by Shayla Black
fit your father’s profile. He was a smart man, but he liked adrenaline. After he left his command and began working behind a desk, what did he like to do in his off time?”
His father had jumped out of planes, raced cars, and engaged in anything dangerous. “I understand your point, but I can’t see him being this reckless.”
“He was identified by four different people.”
“Three of whom are missing, Holland.”
“Okay, I admit that gives me pause as well. I’ve got a call in to his old aide-de-camp. He’s overseas on assignment, so it could take a while for him to get back to me. We’ll see what he has to say.”
Waiting really was the hardest part. “What does your uncle think about the girl?”
“She had a history of running away from home. A few juvenile arrests for petty theft. She served a few months in juvie and went home to an alcoholic mother and absentee father. It’s not surprising that she left after the scandal.”
“What I find surprising is that no one has seen her since.”
She shook her head sadly. “Dax, no one cares anymore. The press has moved on to the next scandal. The girl likely ran and didn’t look back.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Holland was right. No one outside of his family and friends cared anymore. His father was dead and buried and there were new salacious stories for the press to devour. Hell, half of them were about Mad and Gabe. “Still, someone somewhere has to have seen her.”
“I’ve got a list of everyone involved in the case. I’m making a timeline. Then I intend to track every single witness down. The victim’s mother is no longer at her old residence, so I’ll head over there in the morning to ask some questions, see if I can find out where she’s moved. I don’t know if she’ll be helpful, but she’s the best lead I’ve got.”
Then that was where they would start. The waiter brought out the oysters, placing them on the fine linen in between them.
Dax switched seats. He wanted to be closer to her. He’d scored a major victory. She was discussing the case with him. If he was a smart man, he would accept that as enough. He’d never been particularly smart when it came to Holland Kirk.
Her eyes widened.
“I can hear you better here,” he claimed as innocently as he could. “And you know a nice bottle of wine would really complement the meals we have coming up. I think I saw a proper sauvignon blanc on the menu. It pairs with your chicken and my crab.”
Hopefully. He wasn’t exactly a sommelier, but white went with chicken and seafood, and it definitely loosened Holland up. She was finally smiling, and he wasn’t about to let that stop.
“Fine, since neither one of us is driving,” she allowed and asked the waiter to bring a bottle with dinner.
She ate one of the oysters with the relish and gusto of a woman who’d been eating them all her life. When she set the shell back down, she leaned in. “So which one of your walking penis friends is in town?”
“How did you . . . Courtney. Of course. She’s a nice girl.” She was exactly the kind of woman he used to go after. Sweet, a little funny, open sexually. She’d pretty much offered herself up on a silver platter the day they’d met, but she’d been less aggressive since she discovered he had a connection to her best friend. Slightly less. “Gabe is here. I know he’d love to see you.”
“And? Oh, god. If Gabe’s here that means Mad is, too,” she said with a laugh. “I’ll call the local hospital and tell them they’re going to need a rush shipment of penicillin. Wait, didn’t Gus come in last night? Gus can handle Mad. Though the prostitutes of New Orleans will weep.” She blushed. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t saying something mean about your sister. I adore her.”
But Gus was kind of the female equivalent of Mad. “I’m sure she’s handling Mad as we speak.” He shuddered. “Let’s talk about something more pleasant. Don’t you have a murder or something that’s nicer to think about than my sister sleeping with my friend?”
“Oh, I’ve had some great murders,” she said with relish. She was smiling as she started to talk.
And he had her right where he wanted her.
* * *
An hour and a half and one shared Cerises jubilee later, Dax was a happy man. They’d spent the entire time talking about their work and friends. She’d discussed a few cases she’d worked and what it had been like growing up as the niece of one of the biggest, baddest cops in the parish. He’d told her a few stories about his friends—the ones that made him look like a choirboy, of course. And he’d talked about what it meant for him to have his own ship, to lead his men. It had been everything he’d thought a date with her would be. Fun and satisfying on a level he hadn’t known with a woman before. Yes, he wanted her sexually. No doubt about that. He’d been tamping down his arousal most of the night. And when she really laughed . . . well, that throaty sound fired his blood. But the desire went beyond sex. He wanted her company. He wanted her near him.
He wanted her always.
He’d only checked his phone once. She’d gotten a call she couldn’t avoid and stepped away to talk. That was when he’d seen the alert pop up. Connor had rigged a system that alerted Dax when his name came up in the tabloids. Dax had clicked through to find a picture of him and Holland entering Antoine’s, his hand on the small of her back.
Three Internet gossip sites had already picked up the story. It was possible the bigger rags would run with the story, too.
God, he was going to have to tell her, but he wanted to wait a little while longer before reminding her of all the reasons she refused to date him.
“I haven’t eaten that much in forever,” she admitted. “After work, I usually heat up something in the microwave.”
