by L. A. Fiore
She’d been so young.
“If we assume Jason was her age, or even a decade older, he’d be late fifties to mid-to-late sixties now. We focus on the players who are in that age bracket and run background checks to see if anything shakes out.”
That was a lot of fucking busy work, but we didn’t have any other choice. “Okay.” I said, moving to my chair. “I’m going away this weekend. Out Thursday through Tuesday, but I’ll bring my laptop, can run the searches on vacation.”
I felt Zac’s eyes on me, before he said, “You’re going on vacation. Have aliens landed?”
I knew he wasn’t going to make it easy. “I just need a break.”
“You could definitely use one. Don’t worry about taking your laptop. I’m just surprised you’re agreeing to taking the break. Where are you going?”
It was the promise of another weekend like this last one that had me agreeing. I didn’t think that was necessary to share. “Not sure.”
“Just going to wing it?” he asked.
I dropped my arms on my desk and met his inquisitive stare. “I’m going away with Kade Wakefield.”
Silence followed that announcement, before Zac leaned back in his chair. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“He’s not involved in the case. We’ve already crossed him off the list. He’s not in his mid-fifties to late-sixties, so, yeah, there’s no reason for me not to see him.” That wasn’t entirely true.
Zac knew that, too. Kade could be shady, and I was a cop. He didn’t point that out; instead, he said, “You and Kade don’t exactly move in the same circle.”
Anger made my next words sharp. “Well, he’s slumming.”
“I was thinking the other way around,” Zac said. My head jerked around. “Just be careful.”
My anger instantly faded, and I replied sincerely, “I will.” I turned to my computer. “Okay, so we run checks on all those involved in both the case and the CyberTech project. That’s going to take a while.”
“Yeah, good thing there’s no statue of limitations on murder.”
Kade and I were going away, and I wanted to bring something, so I stopped at Sweet Escape on Fifth Avenue because I hadn’t gotten those sticky buns out of my head. I meant to stop in the morning, but work got in the way. I was happily surprised to learn they baked them all day.
I ordered two dozen, some to eat, some to give to Ethan and some to freeze for Kade and my weekend.
I heard my name, as I waited for the young woman to box my lovelies, and turned to see an elderly man. Recognition was immediate. “Mr. Rothschild, how are you?”
He closed the distance and smiled. “The sticky buns,” he guessed correctly.
“Yes. They’re the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“I agree. I eat far more than my doctor likes, but they’re just too good.” He stepped to the counter. The woman greeted him my name. After he ordered, he turned back to me.
“How’s the case?”
“Complicated.”
“Murder often is.”
I didn’t want to discuss the case because that was a sure-fire way to a headache, so instead, I said, “I’ve been seeing the coverage on the CyberTech announcement, saw you were one of the investors. How exciting.”
“It is, isn’t it? I thought I was in a movie the first time they showed me. The lives this discovery is going to change was worth every cent invested.”
I could just imagine how much it cost, but he was right for a discovery like that, there was no dollar value too high.
“You should come to the launch. It’s going to be a grand affair. I’ll send you an invita—” He stopped talking, and his cheeks turned pink. “Perhaps that’s overstepping.” I didn’t understand until he clarified, “If the social column is to be believed, you and Kade Wakefield.” We were in the social column? Holy shit. “I’ll send the invitation anyway, though, I suspect, if he’s as smart as I know he is, you’ll be on his arm for the event.”
It sounded magical, another fairy tale moment, but it was still so new between us. To Sinclair, I simply said, “Thank you.”
His man stepped into the shop. “Sir.”
“Yes, Joshua,” he said, and waved his hand.
“You’d think at my age I could slow down.” He reached for his boxes. “It was nice seeing you, Detective.”
“And you.”
“Keep your eyes out for the invite.”
“I will, and thank you.”
I watched as he climbed into his Bentley, before my attention was pulled when they called my order. I ate two sticky buns before I even got home.
That night, I called my dad. “Hey, Molly, sweetheart, how are you?”
“Hey, Dad. I’m good.” Salem joined me on the sofa. “You and Mom still planning your trip?” I teased.
“If we ever get there,” he said, and chuckled.
“I just wanted to call because I’m going away for the weekend. I’m not sure how the cell reception will be, and I don’t want you to worry if you try to reach me and can’t.”
“You’re taking a vacation?” he asked incredulously. “When has that ever happened?”
“I’m actually going with a friend.”
I waited. He didn’t disappoint. “A friend? Do I know this friend?”
“Know of,” I replied, before adding, “Kade Wakefield.”
Silence followed for a few very long seconds. “The Kade Wakefield?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going on vacation with Kade Wakefield. Didn’t I just talk to you a few weeks ago?”
“I know. It’s all happening kind of fast.”
“What’s happening?”
“I’m falling, Dad.” And I was. Falling and fast and it felt incredible. “He wasn’t on my radar. I knew of him, but then I met him, interviewed him for a case, and now, I’m falling.”
“And he’s taking you away?”
