by Tee O'Fallon
The encounter had left a burning imprint on her nerve endings and her common sense. The man was as deep and seductive as velvety chocolate mousse. The way he could turn it on and off left her wondering if he was only using this blatant sexual attraction sizzling between them to get past her defenses and probe into her personal life. Then again, what did she really think would happen between them right there in the middle of the street? He was a public official, on duty and in uniform, no less, and from everything she’d learned about him, he was a consummate professional.
No, what really bugged her was that she’d actually started to like the guy.
Not only was Mike intelligent, but he had more of a sense of humor than she’d initially given him credit for. At least for a cop, anyway. And Raven adored him. The furry little harlot had watched longingly in Mike’s direction, whining as they’d driven off.
As she slid another lunch special onto the order ledge, she noted the Nest was nearly filled to capacity, something that pleased her to no end. That, and the numerous compliments on her new dishes. Rose had even given her a small raise. Ironic, since technically, she still had a job with the NYPD and was now pulling in two paychecks. Maybe she’d donate her second income to a worthy charity.
“If you’re keeping an eye out for Mike,” Sue said, nodding to the door, “between patrolling and organizing everything for the Police Benevolent Association picnic table this Sunday, he’s probably too busy to stop in.”
“I was not—” Cassie gave up and laughed. Sue might think she was surveilling the door for Mike, but in reality, she was maintaining a watchful eye for strangers or anyone else who stood out in a homicidal kind of way.
“The day of the picnic, the Nest not only shuts down for the day but opens late the following day. It’s become a town tradition,” Sue went on. “All of Hopewell Springs takes over Effinger Park well into the night to watch the fireworks. Mike organizes that, too.”
“Of course he does.” Cassie’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “The man’s a saint. There has to be a flaw.” Because if she put aside Mike’s on-off attitude toward her, in the span of two weeks he’d totally undermined her preconceived notions of male cops.
A high-pitched voice pierced the air. Cassie and Sue leaned around the refrigerator to see what species could produce such a painfully shrill noise. There was Mike with his arm around a petite brunette in an expensive-looking ivory silk skirt and matching sleeveless blouse.
Feeling self-conscious, Cassie glanced down at the food-stained apron tied to her waist and her drab purple cotton T-shirt and blue jeans.
Mike guided the woman to a table by the window directly across from the kitchen opening. Both were laughing and had eyes only for each other. No sooner had they seated themselves than Mike took the woman’s hand in his and smiled. That warm, gooey, mashed potato smile.
“Who’s that woman?” Cassie asked Sue.
“Never seen her before.” Sue’s tone was suspicious. “Like I said, I never saw him bring a woman in here. Ever. Give me a sec. I’ll get the scoop on her.” She squeezed Cassie’s arm and headed out to the dining area.
Cassie yanked several slips off the order wheel, practically tearing them in half. While reading them, she darted a few quick glances at Mike and his date. The woman was not only pretty but on the verge of stunning.
Dark brown hair curled and bobbed stylishly above her shoulders. Her skin tone was flawless. Deep pink lipstick outlined a set of heart-shaped lips that would be the envy of any cover model. Cassie couldn’t see what color her eyes were because the woman had eyes only for Mike.
She groaned. Just when she’d begun to admit maybe she had real feelings for the guy, he had to flaunt his Cover Girl girlfriend in her face.
No girlfriend, huh?
This from a man who’d made it unequivocally clear only yesterday how much he didn’t tolerate liars. Cassie didn’t need to be an experienced detective to decipher the body language. It was obvious how much he and this stunning beauty were infatuated with each other.
Mike Flannery was the biggest liar of them all, rat bastard. As expected, he’d finally shown his true cop colors. Navy blue with a gold stripe down both sides. And all this after she’d fessed up about her last cop-date being such an ass. A Flannery-type ass. At least she now had the answer to one burning question. No way had Mike’s physical interest in her been sincere, not with a woman like that waiting for him at home.
Sue approached Mike’s table with a coffee pot in her hand. While she couldn’t hear what was said, Cassie saw both Mike and the woman nod. Sue poured them cups of coffee and went back to her other customers.
