Crushing on the Cop (Blue Collar Brothers Book 2)

by Piper Rayne

  I stare up at him speechless. He’s right, but he’s also wrong. Any of the many men before him would probably say that I am a Blanche. It was only with him, even in the midst of a raucous good time, that I felt anything.

  “Do you think I’ll pass out after a block?” I ask, changing the subject.

  He bends his arm behind his head and let’s be clear, I follow his lead because the most exercise I’ve done in the past year is bringing the donut to my mouth.

  “No, I pegged you for at least a half mile before we stop.”

  “Oh you did, did you? I bet I can go a whole mile.”

  He jumps up and down a few times and then squats and stands a couple times. Already assured I’ll be getting a side cramp in half a block, I figure we should get this over with.

  It’s clear from the first step that Cristian’s pacing himself based on what I can handle. No wonder he’ll be running home after this.

  “You okay?” he asks a block later.

  “Where is a half mile?” I pant.

  He laughs because he has that much oxygen in his lungs while I’m one inhale away from passing out.

  “Think of it this way. You see that fire hydrant?”

  My eyes focus on the red object on the next block.

  “Only think about getting there.”

  I nod because I don’t want to waste my breath on words. Seriously, this is more embarrassing than when I threw myself at him in the bathroom. He’s barely broken a sweat and my sports bra is already growing damp and I can feel the hair that’s fallen from my ponytail sticking to the back of my neck.

  We reach the fire hydrant and I slow my pace.

  “Nope. Now look at that street light,” he says.

  I focus in, sweat stinging my eyes. “It’s…three…blocks.”

  He laughs again because for some reason he finds torturing me funny.

  “You can do it.”

  I half wonder what I look like running. Cristian looks confident and sexy. Like the men in movies. I’m positive I’m Phoebe from Friends. Arms flailing and feet stomping.

  A few minutes later I approach the light and thank goodness we have the big red hand to stop us from crossing. I love you big red hand. But Cristian jogs in place rather than standing to wait. Of course he does. Already feeling inadequate enough, I do the same.

  “That’s good. Now, you have two choices.” His voice sounds as though we’re sitting in a cafe enjoying a nice cup of coffee. “You’ve hit half a mile.” He smiles like a proud father. I’d like to pat myself on the back, but I think I’d get a cramp if I tried. I didn’t think I’d make it two blocks. Truth is, without Cristian guiding me along, I wouldn’t have. “So, we stop and walk or you try to make it a mile.”

  Part of me wants to impress him, though I have no idea why.

  “I’ll go for the mile,” I pant.

  I really hope we pass a fire station so the paramedics can revive me.

  “Thatta girl. I knew you were a fighter.” He gives me a big smile and I hate that it causes a warm feeling to invade my chest.

  The dreaded white stick figure appears on the traffic light and we cross the road. Cristian doesn’t pick up the pace, but he talks the entire time about a domestic disturbance call he got the other day.

  “She was crazy. She went after me with a high heel shoe… I had to arrest her in front of her son…I hate that…Luckily a grandma lived with them because…it’s a hard day when social services gets called. I’m sure she’ll get bailed out, but we have to draw the line…You can’t disrespect the people who are there to help you…I know we get a bad rap and no one likes the police…Most of us are good guys who took this job to help…As it always is, a few bad guys give us all a bad rep…Then again, I’m not the one issuing a lot of speeding and no turning on red tickets.”

  I enjoy hearing him talk about his job and I can’t help wondering whether he’s usually the type who keeps his day a secret. My dad told me nothing growing up. Sometimes I’d hear him talking on the phone to his partner or when he’d have poker night I’d listen in from the top of the basement stairs as they discussed calls they were sent on. Usually, I had a nightmare on those nights. As I got older, I understood why my dad wanted to keep me in the bubble he created. It’s a sick world we live in sometimes.

  “One more block, we’re so close. You’ve got this, Vanessa.” He switches conversation and I was so lost in my memories of my childhood, I didn’t realize we’d already ran four blocks. He jogs up in front of me, showing off by facing me and running backward. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

  “You want to hit me right now, right? You’re done and want to quit?” He’s egging me on.

  I’d tell him I want to smack him if I could actually speak right now, but my throat is strangled for breath.

  “Get to the end of this street and you can punch me in the gut if you want.” He picks up the pace, turning back around and running a little faster.

  I’m going to kill him.

  I focus on the street sign until I reach it, pushing Cristian, the pain in my chest and my legs and everything else from my mind. When I reach it my feet come to a dead stop.

  “Nope, keep moving.” His hand lands on my upper arm, guiding me around the corner. “You can’t just stop, you have to give the heart time to slow down a little.”

  We walk as I gasp for breath.

  Yeah, I’d go back to the bathroom and allow him to physically remove his dick from my mouth because that would be less embarrassing than this. I might actually throw up.

  “We’ll walk for a little bit and then we’re going to start running again. You think you can do it?”

  “What am I getting for this again?” I manage to get out in a strangled voice.

  He chuckles. “Your dad’s respect.”

