About That Kiss

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About That Kiss Page 20

by Jill Shalvis


  #YouCantHandleTheTruth

  The rest of the day was a blur for Kylie because she was so swamped with work. Whether due to guilt or otherwise, Gib had once again passed some new jobs on to her, leaving her in the throes of no less than five different projects. It was both wonderful and overwhelming but at least things were status quo between them.

  By lunchtime, her brain was flatlining, so she took off her apron, dusted off as much as she could, and grabbed Vinnie, heading out to the courtyard to clear her head.

  At the fountain, she sat on a bench. Vinnie lifted his little leg on a bush and then came to sniff at the water.

  “Careful,” she warned him. Not too long ago he’d gotten brave and had jumped in. Only problem was that because of his squat build and heavy head, he couldn’t swim. Panic had ensued until she’d rescued him.

  But smart and bright as he was, he was also overconfident and believed himself invincible—hence the reminder. “No swimming,” she said.

  He snorted and then ran in circles for a solid two minutes, doing his best roadrunner impression until suddenly he ran out of gas and flopped at Kylie’s feet, panting in exhaustion.

  Kylie shook her head and stared at the fountain. As she’d told Joe the night before, the legend was clear. Wish for love with a true heart and love would find you.

  But legends were made up. Fantasies. Except . . . there really had been a lot of love stories to happen right here in this building in the past few years, several of them involving her good friends, and all could be traced back to wishing on this very fountain.

  Last night when she’d wished for her penguin, she’d actually been tempted to wish for something else all together, and how scary was that? She would’ve liked to wish for Joe to openly look at her the way he sometimes did when he thought she wasn’t watching, his warm gaze making her hot and mushy at the same time, his expression telling her she was more than just sex to him, that maybe there were real feelings, feelings that could go deep, deeper than she’d ever allowed before.

  Not that she’d wish away the sex though, especially since thoughts of that alone could give her a hot flash. The images were implanted, his just-for-her smile barely curving his lips, that hard, honed body taking hers however he wanted—because let’s face it, any way he wanted had been pretty damn amazing so far, especially when he used his tongue to—

  “Now see, you gotta actually toss in a coin,” came a craggy voice and something hit the water. A coin.

  Kylie’s head whipped around to stare at Old Man Eddie. He grinned at her. “Hope you wished for something good, darlin’,” he said. “Would hate to see that penny go to waste.”

  “I . . . I can’t believe you did that.”

  He shrugged. “You were standing here in indecision for so long that Vinnie fell asleep.” He pointed to her dog, who was still curled up on the sun-warmed cobblestones at her feet, snoring like a buzz saw. “What did you wish for?” he asked.

  Oh good God. She’d just wished for more wild sex with Joe. She stared at Eddie and he gave her a slow, sly grin.

  “So it’s like that, is it? Who’s the lucky fellow?”

  “No. No, no, no,” she said. “It doesn’t count since I didn’t throw the coin. You did.”

  Old Man Eddie just smiled.

  “Oh come on,” she said. “Surely there are rules!”

  “Don’t know, darling.” He shrugged. “I’m not much of a rule man myself.”

  “Well, I’m certain there are rules, lots of them.” She told herself not to panic. “And anyway, the legend is about true love and that’s not what I was thinking about, so it’s not going to happen. Right? Tell me I’m right.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know that either, but I’d give more than a penny to know what you wished for to put that look on your face.”

  “Oh my God.” She whirled back to the water, determined to climb in and remove the penny. Only . . . there were a bunch of pennies in there and she could no longer remember exactly which one she’d seen Eddie toss in. And what if she removed the wrong one? What then? Would that mean she’d erase someone else’s wish? She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t live with herself if she did that. “Which one was it?” she demanded, stepping closer to the fountain. “I’m not sure . . .”

  “What isn’t she sure about?”

  This was from Molly, who was walking by with Willa and Elle, all three carrying bags from O’Riley’s Pub.

  “Whelp,” Eddie said, rocking back on his heels, flashing Kylie a mischievous smile. “I believe our Kylie here just made a wish that she’s second-guessing right about now.”

  Kylie stared at him. “But you’re the one who tossed the coin!”

  “Details,” he said on a shrug. “Fact is, a wish was made, and it had you blushing big time too. I’m thinking it must’ve been about someone whose name rhymes with—”

  “No!” Kylie rushed to say, not wanting to go there.

  Eddie grinned. “Exactly. His name rhymes with no.”

