Disavowed (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  “How could you possibly know whether we had sex? Do you have ESP? I had sex with you on the first date, so how do you know I didn’t have it with Jack?”

  “I can hear you,” Marjie shouted from the storefront.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” She pushed at Dom’s chest, forcing him to release the armrests, then jumped up and slammed the door shut.

  When she turned back he was still seated on the edge of her desk. The corners of his mouth lifted, and it galled her how attracted to him she still was.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Answer the question. How do you know?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a guy thing. We can tell when one of our own didn’t get any and contracts a painful case of blue balls. We turn into assholes.”

  “There’s a flaw in your theory, Doctor. Last year when you slept with me, you actually got some”—she hooked her fingers into quotation marks as she said the words—“yet you still turned into the biggest asshole I’ve ever seen.”

  Even though he was sitting, he was so tall that when she parked her fists on her hips and leaned in, they were practically eye to eye. “What’s the matter, no snappy comeback?”

  He moved so quickly it stole her breath. One second she was standing in front of him, and the next…he had her pinned, his hard body pressing hers against the wall, her arms held over her head as he clamped both her wrists in one of his hands.

  While she struggled to breathe, her breasts pushed mutinously against his chest. His mouth hovered over hers, skimming her lips, teasing her with the promise of a kiss so hot and passionate she honestly didn’t know what she’d do if he tried.

  Still gripping both her wrists in one hand, he slid his free hand down the inside of her arm, her rib cage, and along the outside of her breast. She couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver or the bolt of red-hot need that speared her core. She closed her eyes, dismally aware that her body was betraying her and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

  “No snappy comeback,” he whispered, just before his mouth crashed down on hers.

  She gasped, inadvertently opening her mouth enough for him to thrust his tongue inside. Instinct had her pushing at his waist, trying to extricate herself, but as his tongue found hers he groaned, and it was the sexiest, most intoxicating sound she’d ever heard.

  His erection was long and hard against her belly, waking a yearning she inherently understood Jack never could. Hot, steamy need shot through her blood. She stopped pushing at him, curling her fingers into fists. What am I doing? When his mouth left hers to place a fiery trail of kisses along the sensitive curve of her neck and down the open V-neck of her sweater dress, she abandoned all hope of answering that question.

  He bit gently through the taut fabric until her nipples pebbled, then his mouth was on hers again. Now it was her turn to groan as he threaded his fingers through her hair, using his other hand to gently knead her breast.

  She dug her nails into his back, finding the fabric of his shirt too much of an impediment. She tugged his shirt up and slid her hands over his ripped abs and around to his thick, flexing back muscles. To her astonishment, he was trembling.

  “Daisy, Daisy,” he whispered against her mouth. “I want you so fucking bad.”

  More need spiraled to her center, and she had the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and let him have his way with her right there on her desk. If only the knocking in her head would stop.

  Knocking. Someone at the door. Shit.

  “Daisy?” Marjie giggled from outside the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but someone is here to see you.”

  Dom pulled away until there was a scant two inches between their bodies, but even with that distance the heat coming off him was like an out-of-control firestorm, wave after wave of hot flames licking at her. His eyes were hooded and dark, glowing with lust, a grim reminder that that’s all she would ever be to him. A lustful conquest.

  A piece of ass.

  He didn’t care about her. Not really. The only thing on his mind where she was concerned was getting her naked. She took a deep breath, willing the pounding of her pulse to slow. It didn’t.

  For crying out loud. How can I want a man so badly, knowing full well he’s the worst thing for me?

  The shift in mood was subtle, but it was there nonetheless. An awareness on his part that the moment was gone. “Be right there,” she said loudly enough to be heard through the door. “Don’t you have work to do?” She’d intended that to be an order, but it had sounded more like a breathy plea.

  “You’re right. I do.” He clenched his jaw and stepped back, and for a moment she actually thought she saw pain in the depths of his eyes.

  No way. I must be imagining it. A man like him doesn’t feel pain, at least not where women are concerned.

