fucking help myself.
“Sorry, to keep you waiting. That took a little longer than I anticipated.”
“It’s fine. The alderman’s always running behind schedule anyway. Want me to give you the lightning tour?”
“Sure.” I’ve already studied the layout of the alderman’s office, but nothing beats actually looking around inside. Floor plans are great, right up until you find out someone plastered over the door you were intending to shoot through.
Nora walks me through the public parts of the building, and I dutifully stop and take a few shots as we go. “That was nice of you, taking pictures for that couple. Does it happen a lot? People asking you to take pictures when they find out you’re a photographer?”
“Not too often, no. Everyone has phones these days, and they’re too busy taking selfies to stop and ask.”
She snorts a laugh.
I give her a pointed look. “Not a selfie fan?”
Nora looks up at me with a wry grin. “I’m under twenty-five, so yeah, I’ve taken my fair share.”
I glance down at her, suddenly aware of how young and innocent she looks. Why do I feel like a dirty old man? “What are you, twenty-four?”
“Twenty-three!” she admonishes. “What are you? Thirty?”
“Twenty-eight!”
“Really?” She tilts her head and squints. “You sure?”
“Fuck off, squirt,” I grumble.
Five years, but it feels like fifty. She deserves better—and she’ll get it once I’m long gone—but I’m not so noble that I’ll pass up this chance to enjoy a slice of clean and normal before I throw myself back into the pit.
There are benefits to knowing security. She drags me straight past the checkpoint and the metal detector with a nod to the guy watching it. He nods back professionally, but don’t think for a moment I don’t notice how his eyes follow her ass as she walks by. It’s unfortunate that throwing a fist or two is frowned upon in public offices.
Her tour gets more interesting as she shows me where she’s working. The alderman’s at a lunch meeting, but I get to see where his new office is.
“This is it.” She gestures to a large room full of overly grandiose furniture, half of which is covered in painting tarps. “Not very impressive at the moment, unfortunately. They’re still renovating.”
Practice has my expression schooled to mild curiosity, while I commit every detail to memory. Every piece of furniture, and the angle of every window and door relative to his desk. “Does he usually go out for lunch?”
Nora opens her mouth but hesitates. “Sometimes.”
Good girl.
I redirect the questions to her. “But you get a lunch break every day at least? If say, someone happened to be interested in taking you out.”
“Yeah, otherwise I’d go nuts.” Her posture relaxes. “They send someone up from downstairs while I’m out.”
I walk to a window and look out over the dirty, grey street below. The other one has been reinforced already, but this wall isn’t finished yet,
and this window still lacks the extra layers of polycarbonate. Good to know. Just as it’s nice to see nobody has gotten around to connecting the wires to the camera pointed at the door.
“So…” Nora puts her hand on the doorknob, and I sense our tour is over. “Want to brave the cafeteria? I’d understand if you say no.” Nervous, she catches her lower lip between her teeth for a second. It makes me want to do the same. “They make a pretty mean pudding.”
I don’t give a fuck about pudding, but I can tell what I say right now is going to matter to her. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Every coffee, every lunch, every touch will make me that much more of a bastard when I ruin her career and get the hell out of town, and still?
“Butterscotch?” Like a moth to a flame.
“If we get there early enough.”
The happy little smile on her face cuts through my guts like a knife.
“Lead the way, officer.”
13
Nora
I reach out and slap at the noise on my nightstand, but no matter how many times I whack my alarm, it won’t stop. Finally my sleep-blurry eyes open far enough to focus, and I grab my phone.
Captain Palmieri? At seven o'clock on a Saturday?
“What's going on, Captain?” I stifle a yawn behind my hand.
“Still sleeping at this hour?” He tsks and I hold the phone away, showing it my middle finger. “Alderman’s got a meeting today and you’ve been requested.” Palmieri’s emphasis makes it sound like that pisses him off.
“It's my day off,” I mumble, still trying to wrap my brain around his words. Work? On Saturday morning?
“Yeah, you know what? It's mine too. This job happens when it happens, so get the fuck used to it.” He has a point, but it doesn’t make him less of a jerk. “He asked for you, so he gets you. Capisce?”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” I sit up and yawn, swinging my legs to the floor. At least I hadn't gotten around to telling my parents I'd be coming over today. Seems like that's not going to happen. “Where do I meet him?”
