by J. P. Bowie
“Sam Walker.”
“Hi, Sam.” The voice was nice, but he didn’t recognize it…or did he?
“Hi…uh, Justin? Do I know you?”
“Um, well…uh, you did last night.”
“Last night?” Sam searched his memory banks. I met this guy last night?
Justin laughed lightly. “Well you were kinda drunk, but I’m hurt you don’t remember me. You kissed me. Guess you don’t remember that either.”
I kissed him? He thought harder. After Martin had left—and he did remember that, some of the other guys had split too and he—that was right, he’d taken a cab over to the Blue Bar on Santa Monica.
“Uh…were you at the Blue Bar?”
“Ah, it’s starting to come back.” Justin laughed again…a nice laugh, low and throaty. “I was sitting at the bar, you came in, smiled at me, sat next to me, bought me a drink. We talked. You said you were a cop. Or was that a come-on? Are you a cop?”
“Uh, no, not a come-on. Uh, yeah I’m a cop…detective.”
“Okay, so we talked for some time. I figured at some point it was getting late and when I looked at my watch you said, ‘don’t go’, and you kissed me.”
Shit. Why couldn’t he remember? And what the hell else did he do—or rather, try to do? “Uh, wow, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry you don’t remember me or sorry you kissed me?”
“Both, I guess. Hope I didn’t come on too obnoxious.”
That laugh again…so sexy. Why can’t I put a face to it? “No, you didn’t. I said I had to go and you wanted my phone number, so we traded. After you kissed me you said, ‘call me’. So here I am, calling you.”
“And I bet you didn’t expect this kind of response. I’m sorry, Justin.”
“Don’t be, it’s okay.” His voice was gentle along with that trace of laughter. “You were kinda drunk, so…”
Sam groaned. “I’d like to make it up to you. Maybe meet for a drink sometime? I won’t put any moves on you, promise.”
“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Justin’s tone was a definite tease. “Now that you’ve offered, I would like to see you again…tonight? If that doesn’t sound too pushy.”
“Uh, can’t tonight. I’m having dinner with my partner and his family.”
“Oh, you have a partner?” Justin’s chirpy voice sounded suddenly deflated. “Then I guess this isn’t a good idea.”
“No, no…not a partner partner. Working partner.”
“Oh, okay. So what’s good for you?”
“Well, I’d like to say tomorrow night, but I’d have to call you once I know what my schedule looks like.”
“Sounds good.”
“Uh, this is going to sound crass, I know, but can you describe yourself so I know who to look for when we fix a time and place?”
Justin’s laughter was contagious. “Look in your phone, Detective. You took a selfie of us last night.”
I did? “I did?” Shit. This is beyond embarrassing. Just how hammered was I? He stared at the photograph of himself and Justin. How could I have forgotten what this hottie looks like? Curly auburn hair and a smile that would light up the darkest room…or heart.
“Wow.”
“Was that a good wow or a what-was-I-thinking wow?”
“That was a very good wow. And I look like a moron. What in hell were you thinking talking to me, anyway?”
“I thought you were cute.”
Sam laughed. “Your powers of observation are a mite faulty. Sad thing is I look even worse today.”
“How’s that possible?”
“Hey!” He laughed again. “You’re right. I promise to clean up my act for when we meet.”
“I liked what I saw the first time around and I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Oops, gotta go, Sam. Duty calls. Bye.”
“Oh, okay, bye.” Duty calls? What’s that about?
* * * *
Justin slid his cell into his pocket and jumped up from his desk when his boss barged into his office. “Where the hell are those designs, Justin?” Maria Esteban stared daggers at him. “You were supposed to have them on my desk first thing this morning. Where are they?”
“On your desk. They’ve been there since nine o’clock.” He tried to keep the irritation out of his voice, replying as calmly as he could. Why does she always have to be such a cow?
“What?” She threw an accusatory glance over her shoulder at Paula Downs, her secretary, who had ambled in behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Paula shrugged. “I thought you’d have noticed. Like Justin said, they’ve been there since nine. You were on the phone to Watson Industries. I thought you would’ve seen them then.”