  After another deep breath, she went to the door and slipped into the hallway.

  Children’s laughter greeted her as she entered the shop’s showroom. “Miss Daisy, Miss Daisy!”

  Erin and Emily Dobson ran toward her, and she crouched to hold her arms wide as the little girls flew into her embrace. The children were just what she needed, bringing a heartfelt smile to her face. They’d come in with their parents every Saturday for the last two years to pick out two flower stalks, and Daisy looked forward to their visit as much as they did.

  “Hello, Daisy.” Marilyn Dobson smiled, as did her husband, a nice-looking man who stood off to the side, wearing an amused expression.

  “Good morning, Marilyn, Bill.” Daisy laughed over her shoulder as each of the girls took one of her hands, dragging her to the cut-flower cooler. “Now what kind of flowers would you like today?” She pulled the sliding glass door open so the girls could get closer.

  Erin was two years younger than Emily and had difficulty seeing the pails of flowers on the top shelf. Daisy picked her up, cradling her to her chest, giving her a better view.

  “I like that one.” Erin pointed to the pail of large orange Gerber daisies.

  She held Erin closer to the brightly colored flowers so that the child could reach out and grab the one she wanted.

  “An excellent choice, as always.” She set the girl back on the floor, then crouched next to Emily. “And for you, Em?”

  The little girl’s face was adorable as she scrunched up her nose, deep in thought. “I can’t decide. They’re all pretty.”

  “Yes, they are. That’s why I love working here.”

  “Someday I want to work here, too,” Emily declared.

  “Maybe someday you will.” Daisy winked. “When you’re big enough.”

  Emily finally plucked a stalk of purple and white dendrobium orchids from the pail in front of her. “Pretty,” she whispered, holding the flower tightly to her.

  “C’mon, girls.” She ushered the children back to their parents, who handed over six dollars to Marjie.

  “G’bye, Miss Daisy!” Emily said, while her sister waved.

  “See you next week.” She waved back and continued watching them through the shop window until they were out of sight. Exhaling a long sigh, she turned to see Dom with his hands jammed into his pockets, watching her with a soft, thoughtful expression on his face. She’d never seen that look on him before.

  “Ahem.” Marjie coughed. “I hate to break up whatever this is, but if Dom doesn’t get moving, he’ll be late for the church.”

  “Right.” He grabbed the stack of white flower boxes from the counter, then headed toward the back of the shop to load up the van.

  She watched him go until he disappeared out the back door. A snicker had her turning to find Marjie watching her, smirking. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Marjie threw up her hands and began paring off thorns from a large bucket of blush roses.

  With a groan, Daisy stomped back to her office and slammed the door shut. In the hallway, she heard the clomp of Dom’s boots as he went back and forth two more times to pick up more delivery boxes and load them into the van. When she finally hea
rd the van’s motor crank up and shift into gear, the sigh she uttered was one of pure relief. Having him around was like being on an emotional roller-coaster ride. Although he’d inadvertently given her total clarity where Jack was concerned.

  There would be no second date with him. It wouldn’t be fair to lead him on when he didn’t elicit the same passionate responses from her that Dom did. Every time Jack touched her, or kissed her, she would always be thinking of another man.

  With an even louder groan, she threw down the pen. OMG, what am I going to do? Would she spend the rest of her life comparing every man to Dom?

  The answer to her dilemma was painfully obvious. “I’ll enter a convent.” She laughed bitterly. Sarcastic though that solution may be, it did present one very painful reality.

  While she couldn’t have Dom, she still wanted what he did to her—what he made her feel.

  But she’d rather live her life alone than compromise on a man who wasn’t her soul mate in every way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dom pocketed his last tip of the day and got back into the van. It bugged him that Jack was at the Piazza today without him. He wanted to stick close and try to get a bead on Smith and the weapons, but if he objected too much Daisy would get suspicious.