Cassie snatched up a cleaver and started hacking away at the potatoes sitting on the thick butcher-block table. The cleaver echoed loudly as she whacked away.
“Hey, Cass,” Chuck called out, laughing. “We do have a prep chef for that.”
She shot Chuck an I’d-kill-you-if-it-was-legal look.
“Okay, okay.” He stifled more laughter.
So did Leo. Even Danny snickered as he loaded dirty plates into the sink.
Oh, great. Does everyone in this place think I’m pining away after Mike?
Another ten minutes listening to Mike’s date titter at his every word and Cassie was ready to scream. He stood and tossed a few dollars onto the table, then curved his arm around the woman’s tiny waist and led her outside to a cream-colored T-Bird convertible. Figures, everything about the woman was chic.
The woman bestowed Mike with a glorious deep pink smile, then stood on her tiptoes and linked her arms around his neck. She planted a kiss on his cheek, then wrapped him in a tight hug. Oh, brother. After the woman drove off, Mike paused as a shiny blue Honda cruised slowly along Main Street. As the car neared Mike, it sped up and kept going.
On his way back toward the door to the Nest, Mike stopped and cast a suspicious glance at the blue car. Jimmy’s cruiser eased into an empty parking space next to Mike’s Explorer. Jimmy got out and spoke with Mike for a minute, both men’s gazes now trailing the blue car as it disappeared down Main Street.
When Mike and Jimmy came inside and sat at the counter, Cassie grabbed a large metal spoon to stir the fresh pot of chili she’d cooked up earlier in the day. The identity of the mystery woman with Mike still irked her, and before she knew it she’d spattered chili onto the stove with angry strokes of the spoon. As she reached for an unopened bottle of chipotle hot sauce, Sue came up behind her.
“I have no idea who that little chickie is,” she whispered into Cassie’s ear. “Mike introduced her as Moira. They didn’t order any food. Apparently she was in a hurry, but he’s coming back in for his chili. Said he has to eat in a rush, what with picnic preparations and all, so how’s about spooning up a large bowl for me, will you? I’ll get Jimmy’s beef stew.” Sue patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get the dish on that woman later.”
“Never flaunts his women around town, huh?” Cassie shot Sue a sarcastic look before setting the metal spoon onto the counter. She struggled to uncap the bottle of chipotle hot sauce, grunting when the cap finally popped off. “Well, he sure is flaunting this one. No girlfriend, my ass.”
“I’m telling you, it’s a first,” Sue said as she began dishing up a large crock of stew from an adjacent pot. “It’s not like him at all.”
Cassie glared at the pot of chili. She didn’t grow up with three older brothers without learning how to give as good as she got. Hadn’t Mike said that to her, that he gave as good as he got?
A lightbulb went on in Cassie’s brain—the immature prankster side of her cranium. This would be the perfect time for her repressed sense of humor to join forces with her sudden need for payback. Both were itching to cut loose.
“I’ll get him his chili, all right.” She grabbed a large bowl from the shelf overhead, then picked up a ladle and dished the bowl high.
“Thanks, hon.” Sue held out her free hand for the bowl.
“Wait.” Cassie
twisted her mouth into an impish smile. “I’m not done yet.” She set the bowl down and emptied the entire bottle of chipotle hot sauce into the chili she’d dished up for Mike. Sue gasped, but Cassie ignored her and proceeded to delicately mix the hot sauce into the chili. “If that man wants to flaunt what a hunk-a-burnin’ love he is, then let him burn.”
“Uh, Cass?” Chuck stared at her.
She looked up to see that Chuck and Leo had also seen her spike the chili.
Leo raised his brows. “Isn’t that a tad strong?”
“I will not bring that to him.” Sue sent her a reprimanding glare. “No matter what he’s done, he doesn’t deserve that.”
“Fine. I’ll bring it to him myself.” Cassie wiped the rim of the bowl with a towel and sprinkled a hefty handful of grated cheese over the top.
