by Vanessa Vale
“It’s more than fucking biological, baby. It’s because it’s right,” I murmured, licking the delicate spot.
I was the one who groaned, who was lost in this. In her.
“Hey, Nix and the other detective are here to talk to Sam,” Mac said, barging into the room.
He’d startled Sam, who lifted her head to look at him. She’d tensed with the surprise but didn’t move from my hold.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he added, shutting the door behind him. “Shit, I’m hard now. How am I going to go back out there?”
11
HARDIN
* * *
Sam giggled and I loved that sound.
I had a pliant, willing woman in front of me, my hands cupping her tits beneath her sweatshirt. I felt like a teenager making out, caught by a parent. This time I wasn’t embarrassed, and I didn’t mind that Mac had found us.
“Who?” Sam asked. She pushed her glasses up her nose, and I was surprised they weren’t fogged up. The fact that she hadn’t tried to push my hands away from her tits showed just how hot she’d gotten.
“Two detectives. One’s a friend of ours. I called them to take a report on the break-in and the tire.”
I felt her tense beneath my palms, and I let my hands fall away. My dick was hard, too, but it wasn’t getting inside her until she talked to the cops.
Mac held out his hand. She took it and went out into the other room. I followed, only after I took a minute to will my dick down, then adjusted myself so I could walk right.
By the time I joined them, introductions had been made. Nix was a few years younger than me and Mac. He’d started off in uniform and had obviously moved up to detective. He and Donovan Nash, the former assistant DA, were dating Kit Lancaster.
“This is Miranski, my partner,” Nix said.
I shook her hand. “I’m Hardin.”
She was in her thirties, tall, with dark hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. She wore jeans with leather boots and a black fleece jacket with the police department logo on the chest. “Hi,” she said in greeting.
“So, Sam, tell us what’s going on with you,” Nix said.
Sam indicated everyone should sit down. Nix and Miranski—no one had offered up her first name—sat on one couch, Mac, Sam and I on the other across from them. A sleek coffee table was between us. Sam’s apartment was decorated simply, without any photos or other personal touches. I had to wonder if it was a rental that had come furnished. It didn’t matter; she wasn’t living here for long. Not another night if Mac and I had our way.
Which we would. After what we’d done earlier, she would be in bed, between us.
“Someone slashed my tire at the hospital yesterday. Today, when I got home, I found things moved around.”
While she’d been succinct and to the point, the detectives liked details. When prompted, she elaborated. Miranski got up and, after she got Sam’s permission, looked around the apartment.
“Got any enemies?” Nix asked. “An old boyfriend who didn’t think things should end?”
Sam shook her head. A surge of jealousy made my fists clench. I didn’t want another guy to even look her way, let alone get close to her. I’d been her first, though, and that made me inwardly sigh, to cool my fucking jets. I’d opened up that pussy, saw the look on her face when I got in her. That was a gift I’d cherish forever. The fact that I’d shared it, shared her, with Mac made it that much fucking better.
“No old boyfriends. I’m a doctor. I guess it could be a past patient, but they usually sue, not stalk.”
Miranski returned and took her seat again. Nix gave her a look, and she took over.
“We’ve been investigating the murder of Erin Mills,” she said.
Sam nodded. “I’ve read about it in the paper. I… I operated on Dennis Seaborn, so gossip spread through the hospital about his involvement.”
Holy shit. I wondered if she’d talked with Cy.
“Wow, okay,” Miranski said. Sam’s words had surprised the detective. “We’re a little concerned here because you look a lot like Erin. Blonde, pretty, similar age.”
I abruptly stood up, ran my hand over my beard. “Holy shit. You think she’s being stalked by a murderer? Because she operated on Cy’s dad?”
