Falling for the Bad Girl (Cutting Loose)
Page 12
Without waiting for him to say any more, she hurried out of the room. Keeping her eyes fixed on the bathroom door, she clamped her lips and avoided eye contact. Finally, she reached the safety of the bathroom. She bolted the door behind her, leaned against the wood and breathed deeply.
She could still salvage this.
She’d done nothing wrong.
After fixing her hair on top of her head, she showered quickly, dried herself, and pulled on panties and the strappy dress she picked at random. It was scarlet—very apt. Smoothing the skirt down over her hips, she peered into the mirror. She had a slight stubble rash over her collarbone, her lips were swollen, her eyes sleepy. She looked like she’d just gotten laid and laid well.
Well, she wasn’t going to get any better than this. At least, not in the time between now and when someone broke in and dragged her out, kicking and screaming.
Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door, pasted a smile on her face, and walked into the sitting room.
“Hi, guys.” She waggled her fingers, then cast a dark look at Darcy and Summer, who were both grinning inanely, followed by a very insincere smile at Tom and his pretty girlfriend whom she’d never met before. Tom changed girlfriends regularly, but at least he’d never dated a cop. She couldn’t believe they’d all been sitting in here while she’d had sex next door. Ugh. “Sorry, I’m running late.” She addressed Tom. “Why don’t you head on home, and I’ll follow?”
For what seemed like a long time, no one spoke. Then Tom rose to his feet. “Your phone was switched off.”
“I was working.”
He glanced toward her bedroom door and pursed his lips. “I sincerely hope you were not working. If that was work, I’m having words with our mother.”
Darcy giggled, and Regan gave her another dark look. “Hey, I’m all grown up now. It’s really none of your business.” There were five years between them. Tom had been murder when she was growing up, chasing off potential boyfriends. Funnily enough, he’d approved of Bobby, which just went to show he had no taste and should mind his own goddamn business.
He raised a brow. “You’re still my baby sister, and as God is my witness, I never ever want to hear my sister scream like that again.” He shuddered. “I will take that scream to my grave.”
She sniffed. “I was having a nightmare.”
“A nightmare who wears size nine shoes,” Summer said, dangling one of Nate’s shoes from her fingertip.
“Traitor,” Regan muttered. “Whose side are you on, anyway?” She stalked over and grabbed the shoe.
Tom folded his arms across his chest. “If you don’t introduce us, we’ll think the worst. So you might as well let us see the guy.”
Somehow, she doubted he could think anything worse than the truth. Could she get away with a quick introduction? Trouble was, a Malloy could sniff out a cop a mile away.
“Are you ashamed of him?” Darcy asked.
Regan shot her a narrow-eyed glare. The words echoed what Nate had asked. But really, it wasn’t a matter of being ashamed so much as keeping the peace and maybe keeping Nate alive. Her family could be truly fierce if they thought they were protecting their own. And they wouldn’t believe he didn’t have ulterior motives.
“No, I’m not ashamed of him.”
Still, she dithered.
Tom walked over to her and gave her a grin and a hug. “Come on, sis, get it over with.”
She huffed out her breath, shrugged free, then marched across to her bedroom and slipped inside. Nate was seated on the edge of the bed, fully dressed except for one shoe. She tossed it to him.
He caught it and put it on as she tried to define his expression.
“Hey,” she said, starting to feel defensive. “Separate lives, remember? And anyway, I don’t see you introducing me to your family.”
His lips twitched. “Good point. But I didn’t actually say anything.”
“No, you just looked.”
He got up and walked over to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and bent down and kissed her lightly. She glanced at the door. Kissing Nate with her brother next door just didn’t seem right. As for fucking Nate with her brother next door—she was trying to obliterate that from her consciousness. She could be severely damaged by that sort of memory.
“Go,” he said. “I’ll wait until you leave.”
“Sorry, but that is no longer an option. Just come out, say hi, shake hands and try…” She pressed her forehead. “Try not to act like a cop. Or look like a cop. Or…”
“I look like a cop?”
“From the tips of your toes to the top of your head.”
She studied him from his messily tousled hair, down his long, lean body. She was guessing he’d come straight from work and was in his usual working gear—jeans and a button-down shirt. Actually, he shouldn’t have looked like a cop; he was too scruffy—she liked scruffy—but it went beyond his clothes. She sighed.
“There’s nothing to be done. Just get out quickly and smile a lot. Cops never smile.”
His lips were twitching again. How the hell could he find this amusing? He leaned in. “Just in case I don’t get the chance to say it during my quick getaway—I had a great time tonight. The best.”
Even amid the chaos and impending doom, she couldn’t stop the smile curving her lips. “Me, too.”
She took a deep breath and led the way out of the room. Darcy and Summer were still seated, but Tom and his girlfriend were on their feet, hovering by the door. Thank God. It looked like they were leaving soon.
Her brother waved his phone. “I just called Mom, told her there’ll be one more for dinner. And they’re all waiting, so we’d better get a move on.”
Those words made absolutely no sense. Her brain scrambled to sort them into something she could deal with. “You’ve done what?”