  Willa and Elle laughed. Molly looked speculative.

  Kylie sighed. “I’m walking away now.”

  “Kylie.”

  She turned back to face Molly, who held out one of the brown bags. “I was going to drive this out to Joe, who’s stuck babysitting a witness and is starving. But I’ve got a meeting. Maybe you wouldn’t mind?”

  Kylie looked at Elle and Willa, who were both suddenly very busy on their phones. “Um—”

  “Great, thanks!” Molly said, and then before Kylie knew it, she was holding the bag and a hastily scribbled address on a napkin.

  “What just happened?” Kylie asked Eddie when the women were gone.

  Eddie laughed. “I think it’ll be much more fun watching you figure it out.”

  The address on the napkin was a building only a few blocks away, so she and Vinnie walked. Or rather, Kylie walked, carrying Joe’s lunch and the lazy Vinnie.

  She ended up in front of a building in Pacific Heights that appeared to be a large Victorian home divided into four residences. Just outside the main entrance was Joe’s truck.

  With Joe in it.

  He wore dark mirrored shades and a backward ball cap and—thanks to that and the window tinting, it was hard to see his expression as she walked up to the front of the vehicle. She hesitated, unsure whether to go to the driver’s side in the street or to the passenger side. She didn’t want to impose. She just wanted to drop off his lunch.

  Oh, who was she kidding. He looked hot as hell and she wanted to climb into that truck and onto his lap and—

  He leaned over and opened the passenger door for her. Shaking off her fantasy, she walked over to him.

  He was in his usual work gear of cargos, a Hunt Investigations T-shirt and a windbreaker, which she now knew was mostly to hide the guys’ weapons and make them seem less threatening.

  In Joe’s case, it only made him look all the more badass.

  “You busy?” she asked.

  “Babysitting a witness as a favor to an attorney we do a lot of work for,” he said. “The guy’s not in any danger, except he’s a flight risk. Lucas is in the back alley watching the only other exit. No one ever slips past Lucas. Get in.”

  She’d discovered she didn’t much like him telling her what to do—unless she was naked—but she got into the truck with Vinnie and handed Joe the brown bag. “From Molly,” she said.

  He went brows up and ignored the bag, reaching for Vinnie instead, holding the dog up so that they could look at each other nose-to-nose. Vinnie panted in sheer joy and bicycled his little legs in the air, trying to get closer to lick his new favorite person.

  One hundred percent, Kylie understood the urge.

  Joe set Vinnie in his lap, where Vinnie turned in three circles—making Joe wince at the paw placement—and plopped down for a happy snooze.

  Then and only then did Joe look inside the bag. “Chicken wings and fries. Nice.”

  “Molly said she was supposed to bring you lunch.”<
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  Joe stared at her and then pulled out his phone. He didn’t greet whoever answered, just listened for a moment before saying, “You’re going to want to watch your back. Paybacks are a bitch.”

  “Paybacks are a bitch?” Kylie repeated when he disconnected. “Who was that?”

  “My meddling sister.”

  “Your . . .” She stared at him. “Are you telling me that they set me up?”

  “They?”

  “Molly and Elle and Willa,” she said. “And Eddie and the damn fountain!”

  This was the second time he’d looked alarmed at the mention of the fountain. “Come on,” she said. “Stop kidding me about being afraid of that thing.”

  “Who’s kidding?” he asked, sounding genuine. “And you should be afraid too. You know the stories. Finn and Pru. Willa and Keane. Max and Rory. Spence and Colbie. Archer and Elle.” He shook his head. “And Archer is the badass of all the badasses. If he didn’t stand a chance, no one stands a chance. No one, Kylie.”

  Now that she knew he was serious, some of his concern began to seep into her. Okay, all of his concern. “It was only a penny. A penny! You can’t even buy anything for a penny these days, so—”

  “Are you telling me you really made a wish for true love with me?”

  “No!” She bit her lower lip. “Not exactly, anyway.”

  “Then what exactly?”

  “It was a fantasy, okay? Sheesh!” She tossed up her hands. “And I didn’t even mean to!”

  “Kylie, what did you wish for?”

  She blew out a breath. “Sex. With you. You happy now?”

  His eyes softened with good humor and heat as he smiled. A Big Bad Wolf smile. “Very.”

  “Don’t let it go to your head,” she warned without thinking. “Wait. I mean—”

  Too late. He laughed his rare, full-on laugh, the one that never failed to make her smile.