“Why?” Sue asked as Cassie took the crock of stew from her.
“For lying to me and for making me—” What, jealous?
Please, not the green-eyed monster.
Turning back to Sue, she insisted, “It’s a joke. It won’t hurt him. I only want to send him a message.”
“What message?” Sue grimaced. “That you want to burn out his esophagus?”
Cassie considered not going through with her prank, but the image of Mike hugging that woman tightly in front of half the town was permanently branded into her brain.
She walked out to serve Mike, sporting the sweetest smile she could dummy up. “Hello, Mike.” She nodded to Jimmy as she served him his stew. “Hello, Jimmy.”
“Cass.” Jimmy smiled, then swept his gaze alternately from her face to Mike’s, as if sensing the dark undercurrent brewing between them.
Cassie set the bowl of chili onto the counter in front of Mike. Dark blue eyes bored into her. Dark, suspicious eyes.
Nothing I say or do gets past this guy. He’s already at Def Con One.
“Here’s your chili. This one’s free, gentlemen. My treat.” She smiled again and batted her eyelashes. “Too bad your girlfriend couldn’t stay for lunch.”
He cracked a smile as he picked up a spoon. “Already told you, don’t have one of those.”
Not wanting to be in close proximity for the first bite, Cassie ignored Mike’s answer and scurried back to the kitchen to position herself and enjoy the show. Chuck, Leo, and Danny quickly lowered their heads and got back to work. Sue hustled out to the dining room.
Cassie kept one eye on Mike through the kitchen opening, pretending to chop vegetables. When he scooped up a heaping mouthful of chili, she held her breath, waiting for him to swallow.
Mike paused with the spoonful of chili halfway to his mouth. His gaze lifted and caught hers. She froze, unable to look away. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Slowly, he set the spoon back into the bowl and crossed his arms over his broad chest, his eyes never leaving hers.
Uh-oh. He knows.
How the man knew what she’d done, Cassie hadn’t a clue. It was as if he could read her mind, anticipate her every move.
No sooner had she finished the thought when Mike stood abruptly and grabbed the bowl of chili. He rounded the counter and bore down on her in the kitchen. He plunked the bowl onto the stainless-steel prep table in front of her.
Cassie cocked her head, feigning confusion. “Something wrong with your lunch, Chief?”
“You tell me.” He pushed the bowl closer to her side of the table.
Around them, all activity in the kitchen ceased. Chuck, Leo, and Danny paused to witness the confrontation.
Mike came around to her side of the table and scooped up a spoonful of chili. He held the spoon a few inches from her mouth. “You first.”
“Me first, what?” Cassie responded, holding her ground and sporting the most innocent look she could muster.
“The first bite.” Mike moved the spoon until it was practically right under her nose.
Cassie resisted the urge to back away, but another few seconds and she’d have no choice. Peppery steam spiraled from the chili to her nose, then to her eyes, which instantly began tearing from all the hot sauce. Her nostrils flared, and she could barely keep from sneezing. She blinked rapidly, unable to stem the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Another second and she couldn’t take it, turning away to grab a paper towel and sneeze four times in rapid succession.
“Yeah.” Mike snorted. “That’s what I thought.” He smirked and dropped the spoon into the bowl.
From behind her, Cassie heard Chuck, Leo, and Danny snickering.
Well, damn. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much that Mike had won this battle of wills. Then the image of him kissing that beautiful woman right in front of her and everyone else at the Nest reminded her why.
After she let out another sneeze, Mike leaned in close until she could feel his warm breath on her neck. An involuntary shiver ran through Cassie’s body, partly from the effect he always had on her and partly out of the slightest fear he’d arrest her for attempted assault on a police officer.
“Nice try, Chef Cassie,” Mike said in a low voice. “I’ll remember this.” His last words were spoken harshly, matching the hostile look he threw her just before turning to head out of the kitchen.
“I was only kidding,” she yelled after him. “It was a joke.”
Mike spun and stalked back to her until they were nose to nose. “You think assaulting a police officer is a joke?” His jaw muscles flexed as he clenched his teeth.