Chapter Twelve
Regan’s question came out as a screech, and Nate had to resist the urge to put his hands over his ears. Her brother winced, and then his gaze shifted from Regan to where Nate stood just behind her.
She was totally freaked out about this. She really did not want him to meet her family. And he could understand that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but think—what the hell was wrong with him? Yeah, he might be a cop, but did that make him socially unacceptable? Obviously, in the circles Regan moved in, it did.
He stepped forward from behind her, nodded to Darcy and the other blonde, presumably Summer, sitting beside her, then fixed a bright smile on his face—since when did cops not smile?—and held his hand out to Tom.
Her brother was about his height and probably near his age. He had Regan’s black hair and blue eyes; the family resemblance was clear. He’d also spent time inside a few years ago—Nate knew that from the files—and had actually been in prison when Regan’s case was happening.
“Tom, this is my…friend, Nate,” Regan made the introductions. “Nate, this my brother, Tom, and his girlfriend…?” She raised an eyebrow at the blonde standing with her arm hooked in Tom’s.
“Sharon.”
“His girlfriend, Sharon.”
Nate nodded to her. “Hi, Sharon.”
She was a pretty girl. Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she looked him up and down as though she found him interesting, or as though she’d just heard him screwing in the next room. Regan had not been quiet.
“Right,” Regan said, “that was nice. But now Nate has somewhere really…important to go.”
“Indeed he does. Dinner with your parents,” Tom replied.
“He can’t come.”
“I’m sure if he’s such a friend, he can make time to meet your family.”
“He’s not that sort of friend.” Nate watched the battle of wills. He was getting the impression she would have liked to stamp her feet.
“No, we all heard what sort of friend he is.”
She tugged at her hair, then took a deep breath. “Look, he’s a one-night stand, okay? I just picked him up. We’ll never see each ot
her again. Why should he meet my mother?”
“Now you’re telling lies, which makes me wonder—why? You forget, I met your ‘friend’ here last week at the painting party. And he’s familiar. I’ve seen him somewhere before. Which makes me wonder why exactly you’re so keen to keep him away from us. Are you ashamed of your family, Regan?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “You’re a total embarrassment.”
Tom appeared amused, if anything. He looked over at Nate, who stood impassive under the inspection.
He could just walk out. They couldn’t make him go to dinner. And clearly Regan didn’t want him there. It was probably that last thought that made him act as he did. Hell, she’d called him a one-night stand. And that had made him feel… He wasn’t sure, and right now was not the time to analyze his feelings. But he hadn’t liked it.
He edged closer to Regan. She edged away. Which annoyed him, and amused him, in equal amounts. Finally, she’d gone as far as she could, her shoulder to the wall, and he slipped his hand into hers. “Perhaps I can come along and stay half an hour, just to meet your folks.”
She flashed him a look that promised all sorts of retribution.
“There,” Tom said, before Regan could respond. Actually, Nate had an idea she was speechless. “All sorted. Let’s go. Do you have a car?” he asked Nate.
“No, I walked.”
“Good, we can all go together.”
Less chance of him making his escape, he supposed.
The car was parked in the alley. Tom drove a big, expensive Mercedes. This year’s model. “Nice car,” Nate said. “What is it you do for a living, Tom?”
Regan flashed him a narrow-eyed glance, but Tom didn’t seem bothered by the question.
“I’m in distribution.”
Nate suspected that it was more likely redistribution. He waited for the reciprocal question, but it never came. Tom was probably delaying the interrogation until the whole family was present. Instead, he ushered Nate and Regan into the backseat. Regan snapped on her seat belt, clearly still rattled, then she took some slow breaths, and her shoulders drooped.
For a second, he was sorry he’d pushed this. It wasn’t part of their deal, and he didn’t want to make trouble for her. But really, why should her family care? It wasn’t as though he was about to arrest them all. Though for the first time, it did occur to him—what if he did learn of any wrongdoing through his association with Regan? Would he not be honor bound to report it? The truth was, he’d never expected the relationship to last this long, certainly hadn’t intended to meet her family, so it hadn’t been a concern.
He’d been an idiot for coming along. He should have just walked away. As she’d wanted. Now he had to extract himself as quickly and cleanly as he could.
Regan sat beside him in the back. She spent most of the drive staring out the window, her face blank of expression, giving no indication of her thoughts.
In the front, Sharon switched on the music, turning it up loud. Nate reached across and took Regan’s hand, wrapped his fist around her fingers. “Hey,” he said quietly, and she turned from the window to him. “I’m sorry. I should have just left.”
She frowned. “Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t like being called a one-night stand.”
She searched his face. “You know I didn’t mean it. I just said that so Tom would leave you alone.”
“I still didn’t like it. But don’t worry, I’ll be good. Just a few minutes, and I’ll be out of there.”
She stared at him a moment longer, and then a giggle escaped her. “I don’t think I will ever forget Tom’s expression.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s sort of hard, isn’t it?”
“What’s hard?”
“Separating our lives into compartments. Things we can and can’t share. My family. Your job. In fact, the only thing we can share is sex.”
He didn’t like that, and again he had no notion why. “And Trixie, and flying, and sailing.”