  I start to laugh, but it turns into a coughing fit.

  Is this really that important? Is running alongside my dad and the new Mrs. Flanagan worth all this?

  Sweat trickles from my eyes. It better be sweat, otherwise Cristian is about to see the complete mess that I am. And he wants to fix everything, including me. That’s the last thing I’d be able to stand. A man who wants to save me. I’ll save myself, thank you very much.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cristian

  I’ve done ballsy things over the years. Things that could end my life. But showing up at Vanessa’s, intent on persuading her to run with me was right up there with pulling my gun out during a bank robbery on my shift. I second guessed my decision in both instances. At least at the bank, it was because I didn’t want to alarm the robber and get innocent people hurt. This time it was because I’d be the one to be hurt if she turned me down.

  When I left her house last night I convinced myself we’re too different, things would never work out between us. So the only explanation for why I’m walking alongside her right now is that my heart is leading me, not my head. Because my head knows there’s a high probability, I’ll completely fall for her and she’ll still kick me to the curb.

  She’s trying to catch her breath and I’m trying to convince her to stick with me on this training thing. Even when a week to train for a 5k is absurd. She’ll never be able to run the entire thing.

  Heartbreak for me is on the horizon, so I enjoy the view of her ass as she’s bent over as compensation.

  Here goes nothing.

  “I registered for Stan’s race today.”

  Her head twists in my direction. “Why?”

  “To support you.”

  She straightens out, standing in the center of the sidewalk while a grouchy old man huffs and winds his way around us, giving us both the death glare.

  “Cristian, we need to talk. It’s like you have multiple personalities. I’m not even sure what you want from me.”

  I continue walking because she needs to in order to prepare her body for the race. She’ll be stiff and sore tomorrow if she doesn’t.

  “I’m not a games person, Vanessa. I know
I’ve been saying one thing and doing another. We’re probably as opposite as you can get, but the truth is, I can’t stop thinking about you and me, and sure as hell can’t stay away from you.”

  “Because you have a savior complex. My dad has it, too.”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s not it.”

  “Why? I’m sure you must think I’m a mess. I mean I have some guy creeping around my house, you find me crying in a bathroom. What else has there been? A savior complex is the only reason you could be attracted to me.”

  I can’t help but huff in amusement. “Let’s be real for one moment.” I reach for her arm and make her stop and face me on the sidewalk. “I’m attracted to you because you’re five eight and blonde. You’re gorgeous. I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you at the district visiting your dad. But it’s true that I’m not a guy who trolls for girls every weekend. I don’t bring women back to my apartment with only the intent to sleep with them. Have I had a one-night stand? Sure. Do I prefer them? No. The reason I’ve been so hot and cold is because I know you don’t want anything serious. Especially with a police officer. But for some reason, Vanessa.” I take a step closer and her breath hitches. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

  At this point, I have to let my gut lead me. It’s what keeps me safe on a daily basis, so I’m going to lay out my hand right here on the street. She’s trying her best to push me away, but I know there’s something more between us. We just need the opportunity to discover what it could be.

  “Cristian, you don’t even know me,” she says and starts walking again.

  “I know you hate running, that you love everything pumpkin spice, that although you want your dad out of your daily life, you’re not ready to see him with someone else. I know that you loved your mother and want to be a fashion designer. I know you have a small birthmark on the inside of your right leg that’s shaped like a heart.”

  She bumps shoulders with me. “You noticed that?”

  “I could probably sketch your body from memory. Or at least describe it to the police sketch artist since I lack the creative gene.”

  Her cheeks flush a slight pink and all the blood in my body heads between my legs.

  “I don’t do relationships, Cristian.”

  I stop us on the residential street, backing her up until she’s pressed against a black iron fence that surrounds a newly constructed house. A few cars breeze down the street, most likely cutting through the neighborhood to avoid traffic.

  “Try it. I’m not asking for much. You’re not moving in with me and in fact, we don’t even have to sleep together. But go on a date with me where you’re not trying to get the waiter to spill a drink on you so you have an excuse to leave. Let’s get to know each other and see where this goes. If it doesn’t work out…we’re both adults and we walk away.”

  She allows me to place my hands on her hips and I step in closer because I’d love to seal this deal with a kiss. A kiss that might turn into more when I get her home, which if she agrees to I might just strap her to my back and run us both back to her bedroom.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you attracted to me?” I ask because the way her body reacts to my touch, I know for certain she is.

  “I think every woman you come into contact with is attracted to you,” she deadpans.

  I tuck a strand of hair that’s fallen from her ponytail behind her ear. “I’ve run into a few lesbians who aren’t.”

  She smiles and inhales a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay. We’ll see how it goes, but Cristian, I’m warning you. I’m not easy.”

  I crash my lips to hers because she’s exactly what I want. I don’t need easy. I wouldn’t be a Chicago police officer if I did. But she’s wrong about the fact that I want to fix her. I like her the way she is and I wouldn’t ever want to change her, I just want her to open up. But that will take some time to prove.

