by Ashlyn Chase
“I, um…”
She bit her lip and he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Can we try again, Brandee?”
“I guess. I just need you to swear you’ll be less possessive and never do anything like that again. Entering my apartment uninvited, I mean.”
Hallelujah! She forgives me. “I so swear.”
She nodded. “Okay. Can I get you something?”
“Yes, you can.” He rose and pulled her against his chest before she could protest. He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly. She seemed to melt into him. He wanted to howl with joy and relief, but he held himself in check.
The sound of someone clearing his throat nearby interrupted Nick’s internal celebration. He reluctantly broke the kiss and gazed over to find Captain Hunter, dressed in blue jeans and T-shirt, sporting a subtle smile. He seemed more amused than annoyed.
“Oh, uh, Ca—I mean, Hunter. I was just…”
Hunter grinned. “No explanation necessary. Is this still a good time to meet?”
“Yeah. Brandee, honey, would you please get me a cup of coffee and anything my friend wants?”
“Coffee for me too, please. Black.”
“Sure thing.”
Brandee sauntered back to the bar while Nick admired the swing of her hips.
“Damn, she’s fine,” Hunter muttered.
“And she’s mine,” Nick countered as he retook his seat.
“Hey, I wasn’t talking about poaching on your territory. Is it serious?” His old captain settled into the booth opposite him.
“My mate. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
If Hunter wasn’t one of the werewolves among Boston’s finest, he wouldn’t have put it that way. Fortunately the captain knew exactly what Nick meant.
“No kiddin’? That’s great. From the look of things, you’ll be marking her in no time.”
Nick smiled. Even though he knew they were a long way from that, the thought warmed him.
And then Hunter brought him back to the present. “Getting down to business…”
“Yeah. The bank robberies. I think I know what you’re dealing with. A vamp.”
“That’s what we thought, but I wanted your opinion—and your help.”
“It won’t be an easy sting.”
“That’s why I called you in.”
“I can’t capture this bastard by myself,” Nick said. “We don’t know which bank will be hit next, so they’ll have to be covered simultaneously.”
“Shit. That won’t be easy.”
“It looks to me like we’re dealing with a savvy vampire. This guy knows exactly when the vaults will be opened, so he gets in and out right around the employees without being detected.”
The captain scratched his head. “Okay. But why bother? He could only take what he can grab without slowing down.”
“I think it’s less about the money and more about the mayhem. Someone is either showing off or possibly trying to make a fool of the department. Do you know of a disgruntled vampire?”
The captain snorted. “Isn’t that the definition of a bloodsucker? They’re all peeved about something.”
Nick hated the prejudice he heard among his kind, especially toward vampires. The whole purpose behind this bar was to dispel the stereotypes.
“No matter what the motive is, you hired me to help you put a stop to it.”
“What do you propose?”
“The vampire, or whoever, seems to be taking advantage of precise timing—not only when the vault opens, but the front door as well. I’m betting the perp is hanging around outside during the time the vaults are supposed to open, then zooms into the lobby as soon as a customer opens the door.”
“But what about getting out? They’d have to wait until someone exits or it would look like the door opened by itself.”
“Exactly. I assume the vamp can’t slow down, but has to run around and around until the outside door opens again. No one can keep that up for long.”
“Bizarre theory.”
“But it could work.”
“What are you saying? That we should lock down all the banks after the vaults have been opened and closed?”
“That’s one way.”
“But for how long? And what do we tell the public? ‘Oh, sorry. You all have to sit tight for fifteen minutes while we wait for an invisible thief to materialize’?”
“There’s another way.”
“I’m listening.”
“Cameras outside, covering every angle. If he’s hanging around out there, then suddenly disappears, and a few seconds later materializes again…”
“Then we get a picture of the perpetrator.”
“How do we know how large a distance to cover?”
“That’s where it comes in handy to know a friendly vampire or two. Someone who can do a dry run for us.”
Captain Hunter straightened. “Are you saying you know someone besides the vamp that owns this place? I can’t imagine a bar owner who’s trying to unite the factions wanting to get involved in a sting like this.”
Nick shrugged. “I might know of someone else.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not talking about the owner’s psycho girlfriend, are you?”
Nick let out a booming laugh. The bar’s few early patrons turned their way. He waited until they had gone back to their own conversations and spoke in a low voice. “No. This is someone you’ve probably never heard of.”
“But don’t they all cover for each other?”
“Not this guy. He and his wife are virtually unknown to the vampire community, and they’d like to keep it that way.”
“I suppose it could work. Can you contact him and set up these dry runs at every bank in the area?”
“I can ask.”
“Good. How long do you need?”
“Give me a week. How about compensation? Is the insurance company offering any?”