“Yes. I’ve never felt like this. And I’ve tried. I’ve dated, but I just never connected, but with him, it was immediate.”
“And he feels it, too.” He wasn’t asking. “A warning…be careful. I know you’re a cop, but I’m thinking of your heart. You’re a great judge of character, but this is Kade Wakefield. Before you fall all the way, make sure he’s there to catch you.”
He would be. I knew that down to my bones, but to my dad, I said, “I will.”
Silence again, before he added, “You sound happy and that alone makes me happy. Have a good trip.”
“Thanks. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you.”
Twelve
Kade’s car pulled up in front of Molly’s apartment. She was already outside. Dressed in shorts and a tee, her hair in a ponytail. Kade recalled the video of Molly taking down that meth head, but seeing her now, she looked like a college kid going on Spring Break, the many sides of Molly Donahue.
He climbed from the car, and she smiled, even looked a little nervous, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hey,” she said, coming down the steps to join him on the curb.
“Good morning,” he took her suitcase and handed it to Levy before he gestured to the open door. He climbed in after her. She was touching the soft leather seats and remembering her hands touching him like that had his jeans growing a little tight.
“So where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Her eyes darkened, curious and a little frustrated. It was a good look. She turned in her seat, and there was so much going on behind her eyes. “Jason Benjamin doesn’t exist.”
That got his attention. “Come again?”
“Yep, fabricated. He first appeared right before he started dating Katrina.” Her expression changed. He didn’t care for the shadows behind her eyes now.
“What’s wrong
?”
“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you, but I want to. It feels…” Her focus turned to the window.
He touched her chin and brought her gaze back on him. “You have a habit of doing that, not completing sentences.”
“Natural,” she said. “It feels natural.”
He kissed her, long and deep, before he broke the kiss and held her heated gaze. “So does that.”
She touched her lower lip with her tongue and, fuck, but he wanted her, right the fuck now.
“I’m a cop,” she said, out of the blue.
“I’m aware.”
“You’re Kade Wakefield.”
He couldn’t help the grin because, for such a confident woman, he liked that he made her a little insecure. “Last time I checked.”
“An odd match,” she said.
He knew what she was thinking; he’d already been thinking the same. They had no business together; it was doomed from the start, and, yet, here they were going away together because a man who prided himself on control had none when it came to her. That alone was a huge fucking warning sign.
“We give ourselves the weekend,” he said.
Another shadow drifted over her expression. He didn’t like it, so he kissed her, ran his hands over her body. He didn’t fuck her, but he pleasured her until that shadow was gone.
They reached the airstrip, and she didn’t hide her surprise. “We’re taking a plane. I’ve never been on a private plane.”
He helped Levy with the bags, then reached for Molly’s hand and pulled her onto the plane. As soon as they were seated, they taxied. There were no attendants because he wanted the privacy.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, after they reached altitude. Her focus was out the window.
“This is amazing. No waiting.” Her gaze swung around to him. “You’ve ruined me for commercial flights.” She grinned. “Sure, I’ll have a drink.”
He made her a lava flow, fitting given where they were going.
He poured himself three fingers of whiskey.
She joined him. “What is that? It looked delicious.”
“Coconut, strawberries, pineapple and rum.”
She took a sip, and, damn, he liked the expression that followed. “So good.”
She really thought so because she had two. The nerves she’d been feeling were gone. She moved around the cabin, talking. He liked how she moved, liked how she did everything with passion, from working out the details of her case, to eating the light lunch he had prepared.
“Come here,” he said from his seat.
He liked that, too. She didn’t question, just closed the distance between them. She knew what he was thinking when her eyes grew dark. Then she shimmied out of her shorts and his cock, already at attention from watching her, grew harder. He worked at his jeans, freeing his cock. Her gaze drifted down, her tongue appearing, as she ran it along her lower lip.
“Climb on,” he ordered.
Again with that passion, she straddled him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He grabbed his cock; she held his hard stare and lowered herself onto him.
“Fuck,” he moaned. Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, a groan moved up her throat and passed between her parted lips. She rode him; his fingers found her clit, his focus on her face, as she moaned breathlessly, until she came, calling out his name when she did. His hips continued moving, drawing out the pleasure, before he pushed her down on his cock and groaned out his own release.
He brought her to his private island on Antigua. After dropping their belongings off, he took her for a sail. His Tartan 3700 sailboat was anchored just offshore. Molly was at the bow, wearing a white bikini, one of his shirts over it, her dark hair blowing in the breeze. Fuck, she was beautiful. Possession moved through him, something he knew he shouldn’t feel, but, fuck, he wanted her and not just to fuck.
He watched her navigate the deck to join him. “Did you learn to sail in Montenegro?”
“Yes.”
He studied her profile, watched how it changed when she smiled. “I’d never leave here,” she said. Her eyes found his. “How often do you come here?”
“Not as often as I’d like.”
Silence settled between them, with only the sound of the water lapping at the hull. It was some time later when Molly asked, “How did you go from working at the dive shop to owning it?”