  She tastes like pumpkin spice mixed with peppermint and somehow that makes me smile as my tongue explores her mouth.

  This kiss is different than our first one, it’s rushed and urgent. Her hands wrap around my shoulders and she jumps up. I catch her and my hands cup her ass while her legs wrap around me. I kiss her hard, surrendering to the desire I feel for her. The frustration of trying to keep my distance wins the war in my head. We’re finally both on the same page, so I don’t stop, although it would suck balls if I got a ticket for public indecency. Especially with the Commander’s daughter.

  I push all thoughts aside because I have her in my arms again and she’s agreed to give this thing with us a chance. It’s like the little lottery balls just matched up with the ticket I’m holding. I’m cheesy as hell as I smile while my mouth descends down her neck and travels back up to her earlobe.

  “Cristian,” she pants. “We’re in public.”

  Her words fall on deaf ears. I hear them, but the signal to my brain must not work because I don’t stop. I can’t.

  “You’re so fucking delicious.” I inhale the salty scent of her sweat mixed with her perfume. The sweetness reminds me of walking into a bakery.

  Her fingers cling to my shirt and I press her harder against the fence.

  “Cris,” she moans. “We’ve got to stop.”

  The seductive draw in her tone does nothing to give meaning to her words. Until she unwinds her legs from around my waist and slides down my body.

  Finally, I come back to reality. God, she’s right. What the hell was I thinking? I would’ve stripped her down right here in front of a stranger’s house.

  She makes me forget who I am.

  “Come on. Take me home and we can continue this.” She grabs my hand and pulls me forward.

  Any normal hot blooded male would follow, no questions asked.

  Too bad I’m not a normal male because I don’t let her entice me. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We want to be a normal couple then we’re going to act like one and get to know each other better before we sleep together again.

  “We need to run back to the house,” I say.

  Her entire body turns to Jell-O as she lets her arms hang in defeat. “I prefer to work out another way.”

  “Me, too, but Stan’s Donut race isn’t about how long you can fuck, so we need to run back to the house.” I lightly smack her ass and start running.

  “Cristian, you’re such a buzzkill.”

  “I’ll promise you something.” I turn around and jog backward because I need to look at her.

  “What?” She jogs forward, putting in the same effort a toddler does at cleaning up their toys.

  “Working out means more stamina.” I wink and turn back around before I embarrass myself and fall over a fire hydrant or something.

  “Why do I get the feeling we’re not headed back to screw each other?”

  “Good intuition. I’m going to make you work for this body.”

  She laughs and nothing has ever sounded so beautiful to my ears. I could easily become addicted to hearing that sound.

  “Total buzzkill,” she says and jogs by me, smacking my ass like she won’t be bent over in a block wheezing for breath. “I’m going to make it hard on you.”

  “I love a challenge.”

  She looks at me over her shoulder. “Challenge on.”

  Her coy smile sends a thrill right to my dick. I have a feeling I might’ve just bitten off more than I can chew, but I always rise to a challenge.

  Chapter Twenty

  Vanessa

  Our third day of training and I run the entire mile by myself and only need pushing for the extra half mile. Yay me! It’s not much, but I wouldn’t have made it a block if not for Cristian.

  That realization has kept me up at night.

  I may have stopped at TJ Maxx on the way home from pitching myself and my clothing line at Rose and Ivy yesterday because if I’m running with the guy I’m dating but not sleeping with, I need to keep him intrigued. My pants might be a tad tight in the ass
and my shirt should maybe be one size bigger, but yeah, workout clothes are meant to be fitted.

  “Walk for two blocks and then we’re going to run until the end of the street. Grab your visual goal and focus.”

  “You’d make a great Lamaze partner,” I say.

  “Is that an offer?”

  “Since you’re the one keeping sex off the table, I’m not sure the father of my baby would want you in our delivery room.” I smirk at him.

  Cristian stops in his tracks and I slow my own pace down, glancing over my shoulder.

  “I get that we’re just starting out and don’t want to get ahead of ourselves but please leave other dicks out of our conversation.”

  I laugh, grab his hand and tug him forward.

  It’s odd really. This ease that has transpired with Cristian since he caged me against the fence two days ago. It’s nice not dissecting where we stand and even nicer not fighting my attraction to him.

  Lucky for me, my phone has been clear of voicemails from certain other men, which is another reason why I’m floating on a cloud. Still, I can’t deny how much Cristian has done to prepare me for this Saturday. I appreciate his help even if I’m reluctant to put myself out there and show it. I’d like to show it to him while we’re both naked, but he’s made it clear that’s not happening yet. I kind of want to find out exactly how much stamina we both have.

  “Jealous?” I ask with a quirked brow.

  “I’m not too proud to admit I am.”

  He jogs by me and I watch his ass for a little bit before I join him. Just like the last two days he allows me to set the pace and just like the last two days I feel like a loser who’s holding him back. But he took an Uber again and plans on running home so I guess he’ll still get a proper workout in.

  We finish the three miles and are stretching on the front steps of my house. Again, I follow his lead because he’s the master in this area.