Stark Raving Mad (Chicago's Finest Book 2)

by Vanessa Knight

  Like she was any better. She was such an ass.

  When she found out he was one of the cops on the case, she just assumed he was guilty. The very thing she hated— innocent until proven guilty. Those weren’t just words, yet when Joe stood in front of her, she didn’t question his guilt, she assumed that he was. And she should have been his key character witness. She knew this man. This man who was hurt by her misjudgment. This man who had gone through the motions all afternoon. Not laughing, not talking, not seeing.

  She hated that she did that to him, and she had no idea how to fix it.

  “Adam doesn’t call you Stitches.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She should be finding a way to drop the subject, not remind him he hated her.

  “It was before his time.”

  “Oh.” She lifted the slice of pizza but stopped before she took a bite. “Shay doesn’t call you that, either.”

  “She doesn’t think any of it was my fault.” “She’s a smart woman.”

  He sighed and dropped his food onto the plate. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Okay. Then what would you like to talk about?” She dropped her piece of pizza onto the plate.

  “Nothing.”

  Her fists clenched. “If you say nothing one more time, I swear I’m going to dump this beer over your head.”

  “What do you want me to say?” His voice was so monotone, dead.

  “How about when I say, ‘I’m sorry’, you say ‘I forgive you’? How about you tell me how you’re feeling about this Timmons thing, about us, about global fucking warming. I don’t care. But stop shutting me out.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, so there’s nothing to forgive.” He raised and lowered his shoulders, defeat evident in the droop of his head. “I don’t feel anything about the Timmons thing anymore. It pissed me off back then. I almost quit my job a few times. I kept getting different partners, some disgusted that they were paired with a snitch. But then Shay and I were paired. I mostly let it go. For the record, I didn’t realize there was an us, given how quick you believed the worst. And global warming sucks.”

  Ouch. That hurt. No matter how true it was. She did believe the worst.

  “I’m not fond of global warming either.” She raised her plate to chest level. Anything to protect her from those words. Anything to forget those words. She picked up the pizza and took a bite. She hoped the gooey cheese would alleviate the pressure building in her chest. Tomatoes exploded in her mouth, cornbread crust melted on her tongue, but neither did a damn thing about that pressure. Her chest ached. Her eyes stung. Her appetite scurried away. No us.

  That about broke her heart. Not that she didn’t deserve it. Maybe she should just cut her losses. She finished the slice. “Do you want any more pizza?”

  “No thanks.” He continued eating what was on his plate.

  Apparently, he wasn’t as broken up that there was no us.

  She took her plate and bottle. “I’m going to bed. You can leave whenever you’d like. I’m sure I’ll be fine till Shay gets here.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Okay there’s a remote for the TV on the side table.” Brook’s eyes watered as she rinsed her plate and slid it in the dishwasher. She finished her beer and dumped the bottle in the recycle bin.

  Joe walked in the kitchen and rinsed his plate.

  “Good night.” She headed toward the stairs.

  “Are you tired?” Joe leaned against the counter, his bulging forearms crossing his chest.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you going to bed?”

  “It’s easier if I get out of your way. Shay will be back soon, and tomorrow I’ll see if Adam and his partner can take over this—this babysitting job.”

  “So that’s it.” His eyes narrowed.

  “What else is there to say?” No us. “I think you’ve said it all.” No us. “Why try to fake something that’s not there?” “You disappoint me.” He shook his head.

  The words were like nails on a chalkboard. Disappoint. Did she mention she hated that word? Like she needed to be reminded what a disappointment she was. “It’s a good thing there’s nothing going on between us then, or that might have upset me.”

  She turned toward the stairs and spun back. “And just for your information, I thought there was an ‘us’. I screwed up and tried to apologize. You won’t let it go. So don’t give me that’s it. You chose for it to be it. Disappoint you? Screw you.”

  Tears ran down her face. Dammit. She hated giving him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. She stomped up the stairs, his footsteps echoing behind her. Maybe if she hurried, she could get to her room and lock the door before she made a bigger fool of herself.

