by AJ Nuest
Uh-h-h…what was he doing? She ran her tongue along the front of her teeth. For him to be coming at her with his heart in his hands was almost worse than if he’d never apologized at all.
Casper Addison was a free agent. Heck, they’d only known each other a few days. He’d had one too many and made a bad call, right? Not killed someone or committed a felony.
“I screwed up, and I totally get it if you’d rather take a pass at the two of us spending any more time together.” He lowered his chin and she nearly sputtered. The guy was either every bit as sweet as his caramel latte skin or the best bull shitter she’d ever met. “If you need some time to think it over, I’ll be happy to step back from the case until you decide.”
The thing was, whether or not she believed him wasn’t the issue. Especially since, either way, she’d be smarter to act like she did. She tipped her head. Though there was definitely a part of her that really hoped he was telling the truth.
Huh. Maybe there was a little potential left in him, after all.
The sharp edge of a black suit jacket appeared in her peripheral vision. Thick arms crossed over a muscular chest. And no doubt owned by the same man whose persistent scowl heated the side of her face.
“Hey.” Stepping forward, she cupped Casper’s jaw and waited until he lifted his gaze to hers. “It’s not that big a deal. Of course, I still want your help with the case.”
Besides, it wasn’t like one thing had anything to do with the other. First and foremost, they were professionals. Up until something did or did not develop between them, Casper’s private life was his own.
“Glad to hear it.” He held her hand to his cheek, turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to the center of her palm. “So, you’ll save me a dance?”
“You bet.” She smiled. “Once dinner’s over, I’m all yours.”
Chapter 8
For the first time since Tanner had shown up like the living incarnation of Ben’s rawest sexual fantasies, the tension in his shoulders eased enough he could draw a clear breath through the persistent chokehold gripping his throat.
Lifting his champagne off the bar, he kept her centered in his sights, just off left in the middle of the dance floor, eyes sparkling as she grinned at a blushing Trey. It was downright bizarre how fast the kid shot up the past few months. Though from the way he held her in a stiff ballroom stance, he was still fighting a serious case of teenage awkwardness, staring at his feet as they swayed to the wedding band’s halfway decent rendition of The Things We Do for Love.
Ben dipped a quick nod. Good enough for now. He cut a hard glare toward the mile-long dessert station running the curve of the back curtain, tipping his champagne to his lips for a cool sip. In fact, if the call were his, Tanner would stay right where she was for the remainder of the reception.
Adder still stood beside Moira, smiling along with whatever she was whispering in his ear, and even though biting his tongue while that scene unfolded didn’t increase Ben’s comfort level any, at this stage in the game, he was happy to take whatever small advantage he could get.
All night, he’d been relegated to picketing the perimeter, maintaining his distance as Tanner moved from place to place on Adder’s arm. And every time the shithead touched her, it was all Ben could do to fight off the loud voice in his head that roared Mine!
A frustrated growl grated behind his breastbone, and he shifted uneasily against the bar.
The infuriating woman had everything so twisted around inside him, it was a wonder he could still tell which direction faced east.
Tanner wasn’t his and she never would be.
Cramming two fingers along his Adam’s apple, he jerked at his tie before slipping the tight button digging into his throat. After the agony his mistakes had brought him, he’d rather dive headfirst into a scorpion-filled pit than to ever go that route again.
Though that sure hadn’t stopped her from coming up with the perfect way to torment him, had it? Sticking close to the one person he’d warned her time and again could not be trusted. Acting as if she and Adder were a couple in front of everyone in the room. And the craziest part was, the more she succeeded in pissing him off, the more Ben found her all that much harder to resist.
Good Christ Almighty. Dealing with women should be the first item listed in the Black Ops Handbook under the chapter on Successful Torture Techniques. Yes, the effect she had on him made him angry. And yes, the way he’d reacted when he’d first laid eyes on her wasn’t her fault it was his.
But that glimmer of expectation he’d found in her gaze wasn’t something he could afford to mess with, and if she wanted him to work Trey’s case with a clear head then, goddamn it, neither could she.
