by Terry Towers
at his watch. “Can we not talk about Emma right now? Lunch is almost over. She puts a bad taste
in my mouth.” He grimaced.
“Thank you, by the way.”
His eyebrows raised. “For what?”
She took a bite from her sandwich and swallowed, giving herself a moment to decide if she
was going to finish the thought she had started. “For lunch. I wasn’t sure if I’d be seeing you
again. But I was hoping I would.” She lifted her gaze to meet his.
“I told you, you would. I don’t ever go back on my word. I was just hoping you’d be open to
seeing me again.” Again, there was a sincere look in his eyes. It touched her. There were no
games with him. No second guessing. She liked it… a lot.
“I am.”
He frowned, his eyes focusing intently on her lips. A tremor rocked through her and the
desire to pull him into her and taste his lips was almost unbearable.
“You have a little something…”
Her frown matched his. What? Where? Embarrassed, she swiped at her mouth with the back
of her hand. Why do I have to be such a damned sloppy eater? Can’t even eat a sandwich
without making a fool out of myself?
He reached over to her, touched her cheek and brushed the side of her lip with his thumb. A
faint smile touched his lips. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into his hand. So nice.
“Is it gone?” She opened her eyes to see his blue eyes had flared up with an intensity that
made her breath catch in her throat.
“Almost.” He leaned into her, moving so slowly that the seconds it took for his lips to meet
hers felt like an eternity.
She smiled as his lips touched hers and his aftershave teased her nose. He smelt so damned
good; if he wrapped her into his arms, allowing her to take in the spicy smell, she’d happily
remain there an eternity. While their kiss beside her car had been but a brief taste of what may be to come, this one wasn’t. He tugged gently at her lower lip with his teeth and lashed at her lips with the tip of his tongue. She grabbed the front of his uniform and pulled him closer, parting her lips, inviting him in.
He groaned low in his throat, kissing her with more passion. His energy and need flowed
through her, igniting the yearning between her legs. The way his tongue danced with hers was
unparalleled in skill and finesse and so natural.
When he pulled away from her, leaving her slightly lightheaded and yearning for more
intimate contact, she had to force herself from pulling him back in. A part of her was thankful
they were in a park and he had to go back to work. If they’d been somewhere secluded, she
doubted she’d have had the strength to let him go.
She slowly opened her eyes to see him staring at her, a sexy grin on his face. She reached out
to him, once more fingering the scar, wondering the story behind it. A story for next time
perhaps?
“I gotta go back to work.” The reluctance in his voice echoed what she was feeling inside.
But with a sigh he rose to his feet and extended his hand to her.
She accepted his hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. “So, Officer Porter, I don’t
suppose you could play hookey for the afternoon?” She knew he couldn’t but figured there was
no harm in asking.
Graham laughed. “Nah, Dane would rat me out in a heartbeat.”
Shit. Dane. She needed to get this situation between the brothers sorted out and find out his intentions; it appeared Graham was making his interest perfectly clear to her. She may have been
a one-time-only threesome girl, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the girl to come between
the two men.
Chapter 9
Two Weeks After The Break-in – Genevieve
“You could have just told me the news over the phone, Dane. Why make me come to Staten
Island to give me the big reveal?” Genevieve shrugged off her black peacoat and passed it to Dane.
“Because if I did then I wouldn’t be able to make you my homemade spaghetti and
meatballs.” Accepting the coat, he leaned over her shoulder and grabbed a hanger from the coat
closet.
“You mean, homemade spaghetti sauce?”
He put the coat on the hanger. “It would be easier to hang up your coat you’d…” he motioned
for her to step back.
A grin spread across her lips. “It would be. But I’m not going to.” She could have moved
away as he reached around her, but didn’t. Having his muscular chest brush against her and
getting the opportunity to bask in the aroma of his cologne made it too tempting to stay where
she was.
He returned her grin, a brow cocked. “I can make you.”
“You can try,” she countered, placing her hands on her hips, a part of her really wanting him
to do just that. His looked turned heated as his eyes locked to hers. Why she was provoking him
she didn’t know. After her picnic date, she’d been on a couple more dates with Graham and
thought she’d made her decision. But God help her, it was harder than she imagined to keep from
tempting Dane. He was so much fun to tease.
“Is that another challenge?”
“Maybe.” Don’t start something that you can’t finish Genevieve, the voice at the back of her mind warned. She’d been on several dates with Graham already and each one made her more
convinced he was the one.
Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her tight to his chest and lifted her out of the way
while hanging the coat up in the closet. He didn’t release her straight away; he kept her locked in his arms for the span of several beats, until her heart began beating rapidly in anticipation. It looked like he was going to kiss her, but just when she thought he was going to make a move, he
released her and stepped back.
She knew she shouldn’t be disappointed, that she should be relieved, but she wasn’t.