“Why would you do that when you’re such an amazing cook?”
She blushed sweetly. “I like to cook, but I rarely do it. Cooking for one isn’t much fun. I don’t like to waste all that food. My uncle’s recipes usually feed a dozen men. Though you ate almost everything I made the other night.”
He would have eaten more if it kept her talking to him. “So what was the special occasion that night? You made gumbo and pie. Did I interrupt something?”
“No, not at all. I was experimenting.” She huffed a little and set her wineglass down. “That’s a lie. I made it for you. I remembered how much you love chess pie and the fact that you can’t get it outside of the south. I wanted to impress you.”
He wanted to reach out and pull her into his lap, to cuddle her and thank her properly. He settled for a smile. “Consider me impressed, sweetheart. It was amazing. I haven’t had anyone give a damn about me in so long I think I’ve forgotten what it felt like.”
“I can hardly imagine that’s true. You’re Captain Awesome.”
He rolled his eyes. “Apparently the men call me that. I’m sure it’s because I turn a blind eye to some of the stupid stuff they do. It can be hard to be stuck on a ship for months at a time. If they want to start a broom hockey league when they’re off duty, who am I to stop them? No, I was talking about women, Holland. It’s been a long time since a woman cooked for me. I think it was my college girlfriend. And she majored in ramen noodles, so I’m not sure that counts.” There was something deeply intimate about a woman cooking a meal. There was something special because it hadn’t been any woman. It had been Holland.
“How can that be true?” She shook her head as she stared at him, as though trying to figure him out. “You have women chasing after you constantly.”
She assumed so many things about him. He could clear up a few misconceptions. “They chase after me a lot, but most women aren’t actually interested in me. They like being seen with me. If they’re into politics and power, they’re hoping to get close to Zack or Roman. If they want money and glitz, then Gabe or Mad. They want me to take them out and show them off so they’ll get their pictures in the tabloids. They don’t know the real me and they don’t want to. They certainly couldn’t care
less that I love gumbo and chess pie.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way,” she mused. “That sounds like a lonely way to live.”
“It’s starting to feel that way.” When he was younger, he hadn’t been looking for anything serious. Good-time girls had seemed like the perfect solution. He’d just wanted to have fun and hang with his friends. Then Zack had gotten married and the things he’d once sought seemed pointless. “Hell, most of the men under me are married with children. At some point the playboy thing becomes less a way of life and more like a joke.”
“You could get married tomorrow if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to just get married. I want to be in love. Everyone looks at marriage like it’s the prize to be had. It should be the inevitable outcome of the real prize.”
“Being in love?”
“Loving a woman so much that I know I won’t ever want another one the way I want her. Knowing she completes me in some inexplicable way and I do the same for her. Marriage, children, the house in the suburbs, they don’t mean a damn thing without that foundation.”
She sat up suddenly and wiped a hand across her eyes. “I must be allergic to something. I’m going to visit the ladies’ room, Captain. I’ll be right back.”
She picked up her purse and scurried off like a scared little rabbit. So he’d gotten to her with the truth. He called over the waiter and took care of the bill.
What he hadn’t told her was that the whole time he’d been on his last deployment, he’d thought about her. There hadn’t been some nameless, faceless wife who would magically round out his world. He’d pictured Holland. He knew what he wanted and it wasn’t some sweet thing who would look at him like he was the king of the world because every now and then he remembered to bring her flowers or help with the dishes. No, he wanted a woman who would chew his ass out when he forgot. He wanted a woman who demanded respect, who earned it with her smarts and quick wit and passion.
He wanted Holland.
He damn sure intended his marriage to be stronger and have more substance than his parents’. Maybe he was being naive, but he intended to get it right with Holland. Starting now.
Dax stood, refusing to waste any opportunity. If he had any chance of a future with Holland, he would grab it every single time.
He strode into the hallway that led to the restrooms. Antoine’s was larger than it looked and it could be a bit labyrinthine to the casual diner, but despite the cool, dark interior, he knew exactly where he was going.
Outside it would be twilight, the air hot and muggy, but here he could feel the air conditioner over his skin. It did nothing to cool him down.
She emerged from the bathroom as he approached. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of him, but she settled back into her calm and collected persona. “Are you ready to go?”
So polite. He wanted to get past that genteel surface and find the passionate woman he knew lay underneath. “I’m ready for a lot of things, Holland. Most of all, I’m ready to finish what we started all those years ago.”
She backed up, her body hitting the wall behind her. “What are you talking about?”
Oh, she knew exactly what he was talking about, but he could make it clear to her. “I never got to finish that kiss. My father interrupted us.”
Holland shook her head, but she was looking at his mouth. Her breath had gone shallow. “We finished. And I walked away.”