“Huh. Well, I didn’t.” She glared at Justin. “You should’ve flagged them for my attention or something.”
Oh, so of course, it has to be my fault. “Maria—”
“Never mind.” She cut him off. “I’ll go look at them now, and I’ll be back with them if they’re not up to Esteban standard.”
Justin closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. When he opened them, Maria was gone and Paula was regarding him with sympathy.
“Don’t take it personally. She’s in a foul mood this morning.”
“No kidding.” He sighed. “This morning and every morning. Don’t know how much longer I can take this.”
“Don’t you even think of quitting.” Paula walked over to his desk. “Justin, you are the best we have…have ever had, if that makes sense. And she knows it too.”
“Yeah, but being the best designer of ladies’ and kiddies’ apparel is not something I want to be doing for the rest of my life.”
“I know, you want into one of the big fashion houses, and you deserve it. Just consider this a good training ground, and”—Paula grinned at him—“learning to deal with the likes of her is also good training for when you have to go rounds with real bitches.”
Justin chuckled. “You’re probably right. But what are the bets she won’t say a word about the new designs, good or bad?”
“Well, we know they’re not bad. She’ll like ’em.”
After Paula left, Justin glanced at his watch. After eleven. He could head out for lunch and deal with Maria when he got back. No point in getting upset with her. Paula was right. If he could deal with the fiery Puerto Rican lady, he could deal with just about anyone. It wasn’t a bad job. He’d had worse and had considered himself lucky when he’d been hired by Esteban Fashions. It was a step in the right direction toward the bigger fashion houses, if he could make the grade.
The coffee house on the first floor of the building that housed Esteban Fashions and a dozen or so other businesses wasn’t busy and, after ordering a tuna sandwich and a hot tea, he sat at a table near the window and cast his mind back to the night before.
He was miffed the hot cop didn’t remember him. Well, he’d been more than just a little tipsy. Still, he’d thought there might have been some semblance of a memory of the kiss he’d laid on Justin’s lips. A kiss that had stolen Justin’s breath and a piece of his mind. A great kiss and one he wasn’t going to forget anytime soon. Too bad it hadn’t had the same effect on Detective Walker.
He wondered if he’d ever hear from him again. This time the cop’s going to have to call me… He’d made the first move—now it was up to the detective to show some interest, if he had any. Maybe during the day he’d get little flashes of the time they’d spent together at the Blue Bar. It had been crazy hot, sitting there leaning into each other, Sam’s face mere inches from his own, his full lips so tantalizingly near, his smile a little off kilter from the booze, but sexy nevertheless, and that body… Muscles clearly defined under his shirt, the sleeves turned up revealing strong, slightly hairy forearms.
He was getting hard just thinking about the guy. Harder when he thought about the kiss they’d shared. Those soft, warm lips, the glide of his tongue when they’d opened to each other, the way Sam had pushed into the kiss as if he’d never w
anted it to end.
And neither did I. He could have gone on and on into the wee small hours just taking my mouth, making it his own. Dammit, but I want a repeat performance…and soon!
Chapter Two
On his way over to Martin’s house, Sam stopped by the Glendale Mall and picked up a Star Wars coloring book for Abe and a crafts embroidery kit for Sara, her latest hobby. He made sure the kit was for a six-year old and he threw in a couple of Star Wars action figures at the last minute. Abe already had quite a collection, but Sam was sure he didn’t have these two from the latest movie. Browsing the kid’s store took his mind off Justin at least for the few minutes it took to grab the stuff and head for the register.
Driving toward Martin and Liz’s home, he reflected that the guy had hardly been out of his mind all day ever since the phone call to end all phone calls. Surprised much? And how humiliating for the guy to be told nope, I don’t remember you at all. He should have called him later and told him yes, now that I’m starting to think about last night, I am remembering some things about you. About how that curly hair flopped over your brow from time to time and I’d actually had the nerve—booze-induced of course—to brush it back with my fingertips.