Nix and Cy Seaborn were the same age. I’d had a few beers with them over the years. Cy ran the Flying Z Ranch, and his dad had admitted to killing Erin Mills. Turned out, he’d lied about it and had recently died of complications from pancreatic cancer. I had no idea why he’d turned himself in for something he didn’t do, and I wasn’t sure if Cy knew the reason. If Nix and Miranski were aware, they weren’t saying.
I knew Lucas Mills, but not his sister, Erin. She’d been closer to Sam’s age than mine. Her picture had been all over the media, and I knew Miranski was right, there was a strong resemblance between Erin and Sam.
Mac turned toward Sam. “You said you were having problems with a coworker.”
She frowned, shrugged. “Yeah, but they’re HR problems.”
“Like what?” Nix asked.
Sam sighed. “He’s forward. Tries to get me alone. Says he wants to talk about my performance over dinner. I’ve politely declined, but he’s insistent. Yesterday he threatened my job. Put his hand on me. Pressed into me when I was at my locker in the doctors’ lounge. He was, well, aroused.”
What. The. Fuck?
“That’s what you were upset about when you met us in the lot?”
She nodded.
"Seriously? That’s sexual harassment,” I told her. Why did guys have to be such assholes? “Did you report him to HR?”
“Yes, several times, but they say he hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Pressing his hard dick into you?” I repeated. “That’s so fucking wrong.”
She stared up at me, wide-eyed, then looked toward the detectives.
“He couldn’t have done this, though,” she said.
“Why’s that?” Miranski asked.
“Because, like I told you guys yesterday, he was with me in surgery for most of the day. He could have slipped out and slit my tire, but he would have been seen. People know him there.”
“And today? The break-in?” Miranski asked, waving her finger in the air, indicating Sam’s apartment.
“Everything was fine when I left my apartment this morning. He was at the hospital then… I know this because he came up to me right after I walked in.”
“Was he the one who told you about my past?” Mac asked, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs.
She blushed as she gave a quick glance at the detectives. “He saw us… um, kissing goodbye when you dropped me off. I think he did it because he was mad about that.”
They didn’t even blink at her words. I was damned sure they’d heard racier things than kissing.
“What an asshole,” Mac muttered.
“I was with him most of the day, in back-to-back surgeries,” she continued. “I left before he did because a patient in the ICU had to go back in for emergency surgery and he was the lead. There’s no way he could have gotten over here, broken in and messed with things, then returned to work.”
“Have you seen him outside of the hospital?” Nix asked.
She shook her head. “No. I’ve never run into him at the grocery store or anything, and I’ve definitely never invited him here. As far as I know, he doesn’t know where I live.”
Miranski took notes on a little notepad as Sam spoke.
““I haven’t done anything to lead him on. I mean, look at me. There are other women at the hospital who are more attractive, more his age, who would love to date a doctor. I… I think I’m a conquest for him,” she admitted, glancing down at her hands in her lap.
No shit.
“I’ve heard from other women on staff that he makes his rounds, and I don’t mean with patients. I always turn him down, and I don’t think he likes being told no.”
“Have you dated anyone else from the hos
pital?” Miranski asked. “Perhaps he thinks he’s got a shot since you went out with others.”
Sam looked to the detective. “No. No one’s asked and well, there’s no one there who interested me. I haven’t even gone out for fun with other women I work with. I’m… I’m not very social.”
“You’re dating Mac then?” Nix asked.
Sam’s face flamed, and she licked her lips.
“And me,” I said. She was new to all this, and she’d jumped right into the fucking deep end. She’d started off her dating life with not just one guy but two. I wasn’t ashamed. Hell, it was going to take both of us to keep Sam satisfied. Once she found her way around two dicks, she was going to be insatiable, especially since she had a lot of catching up to do.
Nix wouldn’t judge. Hell, he and Donovan had claimed Kit together. He knew what it was like. I didn’t know Miranski’s dating history, but if she was partners with Nix, she no doubt knew about his love life.
Sam’s cell rang, and she stood up and went to grab it from the kitchen counter. “Excuse me, I’m on call and have to answer that.”