And that was the elephant that had been in the room with them from the beginning. He’d taken the shop and not by legal means. He’d do it again, the owner had been a real sadistic prick, but it was the line in the sand, the one that pitted her against him, even if both wanted it otherwise. He didn’t answer her, and his lack of answering was all she needed.
They were in the skiff heading back to shore when she said, “Thank you.” Her eyes found his. “We’ve only just gotten here, but it’s already the best vacation I’ve ever been on.”
As soon as they entered his house, she started for the bedroom, looking back at him, when she dropped his shirt on the floor. He pushed his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t reach for her because he was enjoying the show. She turned, walked backwards and pulled at the string for her bikini top. Her breasts sprung free, her top joined his shirt. She bit her lip, as she reached for the string to the bottoms. She knew like he did, they were only going to get the weekend. She didn’t want to waste a second of it either. She disappeared into the bedroom; her hand appeared to drop her bottoms on the floor.
He was across the room seconds later.
Kade studied Molly, as she looked at postcards. Her floppy sunhat was shielding her face. His focus drifted down her body to the white sundress she was wearing, though he knew every curve of her body, because he’d explored them in detail.
Her pale skin had a beautiful glow, kissed by the sun with no tan lines, because they had spent the first two days of their vacation on his private beach, where he insisted, she sunbathe in the nude. It was convenient because those days were spent fucking with breaks for eating.
He was playing with fire when it came to her. His well-honed control slipped around her. He reacted more on instinct than deliberation. He could acknowledge it was the combination of those big blue eyes and the intelligence behind them, coupled with the hard edge of the detective and the soft and sweet of the woman.
She had no idea the effect she had on him. Had no idea he’d never brought a woman to his sanctuary, the place he retreated when he needed to get away. He wanted her here, wanted to see how she fit. And she did, just like she fit him; every soft curve molding to his hard lines like pieces of a puzzle slipping together.
Her head tilted back, and she laughed, drawing his attention to her throat. Their first night together, when he showed up at her apartment, she hadn’t held back, had loved like she seemed to do everything, without hesitation. She looked over, those blue eyes were wide and not at all shuttered. They warmed, before she walked to him, her fingers curling around the waistband of his jeans. “What?” she asked, as she studied him.
He didn’t answer with words, but held her chin, lifted her mouth and kissed her. Her lips parted, his tongue slipped inside to taste her. She moaned, pressed closer. He broke the kiss, saw desire in those pools of blue. “Hungry?”
“Always,” she whispered.
He kissed her again. “Food.”
“Hmm…okay.”
He reached for her hand, something he’d never done with a woman, but with her, it was just natural. She had a way of pressing against his side when they walked, like she wanted to feel as much of him as she could. He wasn’t complaining because he liked feeling her soft body against his.
They passed a cove, and she stopped. He turned his focus on what caught hers. “How sweet is that,” she said, the softness that entered her expression caught him in the chest. There were little kids, snorkels in hand, waiting
to swim with the fish. “I think that’s what I’d do if I lived here. Teaching the little ones the joys of the sea.” She looked up at him, and her expression took his breath because, for as streetwise as she was, she was a fucking New York City homicide detective for fuck’s sake, there was an innocence about her that stole his breath. “Can you imagine a more appreciative audience?”
He kissed her, needed to taste a little of that innocence, because he’d never been innocent. And as was her way, she pressed into him and kissed him back, without hesitation. When he broke the kiss, she asked, “What was that for?”
He didn’t answer because he wasn’t sure he was capable of words. Instead, he ran his thumb over her cheek, then reached for her hand, pulling her close, and continued their walk.
They were seated at an outdoor restaurant. “I’ve never been to the Caribbean. It really is as beautiful as the pictures,” Molly said, taking it all in.
“Do you want a drink?” He liked watching her. Every thought she had was seen in her eyes. He knew she could hide them, had witnessed that during their first interview, but she wasn’t hiding them now.
“Yes, a lava flow,” she said, remembering their time on the plane.
His lips tipped up at the memory. “And to eat?” he asked.
“You pick,” she said. “You know what I like.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on him.
She bit her lower lip, and, fuck, he had half a mind to pull her onto the table and fuck her senseless.
“Very well, I’ll order for you.” He waited because he’d learned that Molly liked to share.
She didn’t disappoint when she said, “Whatever we get, we should go halfsies.”
He’d never in his life shared his food, but he enjoyed watching her. Like with everything, she ate with a passion. No counting calories for Molly Donahue. If she wanted it, she ate it. “I suppose I could share,” he teased.
The look she gave him was part sweet and part seductress. Maybe she did know the effect she had on him. He’d never watched anyone as much as he did her, but everything about her fascinated him. He reached for his beer, enjoyed how she studied her surroundings. Part of that was the cop in her, but she had an enthusiasm for life and didn’t hide it. She was like a chameleon, able to adapt to any surroundings. He stood out. He knew that because he was unyielding, but Molly fit as an NYU detective, but she also fit here in sundresses, sandals and hats.