  Despite the seriousness of the operation, he’d actually enjoyed himself today. He’d made over fifty dollars in tips, plus one turkey sandwich, five chocolate chip cookies, and a grab on his ass from the seventy-year-old mother of the bride. A stark difference from the usual reception he got on the job. Normally, when he showed up on someone’s doorstep it was because of seriously bad shit. A homicide, a kidnapping, a robbery, to name a few. But aside from funerals and hospitals, flowers were always associated with a happy occasion. Like birthdays.

  Today was Daisy’s birthday.

  He hadn’t known that until after he’d kissed her. In fact, he hadn’t had a single coherent thought for several minutes afterward. He’d remained in her office not only to let his supremely painful boner come to heel but to process what had just happened.

  Stupid didn’t begin to describe what he’d set in motion. He’d been an idiot to think he could distance himself from her when his body craved her so badly. But there was far more to it than the promise of amazing sex, and that’s what scared the shit out of him.

  Sparring with Daisy, teasing her until she got so hot and bothered it made her cheeks flush with heat, were all things he liked about her. And she was kind. He’d seen that firsthand today as she’d interacted with those two little girls. Not for the first time, he found himself thinking what a great mother she’d be. As he’d watched her help them pick out flowers he’d felt a discernible squeeze in his chest. She had a warm, maternal nature that people were inexorably drawn to. Including him.

  No matter how much he tried to fight it, every minute he spent with her she got deeper under his skin, and he was coming to—

  Coming to what?

  He shoved the keys into the ignition and stared out the windshield, not knowing how to finish his sentence, except to say that he cared for Daisy more than he should. When she was in pain, he felt it, too. As she’d watched the girls leave the shop he’d seen the wistful look in her eyes. There was something eating away at her. Most people didn’t see it, but he did.

  He started the van and headed back into Manhattan. Keeping his personal shit about Daisy separate from the job was proving to be more of a struggle than he’d ever anticipated. But right now she was part of the job, and protecting her was always at the forefront of his mind. Protecting her physically was the easy part. Healing whatever emotional wounds she was obviously suffering from was the real challenge, and he did want to help her. If only he knew how.

  Slowing for traffic, he remembered how upset she’d been right before he’d walked into her office. She’d been staring at her calendar. Most people didn’t get teary-eyed by a calendar so he’d looked at it and seen it was her birthday. Earlier, Jack had denied having plans with her tonight, so was she really staying at home alone?

  At the next stoplight, he noticed a jewelry store, and adjacent to that, a bakery, both on the other side of the intersection. When the light turned green he hesitated until the car behind him honked. As soon as he hit the gas his cell phone rang. It was Gray. He pulled over and double-parked in front of the jewelry store.

  “What’s up?” he said, watching a couple looking through the store window.

  “Could be nothing,” Gray said. “Jimmy Gonzalez didn’t check in today.”

  Dom drew his brows together. “Is this the first time he’s missed a call?”

  “Yeah. We think he’s still in the Bahamas, but to play it safe I told his handler to get the Royal Bahamas Police to verify he’s still at the apartment.”

  “Keep me posted and let me know if he misses his next check-in.”

  Dom ended the call and began massaging his chin. He wasn’t really worried that Gonzalez had missed a call. Even though it was part of his agreement with the NYPD, it didn’t surprise him. The guy would probably check in tomorrow, hung over as a fried turd.

  After stuffing the phone back into his pocket, he stared once again at the bakery and jewelry store. The crazy-ass thing he was pondering was a hundred miles outside his comfort zone and a really, really stupid idea. Sure, he’d gotten a woman a cake before, but never in his life had he purchased jewelry for one. Jewelry was too personal, and he’d never wanted to mislead a woman into thinking she meant more to him than she did.

  Hell, he’d never even bought jewelry for Anika, although that was because she would have chewed his ass out for wasting money that could have been spent on medical supplies that were scarce in war-torn Afghanistan. But this wasn’t the Middle East, and this wasn’t Anika. This was Daisy, and she was hurting.

