The problem I was facing now was that I wanted Tony. But now I was beginning to doubt that he wanted me back. I knew he was attracted to me. The sexual chemistry between us was scorching hot. I wanted him to give in to the strong attraction that flared hot and heavy between us whenever we were together. I wanted to invite him into my bed, beg him to be my lover. If I did, what would he say?
I asked Alissa where he was, but she said she wasn’t at liberty to say. She said she liked Tony, but that he had issues, and she wasn’t about to become involved in whatever was going on between us.
“Tony’s the type of guy who, if pushed, he’ll just shove back,” Alissa informed me. “You can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s very stubborn and strong-willed. I hinted to him that if he needed someone to talk to, he should consider going to you. He got all defensive and denied that he needed anyone, so I dropped the subject.” Then Alissa said she was staying out of our business, and that if Tony wanted to see me, he knew where I lived. I couldn’t argue with that.
“Give him time,” she advised. “And I think he’ll eventually realize he does need you. But you’ll have to be patient. You could be waiting awhile.”
Tony never came to see me, and my frustration grew. How long should I wait for the stubborn arse to admit that the attraction between us was real?
The bounty posters were still at my apartment. When I asked Alissa if the dregs wanted them, she said the other dregs were waiting for Tony’s approval before doing anything right now. She said he was still against me being involved, and that they didn’t want to piss him off by going against his wishes. So, for now, everything hinged on Tony. I too wanted to help the dregs. But not if it pissed Tony off.
I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. Even while I was on duty patrolling the streets, resolving disputes among citizens, arresting the occasional drunk, breaking up a bar fight or two, writing out traffic tickets…Tony was constantly in my head.
Then, something happened. Something that gave me an opportunity to see Tony again.
The following Friday night, while chasing a fleeing crook down the street and into a rundown house at the end of the block, I inadvertently walked right into a meth lab. My partner, Keith, called in for backup while I raced back outside and hunkered down behind a shrub. When backup arrived, we all went in, and ended up arresting eight individuals. Then we called in a special cleaning crew to clear out the dangerous chemicals and drugs from the building. Keith was injured in the takedown, though not badly. Just a nasty cut. The police chief ordered him to go to the emergency room to have it checked out. As I was leading the remaining inhabitants from the meth house, a sound from beneath the front porch caught my attention.
I loaded the two individuals into the back of a waiting police cruiser, then went back to the house to investigate the sound from underneath the porch, thinking it might be a stray dog or cat.
Kneeling, I shined my flashlight along the length of the ground, before pausing on a movement in the far back.
A small Hispanic boy cowered beneath the porch, dirty, probably hungry, shivering from the cold October night, his eyes wild and frightened.
My heart pinched.
“Hey, little man,” I said gently. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m a cop.”
The child hesitated. “Policía?”
I nodded. “Police. Yes. I’m here to help you.” I smiled and held my hand out to him, trying not to frighten him too much.
The boy cringed back into the corner, obviously terrified. I hesitated. How could I coax him out of there?
“Do you speak English?” I asked gently.
The boy shook his head back and forth, back and forth. I wasn’t sure if he was saying he didn’t speak English or if he was just trying to block out me and everything that had happened.
I sat back and contemplated the child. How could I communicate with him?
Tony.
I don’t know why I thought of Tony first, but he would be able to communicate with the boy, whereas I couldn’t. We had a Spanish-speaking officer employed in our department, but she wasn’t working tonight and I didn’t want to wake her to come down here.
If I managed to get a hold of Tony, would he come help coax this child out from underneath the porch? I didn’t want to traumatize the boy any more than he already was. Crawling in there and dragging him out would only scare him even more. But it Tony came down and talked to the boy, then the child might be less frightened and more willing to come out.
The cleaning crew arrived, all suited up and wearing gas masks, and went into the building to clear out the meth lab. The other officers left, transporting the criminals to the jail.
I leaned back against the porch steps. Fishing my cellphone out of my pocket, I pressed Alissa’s icon. She’d gotten a new phone about a week ago and had given me the number. She said she was staying at a place that didn’t always get cellphone service, so if she didn’t answer, to leave her a message and she would call me back as soon as she could.
Luckily, she answered after the second ring. “Hi, Grace. What’s up? You on duty tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry to call you so late. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I wasn’t asleep. Nate and I were just taking a leisurely stroll in the woods.”
I smiled, imagining her and her lover strolling through the dark woods. I was envious of them. They were obviously in love and so happy together.
“Actually, I have a favor to ask you.” I told her about the meth lab bust and the boy hiding underneath the porch.
“How terrible,” she cried. “Poor thing. Are you going to take him in?”
“I don’t know. If CPS asks me to, I will. But he doesn’t speak English, or if he does, he’s not communicating with me.” I cleared my throat. “I was hoping maybe Tony would be willing to come over here and talk to the kid, see if he can convince him to come out from underneath the porch.”