And I do remember that kiss. I thought it was the drinks that had made me dizzy, but it was the taste of your mouth and the warmth of your lips—and shit, now I’m getting hard for like the third time today—and that never happens—just from remembering bits and pieces of our time together. I wonder what we’d have done if I hadn’t been so hammered. Would you have come back to my place, or I to yours? Would we have made love all night or would I have been unable to do anything about it like I usually am, and you’d have sighed and said so long, Sam?
God, but I’m a mess.
He pulled up outside the McCready residence, honked the horn then grinned when Abe and Sara came running out to meet him. He loved these kids and he loved the fact that they were always so quick to hug him when he got down on his knees and held his arms open for them. He might be a rough and tough cop when needed, but he loved affection just like anybody else. And the dearth of that in his life made him a sucker for little Sara’s kisses on his cheek while Abe jumped on his back and yelled “Giddy-up!”
“Will you let Sam get in the house before you start all those shenanigans?” Martin yelled from the doorway. Sam got to his feet, carrying Sara with him and holding one of Abe’s hands so he didn’t slide off.
“Don’t know about these kids of yours, McCready. They are way too grabby.” He turned around so Martin could lift Abe off his back. Sara giggled and held on tight to his neck as he followed Martin inside. “Oh, I forgot the goody-bag. It’s in the car.” He wheeled around, spinning Sara with him. She shrieked and hung on tightly, giggling all the way to the car.
“Sam must be here,” Liz said when he re-entered, carrying a still-giggling Sara.
“Hi, beautiful.” Sam put Sara down and leaned in to kiss Liz’s cheek. Her honey-dark skin was silky smooth and, when she hugged him, her body felt soft and curvaceous. Elizabeth McCready was a beautiful woman, so gorgeous that Sam had teased Martin many times with the line, ‘How did you ever manage to persuade Liz to marry you?’
“Mmm, you smell so good,” he murmured.
“Hey, stop sniffing my wife.”
Sam chortled. “You want I should sniff you instead?”
“At your peril.”
“Unca Sam…” Abe was clinging to Sam’s leg. “Unca Sam.”
“I didn’t forget you, buddy. Here.” He handed the four-year-old the coloring book and action figures, grinning when the kid whooped and rushed away to his room.
“Say thank you,” Liz called after him.
“Thank you, Unca Sam,” Abe shouted.
Martin shook his head as Sam handed the craft kit to Sara. “I told you last time you’re spoiling them.”
“Oh, so you don’t want the wine?”
“Gimme that.”
Liz rolled her eyes when Martin grabbed the bottle and headed for the kitchen. “You look nice,” she said. “New shirt?”
Sam fingered the blue cotton polo, a recent purchase. He nodded. “Macy’s on sale.”
“Martin tells me you had quite the night out with the boys.” She took Sam’s hand and led him over to the couch.
Sam grimaced. At least his partner didn’t know about his routine at the Blue Bar, kissing a guy and taking selfies then not remembering who the heck he was. “Yeah, I kinda overdid it, I guess. I think it was just the relief of finally bringing those creeps down and knowing that those kids were going home.”
“I can’t imagine how anyone could do that to those little girls.” Liz shuddered and gazed at Sara sitting by their feet and laying out the pieces of the sewing kit.
Sam patted her hand. “I know, but at least this time we were able to get them a happy ending. Trouble is there’s more in every major city. We just have to be vigilant.”
“But those kids were taken from church, Sam. Who would ever dream of that happening?”
“Hey, Sam…” Martin called out from the kitchen. “You want some o’ this or a beer?”
“Just a half glass of wine, thanks. Gotta take it easy after last night.”
“Hair of the dog,” his partner quipped, handing him a glass. “How ’bout you, honey?”
“This is good,” Sam said, grinning.
“Smartass.”
“Martin!” Liz glared at her husband then flicked her gaze to Sara.
“Sorry. Would you like a glass of wine, dear wife?”