Tanner Jones made him think of things.
She lifted Trey’s hand over his head and the kid rolled his eyes before ducking under her arm.
Things Ben had spent five long years trying to forget.
Straightening her elbows, she pushed Trey back a step and then brought them together in a swinging dance.
Yet one look at her, and it was all he could do not to remember. Not to lose himself in the muck of self-pity and regret. Even as he stood here and the last of his willpower trickled like water through his fingers, and he struggled over how fucking nice it had been for the two of them to connect.
Tossing her head with a laugh, Tanner whirled Trey in a clumsy spin, and Ben’s gaze fell to the feminine curve of her bare lower back.
Jesus, an entire article within the Chicago City Code of Laws & Ordinances could’ve been dedicated to that dress. Returning his glass to his lips, he doused the arid desert riding the back of his throat. The way it gloved every inch of her, inciting a riot in his imagination. Those goddamned red heels making him hard whenever she crossed the room.
Instead of going with the same bright red lipstick that reminded him of a circus clown on every other bridesmaid, she’d blanked out her lips with a color that was closer to her natural skin tone.
He shouldn’t have even noticed, but it distracted him. Gave him ideas that served no purpose rambling around inside his head. Ever since she’d caught his eye outside the ballroom, the only thing he could think about was taking a rough swipe of his thumb over her mouth.
A layer of heavy shadow coated her eyelids—something else that never should’ve snagged his attention. But rather than coming off as too much, the end result had darkened her blueberry irises to near black.
The effect made them mysterious. Glitter in the low light like two razor-sharp bits of glass. And did a fine job of turning the rest of her into nothing but a long slim column of red.
Like a jeweled dagger.
Arousal tightened his body at the thought of messing her up. Fisting the bow at her nape so he could peel off that dress and discover what, if anything, she wore underneath.
Dressed that way, she was exquisite. Refined. Dangerous as all hell with attempted murder in her eyes whenever she accidentally glanced in his direction.
At another time, in another place, he wouldn’t have wasted a split second accepting that wicked challenge in her gaze. His dick thickened and pulsed along his thigh in preparation to make good on that threat, and he filled his lungs to expel a slow, agonizing breath.
She’d gotten to him. Bad. In a way that had him second-guessing every hard and fast rule he’d ever made.
Draining the last of his champagne, he set the empty glass on the bar. Fuck, if she wasn’t the most intoxicating thing he’d ever seen.
Movement snagged the corner of his eye, and in a moment that was scarcer than every drug dealer in the metropolitan area strolling into the precinct to confess their crimes, Kelly left Eden’s side and approached the bar.
“Hey, Buddy.” He slapped Ben’s back and pivoted toward the dance floor. “Couldn’t help but notice you seem to be keeping to yourself this weekend. Care to share what’s on your mind?”
Sparing a quick glance at his best friend, Ben cocked a brow. Though he hadn’t been look
ing forward to this conversation, he wasn’t dumb enough to believe it would never happen, either. Kelly was too sharp to have missed how Ben had mentally checked out. Hell, his knack for reading people was what made Kelly Riordan the best damn homicide detective in the city.
The flip side was, he wasn’t the only one who’d topped out as the frontrunner in his profession, and after a thorough mull over his options, Ben was confident he’d prepped a decent enough excuse he wouldn’t be forced to lie directly to Kelly’s face.
“It’s this latest case D’Avella handed me.” He worked one shoulder in a shrug. “You know how it is. Sometimes the details crawl under your skin and refuse to let go.”
“Shit, sorry to hear that.” Kelly raked his long hair off his brow. “Anything I can do to help?”
The music ended and scattered applause came from near the stage. The same weary tension Ben had been shouldering like twenty pounds of extra ammo crept into his neck, and he darted a frown from Tanner to Adder and back.
Muted conversations floated through the sudden quiet as Ben waited for either of them to make a move.
Laughter. The pop of a cork. A singing chime of fine crystal.