  “Hey!” He stopped the door as she tried to slam it shut, his foot lodged in between the door and jamb.

  “What?” Brook slid a hand over her eyes to hide the tears.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She hid behind the wedged-open door, keeping pressure on it. She just wanted to shut the damn door.

  “Don’t go to bed.” He leaned his shoulder against the door, pushing a little. “Why?”

  “Because…I’m sorry. You forgave me. I forgive you. Just don’t shut me out.” His hands slid into his pockets as he angled his back against the door, opening it a little further.

  “It just hit too close to home.” Dammit, she said too much.

  “Why? Because I said you were a disappointment?”

  She didn’t reply. She hated those words. Even casually. Even as a question.

  She stopped pushing on the door.

  “Who said that to you? Was it that ex-boyfriend of yours?”

  “Todd? No. He would never be that cruel.” She gave up on the door and sat on the edge of her bed. “My father. In his mind I could never do anything right. I was uncontrollable, undisciplined. Never had the right priorities. Never smart enough. Never good enough.”

  “You?” He leaned back and stared at her like she had two heads. Like it was so hard to believe.

  “Yeah, I was different back then. I had a military father who wanted to direct me and everything in my life. I despised being controlled. If he told me what to do, I’d do the opposite. I drove him crazy.”

  He sat down next to her on the bed. “Sounds pretty common for a teen.” “I suppose. Did you have trouble with your parents, too?”

  “Nice distraction technique. But, yes. My parents divorced when I was young. My dad didn’t want a kid, didn’t want to pay for a kid, so he didn’t. Mom and I struggled for years, but he didn’t care. We moved in with my aunt for a while, but it was still hard for Mom to find a job and make ends meet. When I was about ten, my mom met Walter. He treated me like his own son.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to offer sympathy, and just in time she thought better of it. “You grew into one hell of a man,” she said instead. Her hand travelled up the hard muscles of his thigh, and glided up the ridges of his chest. The man had all the right parts, in all the right places, that’s for sure. Her hand angled to his lap, where a bulge was already forming. His body was hard, ready. Heat burned inside her belly and slithered lower and lower.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I must not be doing it right, if you need to ask.” She moved her hand along the front of his jeans.

  “I thought we were talking.”

  She stopped her hand and looked up, giving him her best come-hither look. “We could talk, or we could find something else to do with our mouths. I have a very talented mouth.”

  His eyes hooded as he shifted his hips on the bed. She knew that was an invitation, so she moved her hand back to him, rubbing up and down. Her lips found his.

  Deep, blistering kisses. Lips devouring. Tongues clashing. Fire sizzled in her veins as Joe leaned her onto the bed. No. She was calling the shots here, and even though her core pulsed with need, she had other plans for her detective.

  She pushed him back
onto the mattress and straddled him. She leaned into him, her lips pressing into his. This felt right. His fingers combed through her hair as his lips roamed up and down her neck. Her body writhed, screaming for him.

  Every nerve ending popped as his hands felt their way along every curve of her body. Yes. This was right. He felt right. She unbuttoned his jeans, dragging denim with her as she left the bed. No underwear. Again. Damn, that was hot.

  Freed from the confines of his clothing, he sprang to life.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. Breathy, voice wavering. Yeah, he had that effect on her, too.

  “Right here.” She leaned down and took him into her mouth.

  He shivered as a groan left his lips. He tasted fantastic, felt amazing. Her thighs burned as she took in more and more of him, his gasps of approval lighting her heart ablaze, sending her core into overload. Wanting to please. Wanting him.

  There was no other place she’d rather be, and no one else she’d rather be with. Love coursed through her veins. Love? Shit. She was so screwed, and not in a good way.

  Well—tonight would be in a good way. She’d deal with the repercussions tomorrow.

  * * *

  Dennis walked along the alley and watched the little house from behind the fence. Did they think he wouldn’t find her? Especially having her stay with another damn cop. He wasn’t stupid.

