by Tee O'Fallon
As Alex wiggled into her coat, her sweater tightened across her breasts. Gritting his teeth, Gray shoved the car door open and was relieved when the cold, biting wind hit his face. He looked up and down the street, and by the time he rounded the car to the sidewalk Alex’s coat was on and her body mercifully cloaked. Leading the way to her apartment building, he kept a watchful eye ahead, turning periodically to check around and behind them.
Only when they were inside her apartment with the door locked and dead-bolted did Gray relax. But as he removed his suit coat and stuffed his tie into one of the pockets, it hit him like a grenade—the hard part of the night was only beginning.
Hard-on, to be more accurate.
Spending another night alone with Alex was going to be the toughest assignment he ever had.
She had removed her coat and now stood staring at him from across the small living room. There it was again, prickling his skin. Electricity…sparking and crackling between them like a desert lightning storm. Powerful. Sharp. Exciting and difficult to resist.
Cold. Shower.
He cleared his throat. “Mind if I use your shower?”
Alex shook her head. “Of course not. I’ll wait here. It’s through my bedroom. There are towels in the bathroom closet.”
“Thanks.” He grabbed his overnight bag from the floor where he’d left it earlier that morning.
Moments later, he stepped into the shower and turned on only enough hot water to keep from freezing his ass off. As the cool water sluiced down his body, he waited for the expected relief. Taking himself in his hand, he began stroking, struggling to find much-needed release, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to make himself come. He wanted to come inside Alex. Hell, just being in her bedroom was enough to make him envision what it would be like making love to her. Lying on top of her naked body, her long legs wrapped around his ass, her incredible breasts jutting out while he licked and sucked her nipples.
But she’d forbidden him to touch her again.
Ah, shit.
He cranked the water handle to full-on cold. With a frustrated groan he rested his hands on the shower wall, his muscles tightening in response to the icy stream of pounding water. When his brain could function again, he washed his hair and scrubbed himself clean, then shut off the water and grabbed a fresh towel he’d draped over the curtain rod.
The smell of something warm and hearty drifted into the bathroom, and Gray’s stomach grumbled. Neither of them had eaten all day, and he was hungry enough to chow down on an entire side of beef.
He shoved his legs into a pair of old, gray NYPD sweatpants and a black T-shirt then padded into the kitchen in his bare feet to find Alex plating up spaghetti and salad.
“I hope you like spaghetti.” She sent him an apologetic look. “It represents my full repertoire of Italian cuisine. Plus, it was all I had that was quick to fix.”
“Spaghetti’s perfect.” Gray watched Alex’s perfectly rounded backside as she opened a cabinet and tried unsuccessfully to reach for wineglasses, telling him she must not be in the habit of drinking wine or the glasses would be more accessible.
He came up behind her, placing his hands gently at her waist to move her aside. “I’ll get them.”
She turned abruptly at his touch. They stood with their bodies pressed lightly together. Chest to chest. Thigh to thigh.
So much for not touching her again.
Gray’s breath grew heavier. His chin brushed against Alex’s hair, and she lifted her face to him with parted lips. He couldn’t stop himself. Leaning down, his lips brushed hers, and she gasped. That brief, utterly feminine sound brought him to his senses. He leaned around her and reached for the wineglasses.
Tonight really will be the longest of my life.
As he set the glasses on the counter, Alex struggled to open a bottle of wine. “It’s an old bottle, so I hope it’s still okay.”
“Aging will only make it taste that much better.” Her hands were shaking, and Gray covered them with his. “I’ve got this.” He was relieved that she was as affected by what had just nearly happened as he was.
The bottle was indeed dusty. Alcohol might be just what they both needed to take the edge off today’s drama. He poured them each some Cabernet and set the glasses on the table.
Alex smiled so tightly her lips looked pinched. Her voice shook when she spoke. “Let’s eat.”
The tension in the little kitchen was as thick as a desert dust storm. “Tell me more about Nicky.” Gray sat down, hoping he could lighten things up.
Alex sat across from him, her smile so genuine, Gray knew instantly he’d touched on the right topic to turn the mood around.
“He’s the most wonderful boy in the world. He’s smart, funny, and makes friends easily.”
Gray took a sip of wine. “I could tell that the first time we met. Shy, he’s not.”
“It’s more than that. He likes you.” Alex took a bite of spaghetti, and he watched in fascination as her lips puckered and she sucked in a wayward strand of pasta dangling from her mouth.
Unable to stop the image of those luscious lips sucking on something else, Gray’s dick hardened painfully. Keep talking and don’t look at her mouth. “His illness doesn’t seem to have made him sad.”
“At times he is. Others not.” Alex bit her lower lip, which again drew Gray’s attention to her incredibly pink, majorly kissable mouth. “Children with serious illnesses often learn to hide their pain. They get used to it at such a young age.”
“I can’t imagine going through that. As a parent or a child.” Gray’s admiration of both Alex and Nicky was growing exponentially. Despite the hardships, theirs was a solid bond.
Again Alex smiled. “As a gift for everything he’s been through lately, I promised I’d take him to Yankee Stadium. You should hear how excited he is about it.”
