Between the Lines

by T Gephart

  “Dad, last time he was here you put him in the ring with Terenzio. He had to ice his ribs for a week.” My poor ill-prepared partner’s visit to my dad’s gym still giving Grayson PTSD.

  “So?” he scoffed, shaking it off like it was no big deal. Terenzio weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and could headbutt a bus and still be standing. “I didn’t see you scared to get in the ring after him. And Terenzio didn’t take it any easier on you.”

  That was true, my own ribs needing some time with the ice. “Yeah, except you’d trained me to take the hits, and I knew what was coming. Poor Grayson thought it was going to be a friendly spar, you can’t blame the guy for not wanting a repeat.”

  “Well that wouldn’t be a problem if he came back.” He winked, shooting me a grin. “Go on, get out of here before my next client arrives. He hits like a five-year-old and I don’t want to embarrass the poor asshole by calling him a pussy in front of you.”

  Accepting the towel my dad handed me, I wiped off before giving him a hug. “Thanks for the workout, tell Mom I said hi.”

  “Will do, Baby doll. Make sure you come visit soon. Emilia is deployed for another two months and your mom misses having her girls home.”

  I nodded, promising to call and visit more often before heading to the locker room.

  The shower stalls weren’t fancy, but the water was hot and felt nice on my tired muscles. The room was also spotless with amazingly soft towels, probably because the women’s locker room didn’t get a lot of action. Most of the people who came through the door rocked the Y chromosome, those of my fellow sex preferring the shiny new Active Fitness chain that opened a few doors down. But I hated group fitness classes, couldn’t stand wheatgrass, and preferred to be trained by someone who had more experience than a three-month online course. And I liked that my dad didn’t pull any punches, pushing me just as hard as any guy who walked through the door.

  Ironic that Tibbs was similar in that way, or at least he had been. And now I was slightly worried things might change. And well, I couldn’t have it both ways, could I? Be grateful he didn’t see me as a “girl” and complain he didn’t want me as a woman. Because that would be psycho.

  After I was clean—and hoping to leave all thoughts of Tibbs down the drain with the soapy water—I dressed and headed back to my apartment. There were still a few hours before I needed to be in Midtown to report for duty, and other than a quick message to assure me he was alive, I hadn’t heard from Miller. And since I was no longer hitting something, I could use the distraction.

  Yep.

  Anything other than think of Tibbs.

  Because unfortunately it wasn’t only his ridiculously hot body that I needed to avoid, it was the sexy, witty, fun side that I’d suddenly discovered as well.

  “Are you going to see her again?” I asked Miller as we walked to our cruiser. “Or you going to keep things casual. If you’re taking a vote, I say play the field a little longer.”

  Grayson had told me that Ariel—the woman he’d met last night—had been more awesome than he could’ve imagined. They laughed and chatted at the bar, and finally went back to her place where he totally forgot about his cheating ex-girlfriend. He didn’t tell me he’d slept with her, but judging by the smile on his face when we’d turned up to the station, I assumed he had.

  He shrugged, getting that stupid look on his face when he got hung up over a girl. “I don’t know, Tessa. I kinda feel like we have a connection. She gets me.”

  “Goddamn it, Miller,” I breathed a breath of frustration. He’d called me by my first name which usually meant he was serious. And considering last night was supposed to be a fling, I didn’t like where the conversation was heading. “You’ve known her for a night, how much of a connection could you have? You can’t fall in love with her. There’s a rule, six months before you can even consider being in love with someone else. You are in complete violation.”

  That was Grayson though. He fell in love hard and fast, which was why he ended up with a broken heart. Still, I’d hoped he’d hold out a little longer, waiting until the second or third date before declaring they had a “connection.”

  He laughed, shoving my shoulder before moving to the driver’s seat. “Oh, yeah? What code are we talking about? Because I’m fairly sure there is no such rule.”

  “Just promise me you’re not going to move in with her or anything,” I slipped into the passenger side of our car, “and for God’s sake, do not propose.”

  “Jesus, Ricci. I know I work fast but not that fast. I promise I’ll talk to you before I make any life-changing decisions.” He settled into the seat beside me, buckling up before hitting the ignition.

  The captain had kept us mostly busy and we hadn’t really had time to chat. But we were heading out to a domestic dispute and I figured I could use the time on the drive over to convince him not to declare his undying love. It was going to be a challenge but I had to at least try.

  “Good. I’ll be like your sobriety sponsor but for relationships. You have to do all ten steps before you can say the L word. And no cutting corners.” I smiled as we pulled out of the lot.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Grayson grinned. “And where did you run off to last night? Nothing take your fancy?”

  We hadn’t discussed my exit, or that I hadn’t left alone, his news taking precedence. It was preferable, if I was honest, not excited to tell him I’d gone home with Tibbs even though nothing had happened. “I wasn’t feeling it.” I chewed on my lower lip, feeling guilty for not coming clean. “And I was tired.”

  He nodded, not questioning my motives because he had no reason to suspect otherwise. “Well, thanks for coming out with me anyway. If you ever need the favor returned, I’m your guy. I’ll even play the jealous boyfriend.” He lowered his voice before turning to me. “Hey asshole, get your hands off my woman.”

  “Great. I’ll remember that.” My eyes rolled, not convinced by his fake meathead routine. “And by the way, my dad thinks you should come back to the gym.”

  Miller shook his head, not even letting the idea settle. “Not happening, Ricci. I like my kidneys too much and would prefer them not to be tenderized.”

  We laughed about my old man on the way to the address, pulling up to the curb when we arrived at the apartment building. The call had come from a neighbor, a couple apparently fighting so loudly there were concerns it had gotten physical.