“I’ll ask. Meanwhile, don’t offer. Maybe your vampire will be a good citizen and do it for free.”
“Ha. We can always dream.”
“How about the other case? Are you any closer to discovering who hired the thugs to kidnap the mayor’s stepdaughter?”
“Nothing yet. It would help if I could look at some mug shots from New York. I, uh, recognized their accents.” Nick had agreed not to tell anyone about Anthony’s involvement.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Great.”
“Thanks for your good work on both cases, Nick.”
“Don’t thank me yet. All I have are theories.”
“Damn good ones. More than anyone else has been able to come up with. If this one pans out, the chief will be glad we kept you as an important contact.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“You’d better hope it does. That’s a lot of costly equipment and man-hours, Nick.”
After the captain left, Nick finished his coffee and waved Brandee over.
“Another coffee?” she offered.
He rose and fished his wallet from his back pocket. “No. I have a couple leads to follow up on. When do you get off—and can I help with that?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Brandee rolled her eyes. “That was so bad, I’m tempted to pretend I didn’t know what you meant.”
“But you did.” He grinned.
“What makes you think I’m ready to just pick up where we left off?”
He hesitated. “I thought we were making up. Isn’t make-up sex the best part of having a fight?” He handed her a twenty and said, “Keep the change.”
“You’re incorrigible. But Angie isn’t planning to go out, as far as I know, so fooling around at my place is out of the question.”
“Then I’ll take you to mine.” He was surprised how easily that popped out. He
rarely took a woman back to his place, and yet with Brandee, he didn’t even have to think twice about it.
She smiled. “I’d like to see it. I’ll bet you have mirrors on the ceiling.”
He laughed. “Nope. Not even close.”
“Seriously? I figured a horny bachelor would have all the bells and whistles.”
“You really do have a bad opinion of me.”
She shrugged. “You earned it.”
He slapped a hand over his heart. “Ouch. You wound me.”
“Hey, I’d be happy to be proved wrong. I get off at five.”
“And I’ll get you off at five thirty.”
She groaned. “I’m serious, Nick. That was really, really bad.”
“I’ll work on it.”
***
Good to his word, Nick returned at four fifty-five, ready to take her to his place. She made him wait in the bar while she ran upstairs to change. She brushed her teeth and hair, then freshened her makeup. Now, what to wear…
She stood in front of her crowded closet and started flipping through her clothes.
A red silk blouse slipped off its hanger and pooled at her feet, almost as if she’d had a little “help” deciding. She glanced around, then shook her head. “Oh, my paranoia. It’s just a coincidence.”
Even though the thought of supernatural “help” unnerved her, she had to agree with the choice. A pair of black slacks and her red top would work for pretty much whatever he had in mind. Although the only thing on Nick’s mind seemed to be getting her out of anything she put on as soon as possible.
She ran to the bathroom and shut the door. Brandee felt stupid, acting as if someone might be watching, but she dressed quickly. A pair of gold hoop earrings was in a dish on the counter so she grabbed them and put them in as she trotted down the stairs. Anything to get out of there. The place was giving her the heebie-jeebies.
When she reentered the bar, a wolf whistle greeted her. Nick quickly strode over. “Wow.”
He shrugged into his leather jacket. “Ready, gorgeous?”
“I think so. I didn’t know if we were going out before heading to your place, so…”
Tory must have overheard. “You’re taking her to your lair, Nick?”
He bristled. “It’s not a lair.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re a reformed man now.”
Nick leaned over and kissed her temple. “Pay no attention to my hard-up friend, sweetheart. He’s just jealous.”
“True,” Tory said and laughed.
Nick opened the door for her, then called over his shoulder, “Get your own hot date, Tory.”
Brandee liked being valued, but really. “Damn. Oh, look, now you made me curse. Do you have to act like you own me?”
Nick looked like he was about to put his arm around her but let it drop. “What did I do now?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s just…I don’t know.” She sighed.
“It’s a guy thing. We were just busting each other’s chops.”
He was right. She was probably being oversensitive. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll try not to pay attention to things like that, as long as you don’t start getting overly protective and possessive again.”
“I’ll do my best. Shall we?” He held out his hand to her.
She slipped her hands into her pockets. “Where do you live?”
He paused, then said, “Mount Vernon Street.” He tucked his own hands in his pockets and strode off in that direction.
She had a hard time keeping up with him. “Hey, slow down.”
He whirled on her. “Which is it, Brandee? One minute you want more of me than I’ve ever given any other woman, then you complain when I pay too much attention to you. I don’t understand. What do you want?”
She reared back. “What the…”
“Yeah. What the…” He jammed his fists on his hips.
He’s usually so happy-go-lucky. I’ve never seen him this frustrated. Brandee blew out a long breath. “Look. I can see that you’re a little confused.”