“I’ll wait till we eat, but you go right ahead. I still have stuff to do in the kitchen.”
“Can I help?” Sam asked.
“No. You guys sit and shoot the breeze, and…” She gave Martin the fish-eye. “Watch your language.”
Sam chuckled—his partner looked suitably cowed. He leaned back into the comfortable couch cushions and gazed around the living room. “You’ve changed some stuff,” he said.
Martin nodded. “Liz got into a redecorating mode a couple of weeks back. Changed the color of the dining room walls and hung some new drapes.”
“All by herself?”
Martin nodded again. “She is Superwoman. I said I’d pay for a painter, but she wanted to DIY. Says it relaxes her.” He took a sip of his wine then asked, “You catch the news earlier?”
“Yeah. Not often I get the feeling of a job well done, but it did feel good knowing those creeps will be behind bars for a long, long time.”
“Not long enough,” Martin growled.
“I hear ya.”
“And how come they had a picture of you and not me?”
“Dunno. Maybe they just figured I’m the prettier of the two of us.”
Martin let out a snorting laugh. “I’ll let you get away with that, but only ’cause it’s true.”
“Anyway, it’s good that we busted that bunch of lowlifes,” Sam said with relish then took a long sip of his wine.
“It makes me wonder just what the fu—I mean what‘ll be next for us to deal with.” He looked guiltily at Sara, but she was too engrossed in her craft to notice his near-slip.
“Okay, boys, to the table please,” Liz sang out. “Martin, go get Abe and make sure his hands are clean.”
“Yes, boss.”
The meal Liz had prepared was delicious and Sam kept his reputation intact by being able to have more helpings than anyone else. Abe stared at him in awe, watching him devour his third helping. As far as Sam was concerned, it was the perfect antidote for a queasy stomach.
“Sorry,” he mumbled after cleaning his plate. “Guess I took care of your leftovers.”
Liz chuckled. “My mama, if she was alive, would’ve been tickled pink to see you enjoy her meatloaf.”
Abe stretched his mouth with a gigantic yawn and Liz told Martin, “Why don’t you get the kids ready for bed while Sam helps me clear up in here?”
Martin pushed his chair back and stood. “C’mon, kids, g
ive your Unca Sam goodnight kisses then off to bed.”
Neither of them protested and Sara almost fell asleep in Sam’s arms when he held her for their goodnight kiss. “They are the best,” he told Liz as they cleared the table.
“They’re pretty good most of the time.” Liz gathered up the dinner plates and took them into the kitchen. Sam followed, carrying some of the glasses. “Just put ’em on the counter, Sam, while I stack the dishwasher.” He went out and collected the rest then watched Liz rinse some of the plates before placing them in the washer.
“So…” She dried her hands on a towel and gave Sam a meaningful look. He knew what was coming. “How’ve you been?”
“Oh, I’m sure Martin keeps you up-to-date with what we’re doing.”
“I don’t mean that.”
Of course you don’t.
“I mean your private, personal life. Not so private of course if you’re gonna tell me what you’re up to.”
“Do I have to?”
Liz chuckled. “No, but I was hoping you’d tell me you’d met someone so you could forget all about that skunk you used to hang out with.”
“Liz, I’m over him. That was two years ago.”
“And there hasn’t been anyone since?”
“No one that’s got me fired up enough to ask them for a date.”
Liz tutted. “That’s just not natural. Don’t you have needs?”
Sam laughed. “If you think I’m going to tell you about my needs, you must be crazy.”
“Oh, so you do have them, then?”
“Well, yes, when I let myself think about it, I guess.” His face felt suddenly warm as the vision of a guy with curly auburn hair and a terrific smile swam before his eyes.
“Are you all right, Sam?” Liz sounded concerned. “You’ve gone really red in the face.”
“What? No…yeah, I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, did my mentioning Daryl upset you?”
“No, not at all, but…” He glanced at his watch. “I should get going. Thanks for that great meal, Liz. Sorry I made a pig of myself…again.”
“You’re welcome. Are you sure you’re all right?”