  “Oh, forget it,” she said on a sigh and opened the O’Riley’s bag. “Since this whole lunch thing was a complete sham, you’re going to share.”

  They ate in easy companionship while Joe kept one eye on the building he was watching for work. After a few minutes, a bunch of kids poured out of a school a block down.

  “Were you a good student?” she asked, wanting to know more about him.

  He snorted. “No.”

  “What was your favorite class?”

  “Recess.”

  “Did you go to college?” she asked.

  He slid her a look. “We playing twenty questions?”

  “I’m trying to get to know you.”

  His mouth quirked. “You know me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know your body.”

  “And you like it,” he said, smug.

  Actually, she loved his body, every single, hard, toned, perfect inch. And he knew it, too. But fine, if he wanted to go there, she’d go there. “How about an easier question. Like, what’s your favorite sexual position?”

  He cut those eyes to her, an intimate smile playing on his lips now, and she poked his arm. “Come on, surely you know this one. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  He leaned in and dropped his voice to a pitch that sent tingles down her spine. “I already know yours.”

  She felt her face heat and broke the eye contact first. Scrambling, she tried to think of a new question, one that would knock that predatory expression off his face before she did something stupid—like jump his bones.

  “I was an okay student,” he said, surprising her into looking at him again as he answered her earlier question. “It wasn’t that the work was hard. I got A’s on the tests, but I didn’t do the homework, which brought my grades down.” He paused. “And recess wasn’t really my favorite class. It was science.”

  “Yeah?” she asked. “Why?”

  “Because I had a crush on my hot-as-hell teacher. Mrs. Jones.” He smiled in fond memory and she actually felt a little jealous, which made him laugh and tug at a strand of her hair.

  “We going to check out the last apprentice on our list tonight?” she asked, desperate for a subject change.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’ll call you.”

  She nodded and reached for a sleepy Vinnie, her fingers grazing Joe’s thighs as she did. He met and held her gaze while she scooped the dog, doing her best not to look like she enjoyed it. “See ya,” she said. She’d meant to say it breezily but it came out embarrassingly breathless.

  She’d walked all the way back to work before she realized she still had no idea what would happen once they found her penguin, if they even did.

  Would they take this thing wherever it led them?

  Or would they go back to ignoring each other?

  And which did she want? Okay, so she knew what she wanted. But given how she knew he felt about relationships, hell if she’d ask for it.

  Chapter 22

  #StupidIsAsStupidDoes

  The rest of the day turned out to be interminably long for Joe. After his surprise lunch with Kylie, he’d had to put out fire after fire at work. He’d begun his day at five a.m. that morning and he didn’t head out until seven that night. He figured he’d grab some food and Kylie, and then they’d check out the last apprentice.

  But Archer showed up in his doorway, dressed to go.

  Dressed meaning armed to the teeth.

  And Joe knew he was not done with work.

  “Need you,” Archer said.

  Which was how Joe found himself also armed to the teeth and heading out with the guys. The client they were serving was a big commercial property contractor who’d hired Hunt Investigations because expensive pieces of equipment kept going missing from a renovation project in a financial district building. A week ago, anticipating the next heist, Joe and Lucas had hidden a transmitter on each of the remaining expensive pieces of equipment at high risk of being stolen.

  Sure enough, tonight the transmitter had alerted them to a piece of equipment on the move when it shouldn’t have been. They raced to the job site, where it all went down surprisingly fast but dirty. They found the equipment foreman himself stealing the small backhoe loader by literally driving it off the job site. They hauled him out of the machine, but at the last moment he must’ve realized this was the end for him. He objected by pulling a knife from nowhere and nearly gutting Joe. When that didn’t stop the takedown, the dickwad then produced a grenade.

  A fucking grenade.

  Joe and Lucas both dove for it. Lucas shoved him out of the way and opened the trash chute. Joe was able to grab the grenade and throw it in. The explosion was contained—well, mostly. Neither Lucas nor Joe got fully clear and took unintended twin twenty-five-foot flights through a sheet of drywall, landing hard on a stack of demo wood.

  All of which had to be explained to more than one responding agency, and that ate up another few hours.

  After, Joe sat shirtless on the table in the staff room of their office with Archer checking him over to get a better look at the knife wound in his side. “This needs stitches.” His tone was harsh and he wasn’t particularly gentle when he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad.

  “Just stick a Band-Aid on it,” Joe said.

  Archer spent a minute cleaning off the blood before speaking. “It wouldn’t have been the end of the world to go to a hospital.”

 

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