A moment of silence stretched, then Alissa said, “I’m not sure if he would be willing to do that. But I can ask him. Is it okay if I give him your number so he can respond?”
“Yes, of course. Thanks, Alissa.”
I disconnected the call and glanced back underneath the porch. The boy still crouched back in the far corner, eyeing me warily. I guessed his age at maybe seven or eight, but it was hard to tell when he was hiding in the dark.
I smiled and waved at him, trying to get him to relax. The boy merely stared at me, wide-eyed and fearful. Poor child. I could only imagine what he’d gone through. Was one of his parents the owner of this meth house?
“What’s your name?” I tried again, hoping he might understand me. “I’m Grace.” I pointed at myself. “Grace.” I pointed at him and waited.
The boy didn’t answer. He just watched me without speaking. I wasn’t getting anywhere with him. He was too afraid of me. Had his parents taught him to be fearful of cops?
I called CPS next and let them know about the boy, requesting they send a Spanish-speaking person. They promised to send someone over within the hour. It was possible that Tony might not respond, so I had to find someone who could help the child.
All I could do now was wait, and try to convince the boy I was harmless and that he should come out from underneath the porch.
My phone chimed a new text.
It was from an unknown number. I hesitated, then swiped the screen.
Give me your location, and I’ll be there in a half hour.
My heart gave a hopeful thump. It had to be from Tony.
Alissa must have convinced him to come.
I responded with the address, then stuffed my phone back in my pocket.
Tony would be here in a half hour. A mixture of excitement and anticipation surged through me. I hadn’t seen him in a week. Would the chemistry that was between us be as powerful as I remembered it?
Because of the bounty on his head, I was concerned someone might recognize him. But Tony was a
smart guy. And it was still night. He would come prepared.
It was nearly four in the morning now. My shift ended at five. In another hour, I’d be at home, getting ready for bed. I texted my partner, Keith, and asked him how he was doing at the hospital. He responded that he was in the ER, waiting for treatment. I jokingly called him a wuss, and he responded that he wouldn’t even be there if the chief hadn’t made him go. Keith was a year younger than me with a wife and a two-year-old son. He was a good guy.
Tony’s black Ferrari cruised down the street exactly a half hour later. He parked a few houses down, then walked into the yard. He was wearing a black baseball cap that he’d pulled low over his eyes, helping to hide his face. Black jeans and a dark gray zip-up jacket helped him blend into the darkness. He moved stealthily forward, cautious. Alert.
The cleaning crew was still here, disposing of the meth lab, but I was the only cop still on site. No one from CPS had arrived yet to take the boy.
I rose from where I’d been sitting on the porch step.
Tony’s gaze was cautious as it raked over me. He paused a few feet away, his body tense, as if he feared something bad was about to happen. Again, he reminded me of a wild animal. Dangerous and unpredictable. His very presence sucked the breath right out of my lungs. Feck, he was so breathtakingly gorgeous. I feasted my gaze on him, taking him in. Awareness snaked through me. I wanted my hands all over him. If I invited him back to my place, would he let me touch him?
Get a grip, Grace.
I forced myself to remain professional.
“Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it.”
He jerked his head in a nod. “Where’s the kid?”
I motioned to the porch. “Hiding underneath the porch. I’ve been trying for the past thirty minutes to get him to come out, but he won’t budge. He’s terrified. I don’t think he speaks English.”
Tony hesitated, then waved me forward. “Show me.”
I knelt on the ground and motioned underneath the porch. Tony joined me, his body close, his shoulder brushing against mine as he peered under the porch steps. Sexual awareness crackled between us, so thick it hung over us like a heavy fog. It was difficult to concentrate with him so close, his body heat flowing into mine, his clean, masculine scent teasing my nostrils.
Tony eyed the boy, then glanced at me and nodded. I leaned back to give him more room, then peered around his shoulder as he spoke to the child.
“Qué pedo?” he said to the boy.
The boy hesitated, his gaze darting to me, then back to Tony. “No mucho.”
“Tienes hambre?” Tony asked.
The boy nodded eagerly.
Tony slipped a hand into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out an unopened strip of beef jerky. He held it out to the boy, waiting. The child eyed the food hungrily, then glanced warily at me.
“Está bien,” Tony said quietly. “Ella no te hará daño. Policía.”
“What are you saying?” I asked Tony.
He flicked a glance at me. “I said what’s up? And he said not much. I asked if he was hungry, then he glanced at you. I told him it was okay, you wouldn’t hurt him. You’re a cop.”
Caught in his dark stare, I couldn’t look away.
He turned back to the boy. They communicated in Spanish for several more minutes before the boy finally began inching toward us, his eyes locked on the strip of jerky. The poor kid was probably starving.
I glanced at Tony questioningly. “What’d you say to convince him to come over here?”
Tony answered without looking at me, keeping his gaze on the boy. “I told him if he came out of there, we would get him to a safe place, and that he would never go hungry again.”
Tears burned my eyes. I blinked rapidly, reaching over to touch his arm. “That was nice of you.”