“Assault by hot sauce?” Cassie couldn’t hold back the snicker.
“Lady, you’ve got one sick sense of humor. You could have burned my tongue off, not to mention destroyed my entire digestive tract! That’s assault in any courtroom.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “With three older brothers, I was forced to learn innovative ways to keep up with them.”
Mike hooked his hands on his duty belt and shook his head. “What, did you grow up with the Manson family? ’Cause if that was your idea of a joke I’d hate to be around when you have a family spat.”
Chuck, Leo, and Danny started to laugh again, stopping short when Cassie shot them an angry glare. Somehow, she had to make good here with Mike. She really was beginning to feel lousy about what she’d done. Or almost done.
“We’re not quite as bad as the Manson family,” Cassie said. “We’re really more like the Brady Bunch, or the Partridge Family.”
Mike uttered a sarcastic laugh. “More like the Sopranos, I’d bet. Bumping off anyone who looks at you the wrong way.”
“No, not the Sopranos.” Cassie shook her head, racking her brain for a way to defuse the situation. She gave him a hesitant smile. “The Sopranos were Italian.”
Sighing, she took a risk and rested her hand on his forearm, feeling the steely tension simmering beneath his skin. The wary gleam in his eyes softened, and for a moment Cassie could swear he was about to smile.
“How can I make it up to you?” she asked.
Mike opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a call on his radio.
“Chief, the state police colonel is trying to reach you,” the dispatcher said.
Mike canted his head and clicked the mic. “Tell him I’ll call him in five.”
“Ten-four.”
To Cassie, he said, “Rest assured, I’ll get back to you on that.” A moment later, he was gone.
Oh boy.
Cassie didn’t want to contemplate what kind of sentence he’d impose on her. She continued to watch him as he shoved open the door to the Nest, got into his Explorer, and drove in the direction of the police station. An eerie chill crept up her spine. She of all people knew that look on a cop’s face.
She’d made a rookie mistake and let her feelings get in the way. The result—she’d just been added to the top of the police chief’s shit list.
Chapter Eight
The hearty aroma of tender meat, fresh vegetables, and red wine filled the kitchen as Cassie stirred the pot of beef bourguignon with a long, heavy spoon. She sighed, feeling like
a complete idiot.
She’d assumed Mike had broken off their steamy, sensual, roadside embrace because he had that hot little brunette waiting for him at home. But in the two days since she’d spiked Mike’s chili with hot sauce, Sue and Rose had discreetly uncovered the identity of the brunette Mike had been having coffee with. Mike’s sister, Moira.
Turned out Moira was a freelance food critic who traveled all over the country. Mike hadn’t seen her in over a year, and she was passing through the area on her way to see their parents in the city.
The biggest, most shameful and humiliating lump formed in her throat. She’d practically poisoned the chief of police and all for being affectionate toward his sister. And she’d lumped him in with the likes of her last date. Come to think of it, their behavior had been more like siblings, not a couple. She’d just wanted—no, needed—to believe it had been otherwise. Or she’d have had to address her feelings for him.
Something that scared the hell out of her.
As much as it killed her, Cassie had a flock of crow to eat and owed Mike a mountain-sized apology. And now that she knew he really hadn’t been flaunting a woman in her face, taking her mind off their hot roadside encounter was a virtual impossibility.
For the last two mornings, she’d awoken with the bedsheets twisted around her sweat-soaked body, her mind running rampant with erotic thoughts. She could still taste him, feel his lips on hers. His strong hands on her bare skin. His mouth on her nipples.
Visions of Mike and what his bare, toned body must look like beneath all that Kevlar insinuated themselves into her thoughts. She imagined him unclasping her bra, running his hard, callused hands over her—
“Earth to Cassie,” Chuck yelled from the far side of the kitchen. “For the third time, are you there?”
“What?” She looked up from stirring.
Chuck smirked. “We realize you’re preoccupied with your failed attempt at murdering the chief of police the other day, but do you have a cell phone in your locker?”