He moved closer, crowding her. “I definitely didn’t get my fill, sweetheart. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have left. I think it’s time we fixed that problem.”
Dax leaned in slowly, giving her the opportunity to protest. He’d never force her . . . but persuasion was something else entirely.
“Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right here, right now.”
“You know I can’t,” she whispered.
That was what he wanted to hear. He braced his hand against the wall above her head and hovered close, breathing in her scent. She smelled like ripe peaches and something so her. It thrilled his senses.
Slowly, he reached for the soft skin of her face and cupped it. “I never stopped thinking about you. Not once, Holland. I don’t think I’m capable of forgetting you.”
“This is a mistake.” She breathed the words onto his lips, their mouths drawing ever closer. “It can’t end well.”
He closed the remaining distance between them and brushed his lips over hers, giving her a taste of what was to come. “It can if we make it. We choose our fates.”
He would make his marriage work. Together, they would have children who always felt loved and never worried that their parents didn’t put them and each other first.
Dax deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue over her plump bottom lip and thrilling when she shuddered. Her trembling hands skated up his torso as she pressed their bodies closer and kissed him harder. Then she opened her mouth and he felt the slide of her tongue against his.
Pure fire threatened to consume him. Usually, he took his time and worked up to sex, but the feel of this woman in his arms made him rough and ready in a heartbeat. He wanted to shove her against the wall and thrust his cock deep. Take her. His whole being screamed out to claim her once and for all.
He pinned her to the wall, covering her body with his as he prolonged the kiss. With greedy palms, he hugged her curves, then settled on her waist and pulled her hard against him. He hated the clothing between them, wanted nothing more than to feel her silky flesh.
“Dax, we shouldn’t,” she breathed against his mouth.
“Stop thinking. Feel. Feel how much I want you, Holland.” He pressed his pelvis against hers. It wasn’t a gentlemanly thing to do, but he couldn’t be polite with her. She brought out the caveman in him. He wanted to mark her, to let everyone else know this one woman was his.
He silenced her with his kiss, delving deep again. Her fingers clung to his shoulders as her body molded to his, fitting together. Chest to chest. Belly to belly. His erection nestled against her pussy.
Could he take her in the bathroom? He had a condom. All he needed was a few minutes of privacy to ease the ache they were both suffering. But as much as he wanted her, Dax couldn’t fathom that his first time with Holland would be in a public john. She deserved better. So did they.
As he forced himself to ease back, an unfamiliar voice drifted down the hall. “If you’ll come this way, we’ll take a peek into the private dining room.”
Holland gasped at the intrusion and shoved at him. Dax stared at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, a ribbon of satisfaction winding through him.
“As you can plainly see, Antoine’s is noted for its romantic environment. Like everything here in New Orleans, we keep it spicy,” the male voice said again.
Dax grimaced when he noticed a group of tourists taking one of the food and wine tours conducted daily throughout the city. As the group passed, Holland looked even more flustered. Obviously, she hadn’t been caught in many compromising positions before. Luckily he had.
Dax stepped in front of her and nodded to the guide as he walked past.
“Y’all have a nice night in the Quarter,” he said with a smile, taking all of the attention off Holland.
A few eyes widened and some whispers followed, as if someone recognized him, but the tour walked on.
“I can’t believe I did that.” Holland still panted behind him, her chest rising and falling when he turned back to her.
“That was nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. I bet we’re not the first couple caught kissing in a hallway.” He smoothed back her hair. “I’m sorry. I should have waited until we got home.”
Her blond hair shook. “No, you shouldn’t have done it at all. I told you, if we’re going to investigate together, we can’t be involved.”
“Why? We’re adults. We don’t actually work together. Neither of our jobs have rules that prohibit a relationship between us. If you’re still worried about m
y lifestyle, I assure you it’s quiet. I only want you. I want to settle down. No more parties. No more craziness. Let’s pursue this thing between us that’s been building since the day I met you.”
She blinked up at him. For a moment, he thought she would acquiesce. “I can’t. If you want to look into your father’s case, you have to put aside any romantic relationship with me.”
Frustration welled up inside him. She’d told him she wanted him. She’d responded to his touch like she’d been made for him. So why was she pushing him away? The only reason he could see were her illogical fears. “Is this an either/or proposition? I can investigate my father’s case or I can have you?”
She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. “No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying I’m not ready. I need some space. You knew you were coming back into my life. You’ve been thinking about this and planning it for months, but this is all a shock to me, Dax. Everything has been neat and tidy in my life and you’re the hurricane that could blow it all away.”
Her words kicked him squarely in the gut. She was right. He’d been plotting for months, and not once had he reached out to talk to her. He’d done that on purpose so he could surprise her, keep the upper hand . . . see if he could glean her real feelings. Holland didn’t work like that. She wasn’t a leap-then-look-later