Rearranging themselves on the stage, the band members swapped out their guitars and strummed the beginning chords of Maroon 5’s Daylight before the guy heading up the song stepped in front of the mic.
Whooping in excitement, Trey and Tanner threw their hands in the air and resumed their dance. From across the room, Adder’s gaze narrowed and shifted from the two of them to Ben.
He grunted. Vaheed Shahzar or not, the guy was a gigantic asshat. Ben squinted as the hint of a smile curved one corner of Adder’s lips. And what in the hell was that silent message supposed to mean?
He shot another frown at the dance floor and, without any warning, recognition slammed into his gut so hard, his lungs seized. The aged photo Molly had given him swam before his eyes, and Ben clamped down hard on his knee-jerk response to sprint for the center of the room.
Goddamn it, no. That couldn’t be right. He stole another peek at Adder before refocusing on Tanner and Trey. Holy shit. That lying, lowlife, two-faced son of a bitch.
“She’s beautiful, Ben.”
He flinched and swung a dark scowl toward Kelly, scrambling to come up with the right thing to say. Jesus, if Ben’s instincts were right and his best friend picked up on his discomfort, the entire night could easily take a flaming dive straight into the crapper. A desperate growl threatened to tear through his chest, and he gritted his teeth to contain it. Besides that, hauling Adder in with nothing more than a ten-year-old computer-generated picture as evidence wouldn’t convict him of a goddamn thing.
Thank Christ, he’d kept his mouth shut. And the same held true when it came to how Eden and Kelly had kept their honeymoon destination a secret. A quick search of the room to make sure she was secure, and Ben answered Kelly with a tight nod. Only a few short hours and they’d be outside Adder’s reach. “Your new wife makes a lovely bride.”
Goddamn it, how could he have missed the resemblance? Ben peeked at Adder from under his brows. That greasy snake had been one step ahead ever since he’d shown up at Smith manor.
But not anymore. The second Ben was able, he was taking Molly off every other case on her desk and asking her to track down every last detail involving Valentina Fernández.
Kelly’s low chuckle came off as don’t be dumb. “You’ll get no argument from me, but I wasn’t talking about Eden.”
Oh, for Christ’s sake. Sweat beaded and trickled down Ben’s back even as he swiped his hand down his face. He already had enough confusing shit shoving around inside his head. The last thing he needed was Kelly busting his chops about Tanner. “You’ve lost your damn mind.”
“I just willingly got married and there wasn’t a single firearm involved.” Kelly raised a shrewd brow. “Trust me, you’re not the only one questioning my sanity. But also I think it’s time we face facts, Buddy.” He smirked. “I hate to break it to ya, but Tanner’s got you by the balls.”
Irritation fired across every synapse in Ben’s brain, and he resisted the urge to seize Kelly by his crisp, black lapels and lay him out flat. Now was not the time or place. “This habit you got of throwing my words back in my face makes me want to punch your lights out.”
Kelly snorted. “As if that would ever happen.”
And yet Ben couldn’t deny, if he wanted to exploit the small break he’d gotten in the case, this conversation just might provide the exact distraction he needed to keep Kelly off track.
Jesus, he hated all this scheming. Hated the way he’d been left no choice but to constantly twist the facts. Crossing his arms, Ben studied his best friend past the edge of his lowered lashes. But if Kelly already assumed he’d been off his game because of Tanner, there was no doubt capitalizing on that misdirection would be Ben’s best tack…regardless of how close to the truth Kelly might be.
“You’re seeing ghosts, Riordan. I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone, much less a woman who’s so…” Shit, what was the word?
Frustrating? Argumentative just to piss him off?
A harsh breath scraped the back of Ben’s throat. “Difficult.”
“Okay.” Bottom lip jutting forward, Kelly nodded as if he agreed, and yet something about the way he scratched the side of his nose told Ben he would’ve been smart to strap on a Kevlar vest under his suit. “But doesn’t that logic seem a little backward to you? I mean, if she’s easy, chances are good she won’t be amazing. And if she’s amazing, I’m here to tell ya, she damn sure isn’t gonna be easy.”