She answered it, spoke with someone for less than thirty seconds, then put the phone down. “I’ve got to go,” she said, grabbing her boots by the door and bringing them to the couch to put on. “Multi-vehicle accident on the highway, probably a ruptured spleen. If that’s the case, I have to operate.”
Mac stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I’m sorry for rushing out, but I have to be at the hospital within ten minutes of receiving the call.”
Yeah, saving a life was something we were going to get annoyed about.
All of us stood. I went to her, gave her a quick kiss. Not the best time for an emergency when her life was a clusterfuck itself. She wasn’t alone now though. “Go. We’ll lock up.”
She nodded once, then left with Mac.
“Sam’s off-limits,” I told Nix and Miranski as I went around and shut off the lights. “The fucker’s going to have to get used to the idea he doesn’t have a shot. He’ll have to get through Mac and me.” No meant no, and I hated douchebags who didn’t listen. This one sounded like a piece of work. If he wouldn’t back off Sam, then he’d listen to me and Mac—or our fists.
“What’s this guy’s name?” Miranski asked.
I came out of Sam’s bedroom and paused. “Shit, I don’t know.”
We left the apartment, and I confirmed the door was locked behind us. We met Mac out on the sidewalk where the cold wind cut along the back of my neck.
“Did she tell you what the asshole at work’s name is?” I asked him.
“Nope.”
I pulled my cell from my pocket, called her. “Hey, baby, what’s the name of the guy from work who’s giving you trouble?”
“Hi… oh, um… Dr. Mark Knowles,” she said.
I pulled the phone away from my ear, stared at it for a second.
“Hardin?” I could hear her voice through the phone and reengaged. Barely.
“Yeah,” I snapped, looked down at the sidewalk.
Fuck. Me. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut with a steel-toed boot.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Do you know the guy?”
I looked to Mac, who was waiting for the answer.
“Yeah, I fucking know the guy.”
Nix and Miranski eyed me.
“He’s my brother.”
12
MAC
* * *
“Do you think it’s true?” Hardin asked as we climbed from his truck in the diner lot.
After we’d left Sam’s apartment, we’d gone back to the shop to work but didn’t say much. My best friend was a thinker, and I knew when not to talk. I had no idea what to say anyway, stuck in my own fucking thoughts. I’d walked Sam to her car, kissed her goodbye, but she was not only in a rush to get to the hospital but was stuck on everything the detectives had stirred up. She hadn’t known Hardin and the guy who was fucking with her were related, and now that she knew… she couldn’t be with us to work it out. She had to go deal with a busted spleen.
It was a total shit show I wasn’t sure how to get out of. I couldn’t fucking believe it was Mark who was putting the moves on her. He was a total man whore, but he was all about consent. Or so I’d thought. I believed Sam, but I’d known Mark my whole life. He’d left for college when Hardin and I were in elementary school, so the two of them had reconnected and begun to really hang out after Hardin finished college and moved back to Cutthroat. Still, that had been over a decade of time to get to know someone. Or at least we’d thought we’d known him.
Or we’d thought we’d known Sam.
Jesus.
“I have no fucking idea,” I replied, running a hand over the back of my neck as we strode toward the diner’s entrance.
Hardin knew Mark would be at the diner at three, supposedly to try and hook up with their breakfast waitress from this morning. Hardin wasn’t a texter, and for this mess he wanted to have a little chat with his brother face-to-face.
This was a total kick to the gut because it was a no-win situation. Mark was an asshole, or the woman we were falling for was a liar. Either way we were screwed.
And Hardin? I’d never seen him so fucking messed up. The guy who’d been fucking with our woman was Mark. His fucking brother. I tried to put together the laid-back guy we drank beers with and the handsy fucker Sam had described.
