“Sure.”
“I’ll look forward to seeing you.”
They traded quick smiles and parted ways in the lobby of the building. Reese headed for his desk in the squad room, and she headed downstairs to her lab. What a great way to start a day. She felt refreshed and energized after her meal—and conversation—with Reese. She counted it a victory that they seemed to have moved past their bickering to a more flirtatious brand of teasing. Marshmallows and making out would do that with a guy, apparently.
CHAPTER 7
A quick X-ray of what she was starting to call That Blasted Box down at the morgue revealed one fascinating piece of information. Nestled in the exact center of the puzzle box was a metal key.
The rest of the box was made of wood, however, and the X-ray was not helpful in showing her how to open it. Which sent her to the internet and a deep dive into how Chinese puzzle boxes were built. She figured out quickly enough that this one had been handmade, which was not good news. It meant that the builder could have constructed it to open unlike any traditional puzzle box.
But she did learn enough about how the boxes were built in general to begin moving panels and pressing hidden buttons. Reese’s suggestion to just smash the thing resonated through her mind ever more frequently as the day aged.
She was hunched over the stupid thing concentrating intently, her neck and shoulders cramping, and only sheer, cussed stubbornness keeping her poking and prodding at the box when a hand landed on her shoulder without warning. She jumped violently, leaped out of her seat and spun around, hands coming up defensively in front of her before she was even conscious of moving.
“Easy, Yvie,” Reese said, stepping back and holding his hands up in the air.
“Sorry,” she muttered, chagrined at her overreaction.
“That’s some startle reflex you’ve got, there.”
She winced. Unfortunately, she knew exactly where it came from. She’d had a coworker at Quantico who’d gotten excessively handsy with her until she’d taken an intensive, weekend-long self-defense class. The next time he’d snuck up on her and wrapped his arms around her waist, he’d gotten a nasty surprise in the form of a donkey kick to the groin and bloody scratches across his face.
He’d tried to press charges, but the senior lab supervisor had seen Yvette’s attack as self-defense and promised to tell authorities about the guy’s ongoing harassment of Yvette if the guy made a formal complaint. The handsy coworker had backed off. Soon after that incident, he’d transferred to another lab.
While she’d been grateful for the support, the jerk had gotten off with a stern warning to leave the female employees alone, and she was left with a hair-trigger startle reflex over being touched at work.
She sighed. “It’s not you. I’ve had problems in the past with a male coworker grabbing me.”
Reese’s eyes widened, and then narrowed. He asked tightly, “Who is it?”
He thought she meant here in Braxville. “I had the problem in Virginia. Not here.”
Reese relaxed fractionally, but the thunderous set of his brows didn’t ease. “If anything like that ever happens to you here, you tell me about it. Okay?”
“It’s all right. I can handle—”
“Stop being so cussedly independent, woman. If someone harasses you or does or says anything the least bit inappropriate to you here, promise you’ll tell me.”
“Umm—”
“Promise.”
It was her turn to throw up her hands. “All right, already. I promise. But I’ve had a self-defense class. I can protect myself.”
“I believe you. But I can kick someone’s ass into last week. And if someone around here lays hands on you without your consent, it’ll be needed.”
Who knew Reese would go all caveman over protecting her right to consent? And who knew she would find it wildly attractive to have a man go all macho and protective on her behalf like this?
She gave herself a mental shake. “Change of subject—I found out what’s inside the puzzle box.”
“You opened it?” he exclaimed. “Show me how it works.”
“No, I x-rayed it. There’s a key inside. I haven’t figured out the whole mechanism, yet. I think I’ve got it about half solved, though. Stupid thing is built in layers—puzzle boxes nesting inside puzzle boxes. Whoever built it was freaking diabolical. Maybe you can figure out the next layer?” she asked.
“I’d love to stick around and help you, but I’ve got that interview from this morning in about fifteen minutes. I thought I’d pop down to see if you’d eaten today.”
Food? Oh, right. She glanced at the big clock on the wall over the door. It was going on three o’clock. She shrugged. “I’ll grab something when I get hungry.”
“No wonder you’re no bigger than a hamster. You don’t eat enough.”
“A hamster?” she squawked. “I remind you of a rodent?”
He grinned. “A cute, cuddly rodent that you really want to pick up and hold and pet, except it’ll bite the shit out of your hand if you try.”
“I should punch you in the stomach again.”
His grin widened. “You can try. But now that I know you’re the impulsive type, I’ll be on my guard.”
“For the record, I don’t generally run around attacking people.”
“Good to know.” He held out a paper sack. “I went to a deli for lunch, and I grabbed an extra sandwich. Just in case.”
“If that’s your afternoon snack, I’m not taking it.”
“No, Yvie. I got it for you. Jordana said corned beef on rye is your favorite. I ordered it with extra mustard and light sauerkraut, exactly the opposite of how I would order it for myself.”
“That’s perfect!” she exclaimed. “Exactly how I like my corned beef sandwiches.”