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. There were some great inventions that caught on while he was on the inside. Cable was a godsend. MP3 players were amazing. Cell phones—well—he could live without those. Who needed to be reached twenty-four hours a day, anyway?

  He looked at the screen. Not her again. “What?” “Is it done?”

  “I’m planning my strategy.” He kicked a pebble into the neighbor’s garage. “For cripe’s sake. There’s no strategy. Grab her and come home.” Her voice grated on his last nerve. She was lucky Pastor Brian reformed him during lockup, because right now he had an overwhelming urge to hit a bitch.

  A small puppy snuck around the corner. Dennis leaned forward and snapped his fingers. The tail angled down as the dog turned his head, watching, reading Dennis’ actions.

  Dennis smiled at the little guy, and the stubby legs hesitated before bringing the puppy closer and closer. ”I’m handling this. Not you. Me.” He watched as the puppy worked his way over to him, sniffing the ground and the air. Dennis held his hand out for the little dog to investigate.

  “Well, then handle it.” The line went dead.

  “Women.” The dog’s head lowered and Dennis rubbed him behind the ears. “Can’t live with ’em. Can’t beat the shit out of ’em. Us guys never win. Do we?” The dog rolled over to show his belly, and Dennis obliged him with a pat.

  “We have to stick together.”

  When he walked back to his car, the dog ran back around the corner. He should have taken Brooklyn when he had the chance, but the apology took him by surprise. Now he needed another shot at her. Another shot to take her and get this over with. Once justice had been served, he could move on. No more anger. No more guilt. Step one of Pastor Brian’s three-step anger management program complete.

  Identify your triggers.

  The pastor suggested he walk away from them. Dennis was taking it a step further. Eliminate the triggers so there was no chance of them popping up again.

  His last trigger, Brooklyn Southby, was next.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brook’s eyes fluttered open to the view of a hard chest. Not a bad way to greet the day. Nicely defined ridges, honey-tinged skin, gorgeous pecs, muscular neck— and all that led to his gorgeous face.

  Sigh.

  He looked so relaxed asleep, the hard-assed, no-nonsense cop face gone. The edges of his face softened, no scowl or concerns arched his brow. Rumpled hair, with wisps clinging to his forehead.

  Adorable. Nummy.

  Nummy? Oh, brother. What was her problem? A few nights of good sex and suddenly she became a giggly teen. Next she’d be trying to decide between Team Edward and Team Jacob, and writing hearts on her notebook. Joe and Brook 4-ever!

  Warm arms wrapped around her body, brought her closer. She drew back to savor the eye feast and see if he was awake, but his eyes didn’t flutter and his breathing stayed soft and even.

  The cool air in the room bit at her cheeks while she watched. Only one solution. Darn.

  Her cheek lapped up the warmth from his skin. Bad news, she no longer had that glorious morning view. Good news, she didn’t really care. Her head rode the waves of each inhale and exhale. Warm. Strong. Safe. He made her feel all of that and more.

  “Morning.” Joe kissed the top of her head. “Morning.” They lay there in silence. Brook couldn’t say anything. Didn’t want to say anything to spoil the peace or move from the warmth and face the cold world.

  After a few minutes, Joe whispered into her hair. “I hope you don’t have any plans. I was thinking we’d stay here all day. I can protect you better when we’re like this.”

  “Naked?”

  “Close.” Joe pulled her to his chest. “Not even the Holy Ghost can get through here.”

  “Catholic school?” She laughed. She’d gone to public school all her life, but she’d known a lot of people who’d gone to Catholic school. It was Chicago, after all. And good little Catholic boys and girls were never allowed too close to each other. They needed to save room for the Holy Ghost. She wouldn’t have lasted long in Catholic school, that’s for sure. “Yeah, you?”

  “No. We could never afford it.”

  “We couldn’t either, but Mom worked two jobs to afford the tuition, no matter where we moved.”

  “She’s a good woman.”