Attending a Yankee game once a year was a Yates family tradition. It was on the tip of Gray’s tongue to say he’d like to take both of them to a game. “How did he get to be such a big Bronx Bomber fan?”
“Some of his friends from school hooked him on the game. But I think it was this book I got him the first time he had to go into the hospital. The Littlest Yankee. It really helped him through his first treatment.”
Gray tipped his head in the direction of the living room. “You’ve got an impressive collection.”
She paused in the middle of twirling spaghetti around her fork. “Not what you were expecting, I’m guessing.”
Gray smiled. “No. Not at all. Except for the interior decorating books. After the job you did for the commissioner last Christmas, that didn’t surprise me at all. You have a gift.”
“Thank you.” She smiled back. “Your sister may be my first client. Not my first paying client, though. I won’t take a dime from her. But she may be able to garner some other clients for me in Hopewell Springs and right here in the city.”
“How did someone with your engineering and architectural degrees get into interior decorating?” Gray asked.
The look she gave him now was one of resignation. “So you did peek in my box.”
“Yup.” He nodded. “Sorry. Snooping’s what I do.”
Alex rested her chin in her hand. “I couldn’t use my diplomas, although I considered paying for phony ones, along with the other ID I purchased in California. But phony diplomas can’t buy references, and any company I applied for a job with would undoubtedly want several. However,” she added, her tired eyes lighting with enthusiasm, “with my background, interior design turned out to be a natural inclination, and I’ve come to love the creativity. The idea of making someone’s home or office so beautiful that it makes them smile every time they look at it… I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel. And to do it on a tight budget is a worthy challenge.”
“When you decorated One PP and the commissioner’s office at Christmas, the place never looked so good. How you managed that with so little funds impressed us all.” As Gray twirle
d the stem of his wineglass between his fingers, he realized he truly was fascinated by her creative abilities. His own sparse apartment could use more than a little TLC.
“That was an ability born out of necessity.” When she gave him a half smile, Gray suspected there was something she wasn’t saying, but he let it go for now. “I wanted to make a nice, cheery home for my son but didn’t have money for a better zip code or pricey items to furnish our apartment with, so I started watching all the home and garden shows and read every decorator magazine in the library I could get my hands on. Then I bought a few pieces of used furniture and accessories at moving sales and garage sales. It’s a wonder how one woman’s junk is truly another woman’s treasure. The trick is to start with a good, solid framework. First I pick out a focal piece for a room, then I add to it with accessories and decorations made from old or inexpensive items I scavenge here and there.”
“I bet I can guess what your first purchase was.” He pointed to the living room. “That green velvet sofa.”
“Exactly.” She grinned back at him. “It’s still my favorite piece. Because of the odd color, the velvet was on sale at a fabric store, and I was able to refurbish the sofa for pennies.”
Gray dipped his chin toward the sofa adorned with richly colored, fringed pillows. “I’m guessing you made the pillows, too.”
She nodded. “From old fabric I found at an antique store going out of business. It’s amazing how you can stretch a dollar when you’re forced to. My theme for the living room was New York Shabby Chic, but without all the worn-out white stuff.”
Gray had no idea what Shabby Chic was but gathered it was some kind of interior design theme. “With your gift for design, seems like you could make a living at it. Some of the professionally decorated apartments I’ve seen had to have cost a fortune to design.”
“It’s not that simple.” Alex’s expression grew serious. “Obtaining a state interior design license costs money and requires a degree. Online courses cost more money.”
Gray knew she would never accept it, but he really wanted to give her the money to finish her degree and get her license. After everything she’d been through—and was still going through—she deserved a little support.
“Did you have your own engineering or architecture business in California before moving to New York?” he asked.
“I did.” She nodded. “I’d just gotten the business up and running when—”
Gray watched Alex’s eyes grow shuttered, as if she’d started to divulge something then thought better of it. “When what?” he prodded, hoping she’d keep talking.
“I was stupid.” Alex took a long sip of wine. “I lost virtually everything.”
Gray waited for her to expound on that loaded statement. When she didn’t, he asked, “What happened?”
Her gaze met his. “I relied on someone I shouldn’t have.”
“Nicky’s father?”
She hesitated, and for a moment Gray thought she might answer his question.
“It doesn’t matter.” Alex smiled, but it was a pasted-on smile, one meant to hide pain. “It’s in the past.”
Gray wanted to pry further, but he’d already invaded her privacy enough by poking around in her strong box. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen a marriage certificate or a divorce decree in the box, and the realization gave him a sense of relief. “It took guts to do what you did. To move across the country and make a new life for you and Nicky.”
She laughed. “Or outright stupidity.”
If she’d been his, he couldn’t have been more proud of her accomplishments, both in California and here in New York. “But you’ve made it work.”
“To a point, but I’d like to be able to provide better for Nicky.”
“What’s missing in his life?” Besides a father. “So he doesn’t have as many material things as some kids. He has what’s most important. The steadfast love of his mother, and that’s more than some children have.”