“Of course, it is,” he replied wryly.
Whoa. He’d found out what her favorite sandwich was? In her experience, men didn’t go to that kind of trouble unless they were seriously interested in a woman. “Umm, thanks.” She took the brown paper bag and smiled up at him. “This was really sweet of you.”
“I’d love to help you with that puzzle box, but I’ve got to run. Don’t forget to come up and make a report about last night.”
“I won’t.”
Except, after she ate the sandwich and went back to work on the box, time got away from her again. The next time she looked up it was nearly five o’clock. Rats. She locked the lab and hurried upstairs. Shift change was approaching, which meant not only were the day shift cops still at their desks, but the night shift guys were also milling around. She wound through the crowd to Reese’s desk. He looked up from a file and his eyes lit with pleasure.
Warmth filled her belly as she smiled back at him.
“Here to make that report?” he murmured.
“Affirmative.”
“Have a seat,” he said formally.
She perched on the hard wooden chair beside his desk, and he pushed a yellow legal pad toward her along with a pen.
“I need you to write down what happened last night at the Dexter home in as much detail as you can remember.”
“I can remember a lot of detail. I’m a forensic scientist after all.”
“Then it’ll be a long report.”
“Okay,” she said doubtfully, anticipating a bad case of writer’s cramp. Biting her lower lip, she started to write. Out of the corner of her eye, she was vaguely aware of other cops checking out what she was doing at Reese’s desk. Gradually, she became aware that Reese was starting to scowl. The longer she wrote, the grumpier his expression became. Finally, she looked up directly at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“Not at all. Continue.”
“Then why do you look ready to rip the heads off bunnies with your bare hands?”
“Bunnies? I would never!”<
br />
“You know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry about it, Yvette. Finish your statement.”
She put her head back down and wrote the last few lines, the part where Reese scared away the intruder and came upstairs to rescue her. As she laid down the pen, she heard a ripple of laughter behind her and turned to check it out. The laughter cut off abruptly, and a cluster of cops across the room looked away from her hastily, coughing conspicuously.
She looked back at Reese who did, indeed, look ready to commit homicide. “What am I missing?” she asked him under her breath.
“You’re missing some of the young guys being jackasses behind your back. Ignore them.”
“Jackasses how?”
He sighed. “They’re making faces at me because you’re sitting at my desk.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“They think you’re attractive and are harassing me about having a thing for you.”
“Oh. Well, then. I can take care of that,” she said breezily.
She stood up and moved around the corner of the desk as Reese watched her warily. Before she could lose her nerve, she took his face in both of her hands, leaned down and planted a smoking-hot kiss on him, complete with passion, heat and tongue.
Reese froze initially, but as his mouth opened against hers and she deepened the kiss, he abruptly kissed her back. His tongue sparred with hers and it was a duel to see who gave whom a tonsillectomy first. His hand came up and slid under her hair at the nape of her neck, urging her even deeper into the kiss. She melted into him, loving the way their mouths fit together, the deep, drugging suction, the carnal intensity of their lips and tongues clashing and blending.
Blood surged through her veins, her heart pounded, and honest to goodness, her knees went weak. Hot dang, that man could kiss the stripes off a zebra. She could fall into him and blissfully drown—
They were in the middle of the squad room, for crying out loud!
She tore her mouth away from his and jerked upright, panting. His hand slipped from her neck as she pulled away. For his part, Reese stared up at her, his blue eyes glazed, looking rather hectic, himself.
“Right then,” she managed to choke out. She made eye contact with him for the briefest moment and then her courage failed her. She turned and fled. It was all she could do not to break into a run as she scurried across the squad room.
But as she passed by the group of now slack-jawed beat cops, she did gather herself enough to say cheerfully, “Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. Oh, and he kisses like a god.”
She made it out into the hall before she sagged against a wall to catch her breath. When was she going to learn to control her wild impulses? Lord knew, they got her into trouble more often than not. She could not believe she’d just kissed Reese Carpenter in the middle of the squad room. And he’d kissed her back.
Thankfully, she made it all the way back to the basement without running into anyone in the hall. Her face felt as if it was on fire, and her hair was falling out of its bun where Reese hand plunged his fingers into it. She must look like a complete mess. A well-kissed, complete mess.
Oh, God. She’d just completely blown it with Reese. No way would he forgive her for embarrassing him like that. What had she been thinking? She liked him. Really liked him. He was the first man in a long time that she’d been seriously interested in, as in potential long-term relationship material. They were so different from each other, but also shockingly compatible. And she’d had to go and humiliate the man, in front of his coworkers, no less. She was the biggest idiot ever.
If possible, her cheeks burned even more.
The worst of it was she knew better. If she’d learned nothing from having three mischievous older brothers, it was not to rise to the bait when they dared her to do anything. But today, she’d taken one look at those leering cops, and it was as if they’d dared her to do something outrageous to wipe those smirks off their faces.