A slow blink, and Ben kept his face deadpan, even though he had to grudgingly admit Kelly had a point. Of the few women he’d ever gotten close to—his mother and sister, Felicity before he’d said too much and she’d followed him straight into the bowels of hell—none of them had been anywhere close to what Ben would’ve described as laid-back.
Each of them had been gifted with an inner strength, were beyond complicated. When pressed, they’d each had a stubborn, aggravating streak they’d exercised in their own special way.
And he’d loved all three of those women hard and fierce right up ʼtil the end. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that? Some days, I hate your guts.”
Kelly’s brow twitched. “I love you too, man. In the most non-bromantic sorta way.” He slanted his head toward the stage. “But in case you’re still on the fence, looks to me like its time you made a decision.”
Ben snapped his eyes toward the dance floor and rage tore through his midsection like the rapid-fire spray off a Parabellum submachine gun. No. Fingers clenching, he lowered his fists to his sides. Goddamn it, he’d moved his eyes off of Tanner for two seconds and that viper had moved in to strike.
Twirling her around the dance floor, Adder kept his palm centered on her bare lower back, but his hands didn’t belong anywhere within a hundred klicks of her body. There was no fucking way.
Locking his knees, Ben drew a deep breath against the driving impulse to march across the floor and snap the fucker’s knuckles one after the next. That maggot wouldn’t know the truth if it walked up beside him and cracked him across the jaw with a set of brass knuckles.
The music altered to a slower tempo, and Adder tugged her close. Easing his cheek down to hers, he whispered something in her ear. Jesus, Ben would’ve loved to get him alone and beat a confession out of him, connect the dots and confirm his suspicions without a shadow of a doubt. But until that time came, there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could do.
No, dammit. Why did he always find himself trapped in his position? For Christ’s sake, what had happened to his solitary, contained, a-place-for-everything-and-everything-in-its-place life?
“Exactly how much time did you think you had?” Slipping his hands in his pants pockets, Kelly rocked forward on his feet. “Any man here can see Tanner’s a complete knock-out. Even me, Ben. She’s smart, driven, trust worthy. Anyone wh
o’s ever met her can tell she’s got a good heart.” He shrugged. “I guess the only question left is who gets to be the lucky guy.”
Dammit.
Dropping his chin to his chest, Ben gritted his teeth. But that wasn’t even the worst of it, and he jammed his thumb and index finger into his eye sockets to scrub the image of Adder’s lap dance from his mind.
Whatever excuses he’d fed her, whatever lame explanations he’d come up with to justify what he’d done, Tanner had believed every last word. Ben had witnessed the way she’d smiled and held Adder’s face after the ceremony with his own two eyes.
All while he stood on the sidelines. Nothing to say for himself. Too bound up in past hurts to protect her from a threat that was less than ten feet away.
“Well, Eden and I are probably gonna take off soon.” Another slap to the back of Ben’s shoulder, and he lifted his head as Kelly smiled. “Thanks for being my best man. Have a good night, Buddy.”
Good night, his ass. Ben aimed a squint at Kelly as he turned and strolled across the room toward Eden. More like, the guy had dedicated the past few months to a crash course in how to manipulate people, compliments of his scheming, revenge-for-hire wife.
Ben shifted his gaze back to Tanner, his blood heating to the point of boiling in his veins. Adder swayed her to the music as his thumb stroked a slow path across her spine.
Enough. Shoving away from the bar, Ben closed the distance in a few long strides. He was done playing the silent protector while this bullshit unfolded. He may fall well outside the range of what Tanner deserved, but when it came to her, he was the lesser of two evils by a margin that rivaled the Cumberland Gap.
Rapping a hard finger on Adder’s shoulder, Ben waited for him to turn around. Their footsteps halted, and a frown drew Tanner’s brows together as Ben jerked his head toward the dessert table. “Walk it off.”