“Yeah.” She nestled closer, and he looked up and stared straight into Tom’s eyes. They’d come to a halt at a red light, and he was watching them through the mirror. Nate gave her a nudge, and she straightened and returned to staring out the window for the rest of the journey.
They pulled up in the driveway of a big detached house. Regan’s father was also obviously very successful at what he did. Nate pushed the thought from his mind. He’d say his hellos and get out of there.
He’d actually been to her family home once before. When he’d arrested her. She’d been alone at the time, so he hadn’t had the pleasure of encountering the rest of the family on that occasion.
This time, he was getting to meet the whole clan. In the hallway, they were greeted by a small, slender blonde. Regan’s mother. She gave Regan a hug and then looked beyond, her gaze settling on him. Her inspection was thorough, and then she held out her hand. “I’m Judith,” she said.
He took her hand. “Nate. Nate Carter.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Nate. Come along, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family.”
She led the way to the door, but hesitated with her hand on the handle, then turned back to him. “Regan probably hasn’t told you,” she said, “but she’s had a little…trouble in her life recently. And now we just want to make sure she doesn’t repeat her bad choices. So if we seem a little overprotective, I’m sure you’ll understand why.”
What the hell did that mean? Was he about to be led into some sort of medieval torture chamber where he’d have his fingernails pulled out? Or more likely his balls chopped off? They tightened, trying to draw up into his body for safety. The rise and fall of voices drifted out from the room. It sounded like there was a whole crowd of people in there. For a second, he hung back.
What the fuck am I doing here?
Deep inside a den of thieves. Literally.
Something must have shown in his expression, because Regan smirked. “Hey, you have only yourself to blame,” she said. Then she patted his arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“You mean I’m not going to wake up wearing cement boots and sinking in the Thames.”
“Not our style,” she murmured. “More likely in the foundations of some new building site. Dad’s invested a lot in construction over the last few years.”
“Thanks.”
It turned out there were thirteen people in all, including him and Regan. The room went quiet as they entered, and all eyes turned to him. He’d expected to be dragged around the room and introduced. Instead, Judith came to stand beside him. “Everyone, this is Regan’s friend Nate. And now perhaps we can eat. Dinner’s already two hours late. We can do proper introductions afterward.”
Something to look forward to.
He hadn’t intended to stay, but somehow he was ushered to a place at a long dark wooden dining table. He glanced at Regan almost helplessly, but she merely shrugged and took the seat beside his. With great reluctance, he sat. He peered around as everyone else took their seats. An older man at the head of the table must be her father. He caught his gaze and gave a nod.
His own fault, as she’d said. Now he just had to keep his head down and get out of there as soon as possible.
The conversation started up straight away. He’d expected some sort of interrogation, but for the moment, apart from a few curious stares, he was left alone to eat his crab-and-avocado salad. Once or twice, he glanced up to find Tom watching him, his brows drawn together.
But at least the food was very good. He tended to live off cereal, fast food, and takeaway these days. As the first course was cleared away, he sat back. Maybe he would come out of this unscathed.
“Hello.” The woman on his other side spoke, and he turned with a smile. She was another blonde, maybe around twenty-five. “I’m Sarah, Sam’s wife.” She nodded at a man across the table—another of Regan’s brothers from the look of him.
“Hi, I’m Nate. A friend of Regan’s.”
Don’t be paranoid. It’s a perfectly respectable question.
Of course her family would want to know how they’d met. He decided to skip the part where he’d arrested her right here and move on to their more recent encounter.
“We met in the bar at the Ritz a few weeks ago.”
Everyone around the table had gone quiet, listening avidly.
“Swanky,” Sarah murmured. She looked past him to Regan. “Not your usual place, hon.”
“My friends paid for me to stay there the night I got out,” she said. “As a treat. I went down to the bar for a drink, and there Nate was.”
“So you took advantage of a desperate woman?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “You do know about Regan’s time away?”
“Yes, he does,” Regan said drily. “You’re not letting out any secrets. And I was not desperate.”
“You’re kidding me. If I went nearly three years without any dick, I’d be crawling up the walls.”
Luckily, the second course came then, some sort of chicken and garlic that made his stomach rumble. He really should start taking control of his life and learn to cook. The questioning halted for a time while everyone ate. But he knew it wasn’t over. He shoveled the food into his mouth fast because it was good, and his time was limited.
“That was lovely,” Sarah said, putting her knife and fork down and sitting back. He did the same. There was no point in putting this off. He suspected Sarah had been set up to find out the salient facts about him. At least she wasn’t pulling out his fingernails. Yet.
“So, Nate,” she said, “what do you do for a living?”
The moment of truth. He gave a quick glance to Regan. She shrugged but didn’t seem overly concerned. Unlike earlier.
He sat up straight. “I’m a police officer.”
The silence would have been amusing were it not for the fact that he was the cause. And there was something so…terminal about this evening. They’d always said they would keep their lives separate. It hadn’t seemed such a big deal. Now here he was, face-to-face with a whole roomful of reasons why that had to be. Why there could never be anything more than screwing around between them. However much he liked her. Here was the concrete proof that a happily ever after wasn’t in the cards.