He cleared his throat. “Now back to the dinner. I mean, it’s from scratch, even the noodles.
All by my own hands.” Taking her hand, he led her through the townhouse to the back where the
kitchen was located.
“Wow, I’m impressed. Did you learn from your mother?” Well before they entered the
kitchen the delicious aroma of herbs and spices drifted to her nose, causing her stomach to
grumble softly.
He paused, giving her a funny look, and then smiled. “Yeah. My mother is an amazing cook.
Really old school Italian. She hates packaged anything; if it can be broken down and made by
hand that’s how it’s done in the house I grew up in.” He shrugged. “I usually don’t have time,
but on special occasions I make the time.”
She took her position sitting on a wooden bar stool behind the kitchen island and watched as
he checked on the sauce that was sautéing on the stove. She was impressed watching him as he
worked away in the kitchen. And he looked incredible with his faded blue jeans riding low on his
hips and a black t-shirt clinging to his torso and chest, showing an outline of the muscles
underneath. She remembered running her fingers along those fine contours and longed to do it
again.
Wrong brother, wrong brother! the voice of reason screamed out in her head.
We still haven’t made any commitments to each other, she reasoned back, but still a sliver of guilt crept into her consciousness. She growled at herself; she wasn’t the one to call Dane, he
called her! And it wasn’t like she’d kissed him. They we
re friends. Just friends. Nothing wrong
with that. It was okay to have a little crush over a friend as long as she didn’t do anything about it.
“Something on your mind?”
“Huh?” She looked up, met his gaze and then shook her head. “No, nothing. So what was the
surprise?”
“Taste this first.” He scooped up some of the sauce and passed her the wooden spoon.
Taking the spoon, she sampled the sauce and moaned. “This is delicious. I mean… really…
delicious.”
A self-satisfied smile spread across his lips. “Good. Glad you like it.”
“I don’t like it. I love it. Seriously.” Taking the spoon back, he placed it on the counter and wiggled his finger at her. “Hold on a second. I’ll get your surprise before we eat. Stay put.”
“Yes, Sir!”
He disappeared from the kitchen and returned several minutes later with a wide grin on his
lips and holding something behind his back. “Now, for the record I’m going to expect something
in return for what I’m about to give you.”
Tilting her head to the side, her eyes narrowed at him. “Like what?”
“I’m not at liberty to say right now, but just let it be known that sometime in the future, I’m
not too sure when, I’ll be calling in my reward.”
“Oooookay.”
“Agreed?”
She quickly nodded, squirming on her stool, anxious to see what he had for her. She felt like
a child at Christmastime. “What is it?”
He pulled the item from behind his back and her mouth dropped as she slipped from the
stool.
“Oh my God!” Tears welled up in her eyes and her body trembled as she took a few hesitant
steps toward him. In his hands was her most valuable and prized of items that was stolen from
her boutique: a red crocodile skin Birkin that she’d been selling for fifty thousand.
With a little squeal of excitement she rushed to him, throwing herself into his arms, nearly
toppling his large frame backward from her excitement. She placed a series of kisses across his
jaw and as she was about to pull away he pulled her closer and claimed her lips with his.
Her body froze at first, but then quickly responded remembering his body and a low moan
rumbled in the back of her throat. Parting her lips, she invited him in. She loved the taste of the spices from the sauce on his lips and tongue. But more than that she loved the feel of his body
against hers as she pressed tight against him.
The sound of the bag slipping from Dane’s fingers brought her back to the reality of the
situation and she pulled away from him, feeling breathless and confused. She’d been flirting with Dane, teasing, but she didn’t intend for things to go beyond harmless flirting – or did she?
She’d decided it was to be Graham. Didn’t she?
“So sorry. I –” He bent and picked the bag from the floor and passed it to her. “I hope I didn’t
damage it.”
She accepted the bag and clutched it to her chest. “No. It’s perfect.” She couldn’t believe
she’d gotten it back. Under the ruse of pretending to examine the bag for any damage she took a
moment to gather her emotions. “How did you get it?”
His smile returned. “It was a fluke to be honest. We were investigating a store for another
crime and we came across the bags in the back, getting ready to be shipped overseas. I
remembered your stolen bags and matched them up with your stolen list. You’ll have to come to
the station and claim them all and fill out the paperwork, but you should have them back within a week or two.”
“How were you able to get this one out of the station?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “Called in a favour. I know how much these bags mean to you
and I wanted you to have it. And I remembered you said the most valuable ones were the weird
leather and…” he motioned to the bag. “That one looks weird so I assumed it would mean a lot
to you.”
Her brow furrowed. “You listened to me chattering on about the types of bags last week?”
His face flushed and he avoided her gaze. “Of course.” Brushing past her, he went back to the
stove and pulled the pot of boiling pasta from the burner. “It’s ready.”