  “She is.” His gaze fell on hers. “I’d like you to meet her.” “I’d like that.”

  His lips slid against hers. Gentle. Soft. Slowly building. Firm. Demanding.

  A knock on the door distracted both of them. They separated, but no head popped in through the opening.

  “Time to get up, lovebirds.” Shay’s disembodied voice came from the doorway. “Are your parts covered?”

  “Go away.” Joe yanked the blanket higher over Brook’s body as Shay swung the door open.

  “No.” She stepped into the room. “Long day ahead. Allison called.”

  “Called you? Why didn’t she call me?”

  “She did. No one answered.” Shay grabbed Brook’s phone from the dresser and tossed it to her. “She’s worried about you.”

  Three missed calls and five texts. Brook ran her fingers over the screen.

  I’m up. I’m fine. Couldn’t hear phone.

  Get your butt over here. The dresses are calling your name.

  Oh yeah, bridesmaid dress shopping day. She looked over at Joe leaning against the headboard. He was going to love hanging out at dress stores all day.

  “Hey, why does she get to have a sleepover?” Shay’s brother Shawn walked in the room. “I wanted Cindy to spend the night last week and you said we don’t do sleepovers.”

  “Go to school, Nip. You’re already running late.”

  “This isn’t fair. Why can’t my girlfriend sleep over?” Shawn crossed his arms, voice rising.

  “You really need me to answer that?” Shay asked, and continued when he shook his head. “Because they already went to college and have successful careers. They’re old enough to handle the consequences of sex. Any babies that result from this union—” Shay motioned to Brook and Joe “—are not my problem.”

  Shay raised her hand and began ticking off reasons on her fingers. “You—have not graduated college, have no viable way to support an unplanned pregnancy. They have their own family to babysit and raise any babies—you do not.”

  “Who says I’d be raising babies? That’s why I’d have a baby mama.”

  “Shawn Washington!” She reached for him, but the kid was fast. He ran outside the room and clunked down the stairs. “You better run!” Shay yelled after him. “If I catch you talking like that agai
n, you’re grounded.”

  “Jeez. Take a joke.” Laughter floated up the stairs before the front door slammed shut.

  “If he isn’t the best reminder to take your birth control, I don’t know what is.” Shay shook her head.

  “So who’s babysitting me today?”

  “I am.” Under the covers, Joe wrapped his hand around hers. Heat spread up her arm and tickled her heart.

  Tickled my heart. Ugh. It was getting bad. She was up to her eyeballs in corny. “Great. We’re going bridesmaid dress shopping.” She watched his face turn into one big scowl.

  “Well, actually I have a stack of reports to get done. So I think Shay should take today.”

  “No way. I’m not playing dress-up with a bunch of screaming girls.” Shay’s eyes bulged. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” It wasn’t Brook’s idea of a perfect day. Although maybe she’d have a liquid lunch. A liquid lunch and her girls. That would make it close to perfect, and make up for the frilly dresses. “I’ll go myself.”

  “No.” Shay and Joe both said it at the same time.

  “Well, then I suggest a quick game of rock, paper, scissors.” She dragged the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around herself. Picking up some clothes, she headed for the bathroom. She smiled at the last thing she heard as she shut the door.

  Joe said, “I’m calling in that favor. You still owe me one.” “Dammit.” Shay sighed.

  * * *

  Brook walked out of the dressing room wearing a floor length sequin-covered blue monstrosity, and Shay tried not to wince. Well, she tried, but she just couldn’t stop her cringe.

  “Oh my goodness! You’re a princess!” Allison’s friend Julie screamed.

  “You look beautiful.” The man who’d been introduced to Shay as Brook’s friend Todd nodded and raised a glass of wine.

  “Is that organza?” Julie ran a hand along Brook and the dress, basically feeling her up. What the hell?

  Shay didn’t know if it was organza, but it was definitely shiny. Break-out-the-sunglasses shiny. Shay couldn’t imagine wearing anything that sparkly. Well, unless she was running in the dark and needed something reflective.