He tensed beneath my touch, the thin fabric of his jacket doing little to hide the hard muscles beneath my fingers. Tony didn’t like human touch. I wasn’t sure why. He’d never explained the reason. But I had plans to change that, if at all possible. I was a touchy, feely person. I liked expressing my feelings by holding hands and cuddling close and wrapping my arms around my man’s waist. If I could somehow convince Tony to open up and let me in, then I would show him how nice human touch really was.
Foolish dreams, Grace. That will probably never happen.
I shoved the thought aside. I wasn’t giving up. I wanted Tony. And somehow I’d find a way to have him.
At last, the boy reached Tony, eyeing the food hungrily, then glanced at me.
“Está bien,” Tony repeated gently. “Ella no te hará daño. Policía.”
The boy reached for the jerky, snagging it, and darted back. Keeping a safe distance from us, he tore the plastic wrapper free, and bit off a large chunk of the processed beef snack, chewing hungrily. He bit off another piece, and another, practically inhaling the food. The entire strip of jerky was gone within a few seconds.
My heart twisted. I couldn’t imagine being so hungry.
Moments later, Tony somehow convinced the boy to come out from underneath the porch and sit next to him on the steps. He removed something else from his jacket pocket.
A deck of cards.
I sat back, fascinated, and watched while Tony entertained the kid with several different magic tricks for the next ten or fifteen minutes.
My heart melted in that moment, seeing him being so kind and patient with the boy. The more I watched him interacting with the child, the more intrigued I became. And the more determined I was to know him. To learn what made him tick. To see the man underneath. Would he ever open up to me?
The social worker showed up a few minutes later. She spoke to the boy in Spanish, then gently took his hand and led him to her car. She promised to give me an update later after the boy had been checked out at the hospital.
“Te veo, chico!” Tony called to the boy. Then, “Hey! Cómo te llamas?”
The boy paused, turning back to us. “Me llamo Antonio.”
Tony’s brow shot up. “No! Me llamo Antonio!”
The boy’s eyes widened. He blinked, then a slow smile spread across his face. “De Verdad?”
“Si.”
The child nodded, looking pleased. Whatever Tony had said to the boy seemed to have made the kid happy.
Tony and I watched them drive away.
“What did you say to him there at the end?” I asked curiously.
Tony watched as the car’s taillights disappeared down the dark street. “I asked him what his name was and he said Antonio. I said no, my name’s Antonio! He said really? And I said yes.”
My chest squeezed with emotion. Feck. I was falling for Tony. Hard. He pretended to be cold and unfeeling, but he obviously wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have come here tonight and helped that child. He’d been so patient with the boy. So gentle. So kind. I came to the decision then that I wasn’t letting him go. Come hell or high water, I was going to win him over. He was going to be mine.
“I think you’ve made a friend for life. Thank you for coming here and doing that.”
He jerked his head in a nod, looking uncomfortable.
Silence stretched between us.
“My shift will be over in fifteen minutes,” I blurted. “If you want to come over.”
I watched him closely, awaiting his response.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. He turned to face me. “Is that an invitation?”
Nerves fluttered in my stomach. If I said yes, would he take me up on it? If I invited him into my bed, would he join me there?
I held his gaze without flinching. “Yes.”
His gaze traveled boldly down my body clad in my black police uniform, then came back to rest steadily on mine.
“Then I accept.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tony
What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d managed to stay away from the woman for an entire week, but the moment she calls Alissa and asks for my help, I
run to her like a love-sick puppy. And then, to make matters worse, I’d just agreed to meet her at her house in fifteen minutes.
This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Nothing but trouble would come from this. If I went over there, I had no idea what I might do. I didn’t trust myself not to touch her. I couldn’t seem to resist her. If she invited me into her bed, I didn’t know if I could say no.
Nate’s words came back to me then: She obviously has feelings for you.
I wasn’t sure about that. Grace only wanted me in her bed.
So why are you resisting? Give her what she wants.
He’d said that, too. And he had a point. Why was I resisting? If she’d been a prostitute like I’d first thought, I would have already fucked her. But Grace was so far above that, so far above me.
I didn’t deserve her. I would never be good enough for her. I didn’t have the right to even look at her, let alone touch her.
I want you.
I raked a hand through my hair, once, twice, then glanced at myself in the rearview mirror.
Had she meant that? Did she really find me attractive?
I scowled at myself, then looked away. Goddammit. I should just head back to the maze.
Stay far away from her.
But Grace’s pull on me was too strong. I couldn’t resist the chance to be with her. Even for a second. I missed the verbal sparring, the constant battle of wills between us. I hadn’t earned my place in her bed yet. I hadn’t earned the right to touch her. The fact that she’d invited me to her home didn’t mean I deserved to be there. But it gave me hope. Maybe—just maybe—she really wanted me. And if she did, how would I respond? What would I do? I didn’t know the answer to that, and it scared the shit out of me.
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