Still clutching the Birkin, she spun around and watched him. He wasn’t supposed to be the
sweet brother. He was supposed to be the one who fucked women, got bored and went on his
way to the next conquest. He wasn’t supposed to really care. Could it all be a ruse, a game to
gain her affections so she’d sleep with him again and he could move on? She didn’t think so and
it confused the hell out of her.
~*~*~*~*~
~ Graham ~
Ahhh. Shit, should have called. Hope he made enough for the both of us. The sweet aroma of spaghetti sauce and garlic bread drifted to his nose as Graham stepped through the front door of
Dane’s house still in full uniform. The day had been one big disaster. It seemed like every call he got today was one stupid thing after another. Dane was an amazing cook, better even than their
mother, even though he’d never admit it to Dane and certainly not to their mother, so Dane’s
spaghetti would definitely hit the spot.
He’d been tempted to go see Genevieve, nothing could lift his mood like her, but she wasn’t
answering her mobile and he wasn’t the type to just pop into someone’s place – other than his
brother’s place. As he shrugged off his jacket and placed it onto the closet he noticed a woman’s black coat and hesitated as he considered leaving.
But curiosity over the identity of this mystery woman and the grumbling in his stomach were
too much. I’ll pop in, grab some food, meet Dane’s chick of the week and be on my way. He heard a woman’s laughter coming from the kitchen as he made his way into the house. It
sounded familiar. His curiosity piqued, he increased his pace until he got to the threshold of the kitchen and his eyes were immediately drawn to the kitchen table. His brother was at one end of
the table and Genevieve at the other.
He cleared his throat and both sets of eyes shot over to him.
His brother was the first to acknowledge him. “Hey man. Come on in. There’s some supper
left if you want some. Didn’t realize you were coming or I’d have made more.” He nodded
toward Genevieve. “You remember Ginny.”
“Hi, Graham.”
“Genevieve.”
He looked from one face to the other, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Am I interrupting
anything?”
What the fuck is going on? His thoughts never made it to his mouth. His eyes locked with Genevieve’s and he could have sworn he saw guilt flashing in her eyes. Guilt over what –
exactly? Forcing down the surge of jealousy that was rearing its head he made his way over to
the cupboard and grabbed a plate from the overhead cabinet.
He heard a chair scratching the floor and heavy footsteps behind him as he scooped some
spaghetti from the pot and then covered it with sauce. His brother came to stand at his side and
leaned into him.
“What the fuck, man? What’s with the attitude toward Ginny?” Dane kept his voice low, so
Ginny wouldn’t be able to hear.
Graham looked over his shoulder to eye Genevieve. She was focused on her plate, but just
picking at her food. She apparently hadn’t told Dane they’d gone out a few times. But on the
other hand it wasn’t like they’d had “the talk” and made things exclusive. They’d kissed a few
times, but nothing heavier than that. And he hadn’t told Dane either.
He redirected his attention to Dane. If she was seeing Dane behind his back then Dane
certainly wouldn’t be taking things slow like they were. If they were fucking he was done with
her, no questions asked. But if she wasn’t…
“What’s she doing here?” Graham also kept his voice lowered.
Dane sliced a piece of garlic bread off of the loaf and plopped it onto Graham’s plate. “We
found her merchandise. By accident really, but it worked out for her. I thought it would be nice
to tell her in person.”
“So you’re not like…” he attempted to sound dismissive and hoped Dane couldn’t see
through his façade. It was hard to hide anything he was thinking from his brother. It was a twin
thing he supposed.
Dane sighed, turning his back to the counter and looking over at Genevieve. “No. I’d like to,
but no.” He clucked his tongue off of the roof of his mouth. “I’m not getting the right vibe from her yet. And I don’t want to scare her off.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Dunno man, but I’ll figure it out.” He slapped Graham on the back and pushed off the
countertop. “Grab a chair and take a load off. The Vegas thing is forgotten, it’s all cool.”
Graham battled with himself. Should he pull his brother aside and end this now? If he told
Dane to back off chances are he would. But on the other hand if Dane was the one she wanted to
be with then he didn’t want to be the consolation prize. He was once, with Emma, and he wasn’t
about to be that again. He’d rather win her affections fair and square.
~*~*~*~*~
~ Genevieve ~
This was one of the most uncomfortable situations she’d ever been in. Worse even than the
afternoon in Vegas when she realized she had gone down on the wrong brother.
It’s your guilt chickie, if you really felt you weren’t doing something wrong you wouldn’t feel this way, her conscience nagged.
“So Genevieve, how’ve you been?” She could feel both sets of eyes burning into her and had
no choice but to lift her eyes from her food to look up at Graham, who had seated himself next to her.
She forced a smile. “I’m better. Your brother found my inventory. It’s a relief.” She wanted