“You’re probably right.” Alex nodded.
“I know I am.” Gray picked up his glass and downed the last of his wine. “I’ve seen you and Nicky together, and I’ve also seen some of the worst family situations the city can puke up. What you’ve given to your son is more than most.”
“I imagine you’ve seen some pretty bad things in your life,” Alex said, and something in the intent way she was looking at him made him wonder if she was referring to his current job or when he was in the military.
Something he didn’t want to think about. Right now, he was enjoying getting to know Alex better, and he wanted to know more. “What are your plans after you get your interior design license?”
“As long as Nicky is okay, I’d like to start my own business.” She topped off their glasses with the last of the wine. “Between Cassie’s contacts and Daisy’s florist shop connections, I might be able to acquire some well-paying clientele. Daisy’s my biggest supporter.”
Gray took another sip of wine. “You two seem pretty tight.”
Alex nodded and smiled. “She’s the sister I never had. I’d do anything for her.”
“I can see that.” And he could. Alex had already shown him she was a tigress when it came to protecting her son and her best friend. “I also see you could do anything you put your mind to.”
“Thank you.” She laughed softly. “I have lofty aspirations. I only hope I’ll have the opportunity to pursue them.”
For a moment, neither of them said anything, but the unspoken words hung in the air.
If she doesn’t go to jail. If the Pyramid doesn’t kill her.
Sadness shone in Alex’s eyes. “I should apologize,” she said. “All we talked about tonight was me.”
“I don’t mind.” Gray took another slug of wine, relishing the relaxing effect of the alcohol on the tension he and Alex were both under. In fact, he found himself unexpectedly…content? There was no other word for it. He was content sitting in Alex’s kitchen, eating spaghetti, drinking wine, and talking. The easygoing rapport between them was a soothing balm to his typically intense and stressful job.
I could get used to this.
The pregnant pause in the conversation cast a shadow over the evening’s peace and quiet. When Alex began fiddling uncomfortably with the stem of her wineglass, Gray instantly regretted not keeping the conversation going.
“I suppose we should go to bed.” Her eyes widened with horror, as if she suddenly realized what she’d said. Averting her gaze, she added quickly, “I mean, it’s getting late and the briefing is first thing in the morning.”
“The ops meeting isn’t until nine o’clock.” Gray collected their plates and put them in the sink.
Alex gathered their glasses and put the food away while Gray did the dishes. “I guess you’ve got it all figured out.”
“As much as I possibly can.” He paused in the middle of washing a dish to follow Alex’s nervous movements as she finished clearing the table. “But we have to be flexible and prepared for unexpected deviations.”
“What do you mean, deviations?” Alex stood at the open refrigerator door, her eyes questioning.
He set the last plate into the dish rack. “What I mean is that no matter how prepared we are, or how much we review procedures, things happen that we can’t control. Any good cop learns to expect the unexpected.”
“Oh.” She shut the refrigerator door and leaned against the counter, facing the cabinets. “If—if something happens to me tomorrow, will you help Daisy with Nicky? She agreed to be his guardian if anything ever happened to me, but working full-time and being a single mother isn’t easy. She’ll need a good support system.”
Gray was tempted to say that he’d take Nicky in, then a strong protective urge came to him with powerful clarity. He clasped the edge of the counter. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.”
Still staring at the cabinets, Alex nodded. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll go to bed. Good night.”
He wat
ched her head down the hall to her bedroom and heard the door close. He knew she was upset and worried, and she had every right to be. If she changed her mind between now and the meet tomorrow, he’d be relieved. But he knew she wouldn’t.
Gray rechecked the flimsy door locks then made up the green velvet sofa with the bed sheets he’d left there this morning. He tugged his T-shirt over his head, turned off the lights, and lay down.
This is gonna be one long-ass night.
The only sounds came from outside. An occasional car driving down the street. The muted beeping of a car alarm blocks away. A shaft of streetlight streamed into the living room through a gap between the window and curtains, providing sufficient light so that Gray could still dimly make out the furnishings.
Alex really did have a talent. Not that he knew shit about decorating, but he found her apartment warm, comfortable, and pleasing to the eye. In guy-speak, that was a major compliment.
He plumped his pillow and turned onto his side. Sleep didn’t come easily. In fact, it didn’t come at all. When he heard the shower turn on in Alex’s bathroom, he gave in to the inevitable and stopped trying. Ironic, since he’d learned years ago in Afghanistan to fall asleep with a mortar fight going on half a mile away. But here in the peace and quiet of Alex’s apartment… Not happening.
Images of water streaming down her creamy skin, caressing every delectable curve of her body, were killing him. Every second of the next ten minutes—until the water shut off—was sheer torture. He let out a sound that was half groan, half growl then shifted again on the sofa, struggling to find a comfortable position.
If things didn’t end tomorrow night after Alex fulfilled her obligation to the Pyramid, he’d be here every night until they stopped blackmailing her. If it took a month for that to happen, then he’d go without sleep for a month. If it took a year, he’d be sleep-deprived for a year.
A loud crash came from Alex’s bedroom.