  Yesterday, when he’d overheard her talking to Alex on the phone about Alex’s pregnancy, there’d been genuine joy in her voice, but afterward there’d been sadness. Today he’d seen it again. Something was very, very wrong, and he was beginning to suspect that beneath her bubbly, fiery exterior was a woman in serious pain.

  He shut off the engine and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. Hiding one’s pain was something he was achingly familiar with. When Anika died he hadn’t told his family. The only thing they knew was that he’d been seeing someone in Afghanistan, but he’d never divulged the true depths of that love. Or that Anika was murdered. Instead, he’d chosen to conceal his pain, and when it came to women—he slept around.

  Bottom line was that he hadn’t wanted anyone’s pity, so it was easier to keep everything tucked safely away in his own personal space. Didn’t take a shrink to see that Daisy was doing the same thing, and he wanted to know why. More to the point, he wanted to help her with whatever was eating her up inside. Not that he was anyone to give advice, but he could at least relate to her need to clamp off feelings and hide them away.

  Cursing himself for being a sap, he got out of the van.

  Forty minutes later, he parked in front of the floral shop. Along the way, he checked email on his cell phone. No new messages. Damn, but he’d hoped to get something new from his D.C. contact.

  As he approached the shop’s front door, he noted the large delivery truck wasn’t parked outside, which meant Jack hadn’t returned from the Piazza. A sliver of suspicion crept up his spine that Jack was doing something at the hotel besides delivering centerpieces.

  He entered the shop and was greeted by Daisy sitting at the front counter. Marjie usually worked the counter but was nowhere to be seen.

  “How’d it go today?” Daisy looked up from de-thorning roses with a small knife.

  “An old woman grabbed my ass.”

  She snorted. “Did you enjoy it?”

  Dom chuckled. “Dunno if I’d say that, but she was clearly an experienced ass-grabber. Her finesse was impressive.” He leaned his hip against the counter, admiring the skill and speed with which Daisy sliced the sharp thorns from the flower stalk
s.

  She plunked the rose she’d been working on back into the silver bucket and grabbed another one. “It’s a fine motor skill Mrs. Abernathy’s been honing for decades.”

  “You knew?” He raised his brows. “And you sent me out there unprotected, to be mauled?”

  “A player like you?” A hint of a smile graced her lips. “I figured you could handle her. You probably even liked it.”

  Dom clenched his jaws and took a deep breath. Mrs. Abernathy hadn’t bothered him. He’d recognized it for what it was. An old woman feeling frisky and trying to recapture her youth and have a little fun. But the hidden meaning behind Daisy’s accusation bugged him, and he was stung with the need to explain why he’d done the things he’d done. Why he hopped from one woman’s bed to the next.

  Why you’ve always been on my mind.

  “That’s not who I am,” he said.

  “No?” She kept slicing off thorns onto the counter, working even faster. “You could have fooled me. After all, isn’t that what you were doing with me in my office today? Playing?”

  He grabbed her wrist, feeling her pulse skyrocket beneath his fingers. “I’ve never played you.”

  “Bullshit.” She threw the knife onto the table and glared at him. “What do you call it when a man throws a woman up against the wall and grinds against her like a horny teenager?”

  Dom gritted his teeth. He’d never felt the need to explain to any woman why he behaved the way he did, but he wanted Daisy to know. Correction, needed her to know. And he wanted her to trust him. No small task, given their past.

  As he rounded the counter, she picked up the knife and began hacking off thorn after thorn, working even more swiftly than before.

  “Look at me.” He kept his voice gentle, but she refused to meet his gaze. He rested his hand on her arm, but she shrugged from his touch.

  “Don’t touch—” She gasped, and the knife fell from her hand. Blood dripped onto the counter, and she clasped her injured finger, holding it tightly to her chest. Her forehead wrinkled in pain.

  “Oh, Jesus.” Dom urged her to the nearby sink to wash out the cut. “Let me look,” he said softly, adding, “please,” when she resisted.