It was hard to believe. Mark was a womanizer, no question, but was he a chauvinistic asshole who crossed the line? Why would Sam lie? She had no clue about men—that was blatantly obvious—and being talked to inappropriately, fuck, touched inappropriately, it would have freaked her out. But HR didn’t buy her allegations, so either that made them exaggerations or the hospital’s HR sucked. She’d been alone her whole life, and if HR ignored legitimate claims, then she must have felt even more isolated.
She’d learned of my time in juvie from the guy who’d been messing with her, which meant Mark. Yeah, he’d known about all that. She’d said he’d seen us kiss when I dropped her off this morning and had tossed my past out there to push us apart. That meant Mark had sabotaged me and Sam. Because he wanted her for himself?
To make it even worse and a fuck-ton scarier, Nix had pointed out how much Sam looked like Erin Mills. Did Mark have a thing for blondes? Had he been involved with Erin and it had gotten out of hand?
The idea of Mark sexually harassing women was bad enough, but the fact that Nix even made the connection to a murder… holy fuck.
And that didn’t even cover the slashed tire or the break-in. Was that Mark, too, and if so, how?
My head was fucking spinning. Who to believe, the woman we wanted or family? Sam had given her side, so it was time for Mark’s.
Nix and Miranski wanted to talk with Mark, but Hardin planned to get to him first. We pushed open the diner’s entry door, then searched left and right down the long line of booths.
And there he was, in the back corner. Just as Hardin had expected, a woman sat across from him, but her back was to us. A blonde.
I followed Hardin, and Mark smiled when he caught sight of us.
He stood, gave Hardin a man hug and a slap on the shoulder. “Twice in one day? Join us. You remember Sarah, right?”
Mark dropped back into the booth, but instead of sitting across from Sarah, sat next to her, forcing her to slide in farther.
Hardin took Mac’s old spot, and I grabbed a chair from a nearby empty table and swung it around.
“I just found out you know a friend of ours,” Hardin said.
“Oh?” He slung an arm along the back of the booth, his fingers brushing Sarah on the neck. “Who?”
“Samantha Smyth.”
His smile slipped a little, but I had to give it to him. He was as cool as a fucking cucumber.
“Excellent doctor.”
“Really?” Hardin asked, leaning forward so his arms rested on the table. He pushed Mark’s coffee mug out of the way.
“She said you’ve got issues about her performance you want to discuss.” He paused, then added, “Over dinner.”
Sarah suddenly looked uncomfortable.
“I’m sure she was mistaken,” Mark replied.
With that response, I had my answer. Holy fuck. Mark was a lying sack of shit. He’d done everything Sam had said.
Hardin pressed on. “So it was just a stethoscope in your pocket when you pressed up against her?”
Sarah squirmed, brushing Mark’s hand away. “I think… I think I need to go.”
Mark looked to her, sighed, but climbed from the booth to let her out. She scurried away without saying another word or offering a backward glance. The woman, as far as I was fucking concerned, had lucked out.
Mark sat back down, gave us his patented grin. “You two are total cockblockers.”
“You’ve got a thing for blondes,” Hardin commented, lifting his chin to indicate the way Sarah had fled.
He shrugged. “Every guy has a type.”
Yeah, mine was a curvy genius with glasses who had a thing for lingerie and sexy toys.
“Did you tell Sam about my past because you want her for yourself?” I asked.
Hardin remained quiet, kept his gaze on Mark.
A waitress came up, not Sarah. “Would you like menus or coffee?” she asked.
I looked up at her, smiled. “No, thanks. We’re not staying long.”
She nodded, then left.
Mark was dressed as if he belonged at the Cutthroat Country Club. Crisp pants, dress shirt, a fucking sweater. In a flannel, Hardin looked like he’d just come from cutting trees in the woods. I had on jeans and a black T-shirt. Definitely the bad boy of the bunch. But I didn’t fuck with women.
“Dr. Smyth is an impressionable woman,” Mark began. “You do know she finished medical school at twenty-two? She needs guidance, someone to show her the ropes.”
“And that’s you,” I said.