“A little?”
A young couple veered into the street rather than go around them on the sidewalk.
“It might be better if we discuss this at your place. I-I should tell you something.”
He took a deep breath. “Fine.”
She reached out her hand. He stared at it, as if unsure what to do. She must have really confused him. Later, she’d admit to being a little confused too.
At last he enveloped her hand in his big, warm palm. She smiled up at him and said, “Lead the way.”
By the time they arrived at his place, both of them had calmed down considerably. He led her up some stairs with a wrought-iron railing.
“You live in one of these pretty brownstones?”
“Not the whole thing. The building is considered a duplex. I have my living space on the third floor, and the bedrooms are on the fourth floor. The other occupant has the first and second floors.” He gave her a sly grin. “I had planned to take you to the top floor and right into my bedroom. But…”
“But we need to talk first.”
“Right.”
They had to hammer out a few details before they nailed each other. She took one step inside and stopped. His place was breathtaking. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this wasn’t it. The ceilings must have been at least ten feet high. Period details like the crown molding and exposed brick had been lovingly preserved.
The polished hardwood floors gleamed, interrupted only by two large oriental rugs. An open-concept living and dining room was unusual in these old buildings, but the result made the space seem huge. He must have had it remodeled.
“Wow,” she said.
He smiled. “That’s the reaction I was going for.”
“Did you design this?”
“Partly. I told the architect what was important to me, and he basically rebuilt it from scratch. We recycled the trim and doors, though.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“About ten years.”
“How could you afford this on a cop’s sal—Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask you that. How rude of me.”
He chuckled. “It’s okay. My brother and I co-owned a successful business for a few years. Then we sold it. But you don’t want to know all that.” He peeled off his coat and hung it in a large closet near the entrance.
“You’re wrong. I want to know everything about you. I think that’s why I’ve been so…”
“Reluctant to commit?” he supplied.
“Yeah. There may be a couple of other reasons too.”
“Well, let’s get comfortable and discuss it over a glass of wine.”
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
He reached the modern kitchen in three long strides and took a corkscrew from one of the many drawers. “Red or white?”
“White, please.”
He opened a wine fridge. “How about sauvignon blanc?”
“Sold.”
“You’re easy.”
“Not usually. But you swept me off my feet.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you seem to be in a better mood.” He poured two glasses, then handed her one. She followed him to the living area and sat next to him on the sofa.
“Is it okay if I kick off my shoes?”
“Make yourself comfortable.”
She did. With her stocking feet curled up under her thighs, she faced him and lifted her glass.
“Cheers,” he said.
“You know that’s the name of a rival bar, right?”
“Oh, right. Well then, Boston Uncommon! Where everybody knows you’re strange.”
She giggled, and they clinked glasses.
After each of them took a sip, he asked, “So, how do we start this?”
She knew what he meant. She had asked for this conversation, but knowing where to begin was daunting. Might as well jump in anywhere.
“I think we need to talk about what we expect from each other.”
He nodded. “Okay. You go first.”
Lovely. Now she had to figure out how to put her feelings into words. “I guess I just want a normal boyfriend.”
He let out a loud guffaw. “Boy, did you come to the wrong place. No wonder you’re disappointed.”
“I never said I was disappointed. I just think we went a little too far too fast. Maybe because we’ve known each other for a while, we thought we knew each other better than we do.”
“Hmmm… Okay. I think I get it. You missed the old-fashioned courting thing?”
“Huh? No. I don’t need that. I just think we should have gone on a few dates and talked about ourselves—our pasts, our present, and maybe the future.”
“Oh, is that what dating is for?” he asked, with a teasing smile.
She rolled her eyes. “Sheesh, I forgot. How would a player like you know that, especially if you’ve never done it?”
“I’ve done it…superficially. I just never got wrapped up in anyone’s life before.”
“Yeah. I think that’s the problem. You got too wrapped up in mine, instantly.”
“Hey, when it’s right, it’s right. Why waste time?” He gave her another teasing grin.
“Stop being charming for five minutes, will you?”
Instead of listening to her, he leaned in for a kiss. And instead of meeting his lips, she raised her glass of wine and took a big sip.
He sighed and leaned back into the loose pillows. “Cock blocked by my own crystal.”
“Nick, I’m serious. We need to talk first.”
“And I’m serious too. About you. About us. I love you, Brandee. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
Her jaw dropped. “Really?”
“Honest to God.”
She couldn’t help being impressed and just a little bit flattered. “You’re full of surprises.”
“You are too.”
“Me? I thought I was an open book.”
Nick played with a few strands of her hair. “Maybe with a few pages stuck together. You said there were some reasons you were reluctant to be with me.”