She ducked into a ladies’ room to redo her hair, but there was nothing to be done about the razor burn around her mouth, the faint swelling and rosy color of her lips, nor about the rather dazed look in her eyes. Enjoy it for the last time, girlfriend. Because as sure as you’re standing here, you chased that man far, far away from you.
Reese Carpenter might have a secret wild streak of his own, but not while he was at work. Never while he was on the job.
Depressed and disappointed in herself, she peered out into the hallway. All clear. Mortified, she ran for her lab, sighing in relief to make it inside without being seen by anyone.
But no sooner had the door closed behind her than her personal cell phone rang. Grimacing, she pulled it out of her pocket to see who was calling.
Jordana.
She would love to ignore the call, but her sister knew where to find her and wasn’t the sort to let go of a bone once she had it firmly between her teeth.
“Hey, sis.”
“What in the heck did you just do?”
Summoning her best innocent voice, Yvette responded, “What are you talking about?”
“You kissed Reese Carpenter? In the freaking squad room?” Her sister’s voice rose in pitch with every syllable. It was not often that Jordana Colton actually screeched.
“Oh. That. Yeah.” God, she hoped the words sounded easy-breezy. Truth was, her stomach was in a total knot, now.
“What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that the guys making fun of him and me deserved to be put in their places and shut up.”
“And you thought kissing my partner was the way to do that? Do you know nothing about cops? That kiss is already the talk of the whole department!”
Yvette closed her eyes in chagrin. Jordana was right. Police departments were as rife with gossip as any other workplace. Maybe more so. “Okay, fine. You’re right. I should have realized it wouldn’t shut anyone up.”
“I thought you two hated each other’s guts. Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?” Jordana asked suspiciously.
“God, no.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she knew them for the lie they were. Well, partially a lie. Yes, there was something going on. A truce, apparently. The mother of all truces, in fact. But no, she had no interest in her sister knowing about it.
Reese was like a brother to Jordana. Which, by default, somehow made her and Reese siblings in Jordana’s mind. At least, that was how she’d described it to Yvette some months ago when Reese and Yvette had gone through a particularly bad patch of sniping at each other, and Jordana had intervened to referee. She’d told them that she loved them both and wanted them to get along like her other siblings.
That seemed a lifetime ago. And yet, now that she thought about it, she’d thrown him out of her lab in no uncertain terms a mere two days ago. All of a sudden, there definitely was something going on between her and the man who’d driven her crazy—not in a good way—for the past year.
What was she thinking? Two days ago, she would have laughed her head off at anyone who suggested that she kiss Reese Carpenter, ever, let alone in the squad room.
“Could you dial back on kissing my partner, Yvie? Your behavior reflects on me, too, you know.”
“I’m sorry, J. I knew better. But I just got so mad when they all laughed at him and me.”
Jordana laughed a little. “It’s not as if you’ve ever had great control of your temper.”
“Gee. Thanks. Love you, too, sis.”
“Aww, c’mon, Yvie. I love you to death. But you and I both know you can fly off the handle when properly provoked.”
She sighed. “Guilty as charged. I’ll apologize to Reese the next time I see him.”
“That’s between you two. I’ll do what damage control I can. I’ll call it a joke. Make sure they all know there’s nothing going on
between you two. That you two can’t stand each other.”
“Umm, right. Sure. Thanks.”
“You’re still coming to Lou’s retirement party, right?”
“I don’t think so. Not after this—”
“Chicken.”
Coltons were a lot of things, but chickens were not one of those things. In fact, it was a long-held family tradition that no Colton ever backed away from a dare. It had gotten her and all of her siblings in trouble from time to time over the years. And apparently, it was about to get her in trouble again, now.
“Fine. I’ll go to your stupid party,” Yvette declared.
Jordana hung up before she could call the words back.
Tonight, she had to correct her sister’s mistaken impression of whatever was going on between her and Reese. Convince Jordana they were…
They were what?
Friends?
Friends with benefits?
Two people who hated each other’s guts but were wildly attracted to each other?
Heck if she knew what they were.
One thing she did know. She did hate not being completely honest with her big sister. But honestly, it was none of Jordana’s business what went on between her and Reese off duty…except that it was. Reese and Jordana were partners. They needed total trust, complete honesty, and to trust their lives to each other.
She had no right to interfere in their working relationship. She sighed and started to call Jordana back. Except a text came through to her phone that made her fingers freeze on the numbers. A text from Reese.
I’ll be down in ten minutes to get you. Be ready to go.
Gulp.
CHAPTER 8
That man could be so bossy! So infuriating! Who did he think he was, ordering her around like that?
She interrupted her own tirade with a dose of cold reality. She owed him not only an apology, but a reckoning. If he wanted to come down here and chew her up one side and down the other, he had that right. She’d acted completely inappropriately and had embarrassed him. Time to face the music for her reckless behavior.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense December 2020 Box Set Page 32