  “101,” I confirmed with Miller, having already been let into the building by the neighbor who’d called us. “Both have priors so let’s not take any chances.”

  You could never tell what was going to happen when you knocked on someone’s door. Especially if they hadn’t been the ones to call you. But with domestic disputes, there was always that element of uncertainty.

  Did they have a weapon?

  Would they even open the door?

  Were there kids involved?

  And so many variables that we literally had no idea what we were walking into. At least with a drug bust or a burglary, the bad guy was clearly defined. But the last thing you wanted to do was draw a weapon in someone’s home and potentially hurt the person being abused, or worse, someone’s child.

  Miller rapped on the apartment door, no noise coming from the other side, and announced us.

  “Hello?” The chain bolted to the wood obscured most of her face, but it was clear the woman had been crying. “What’s happened? Is George okay?”

  “Ma’am, can we come inside and have a chat?” Miller asked, his shoulders still tense even though the situation didn’t present as hostile. “You’re not in any trouble but we want to make sure you’re fine.”

  His voice was low and soothing, completely non-threatening. I liked that he used his brains as well as his badge and gun, not everyone on the force shared his philosophy.

  My eyes scanned the exterior, glancing down the hall and then over to the stairwell we’d just climbed. The last thing we needed was the other party involved
blindsiding us. And until we were sure he was no longer on the premises, we had to operate on the assumption he still was.

  The woman—Kiera Castle—hesitated, unlatching the chain and opening the door once Miller had shown her his badge. She didn’t say anything though, letting us into the apartment while keeping her mouth shut.

  “We had a call that there were some loud noises coming from this apartment,” I started, careful not to use any accusatory words that might spook or antagonize her. “Is there anyone else in here with you?”

  “It was the T.V.,” Kiera lied, the screen in question completely dark and by the looks of it, not even plugged in.

  I nodded, pretending like I believed that shit and glanced around the small living room. “Did George say when he was coming back?”

  George Phillips wasn’t only her boyfriend, but the other name on the lease. And while it seemed he’d “stepped out” and wasn’t around, he’d been arrested once before for assault as well as possession. Probably the reason he’d ghosted, either high or strung out.

  “I don’t know. He . . .he went to get cigarettes. He might be gone awhile,” she coughed out, possibly a little high herself. “But I promise I’ll keep the noise down so there’s really no reason for you to be here.”

  This wasn’t Kiera’s first rodeo, having an assault charge of her own. Which meant she wasn’t saying anything, maintaining her right to remain silent, and clearly not our biggest fan. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, not seeing any visible signs of battery but needing to ask all the same. “We know you guys were arguing.”

  She shook her head, refusing to admit anything. “I told you it was the tube. George isn’t even here, he’s gone. So unless you have a warrant, you need to leave.”

  Annnnnnnnd there we had it.

  Without any evidence of a crime, and Kiera unwilling to file a complaint, there wasn’t a lot we could do. Unfortunately, that’s the way it went more times than not. Our hands were tied and other than reassuring them that we’d be back, we had to leave and hoped no one ended up hurt or worse.

  Miller let her know she could call us if her recollection of the evening changed or if something happened later when George returned. He left her a card with a number but I had a hunch we wouldn’t be getting that call.

  “She’s lying, and I hate that we’re probably going to be back here sometime soon.” Miller shook his head as we walked back to the street.

  “Hopefully we don’t need to come back with a body bag. But what can we do? We can’t search the place without a warrant.”

  It sucked, but that was the job. And while there were parts that were truly horrible, I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else.

  We were almost back at our cruiser when I noticed a figure leaning against our car. It was Tibbs, his delicious body wrapped in jeans and a sweatshirt, and a grin that spelled trouble widening across his face.

  “Ricci, you working the beat? Who did you piss off?” His head tipped in greeting to Miller but he made no attempt to move from his perch.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but we were responding to a call. You loitering, Tibbs?” I asked, my heartbeat kicking up a beat.

  Having just gotten him out of my head, his appearance both excited and annoyed me.

  Mostly annoyed.

  Or . . . NO, I was annoyed.

  Definitely.

  He casually moved away from the car, waving his hand in the direction of the street. “You know I live a block away. I was just taking a stroll.”

  “Really?” I asked, my head tilted curiously. That was one hell of a coincidence. He was right in front of the address we’d just come out of, around the same time we were leaving? I mean, I wasn’t a bookie, but I’d guess the odds weren’t high.

  “Yep. I like to breathe in that fantastic fresh air.” He took an exaggerated breath, rubbing his hands down his chest. “And it’s such a great night for it.”

  “Are you high, Tibbs?” Miller asked, laughing as he looked on, confused. “We need to call Cap or Chief to come and collect you?”

  Of course Miller had no idea it wasn’t drugs that were responsible for his ridiculous behavior, but some new-found obsession Tibbs obviously had for messing with my head.

  Tibbs gave us both a reassuring—not that I felt it—smile before addressing my partner. “All good, Miller. How was last night? Sorry if pulling Ricci away left you without cover, you seemed like you had it handled though.”

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Firstly, I hadn’t even mentioned to Miller that I’d seen Tibbs last night, let alone had a conversation with him. And the last thing I wanted him to think was that we’d been discussing his personal biz. Even though, I guess we had. But only because Tibbs and Leighton had seen him with a woman and asked about Maxine, not because I was trying to gossip. And secondly, I didn’t want anyone—including Miller—thinking we went home together. Okay, so maybe we did, but NOT like that. And nothing sure as hell happened.

  Right on cue, Miller turned to me, his eyebrows flirting with his hairline. “Oh really? Yeah, my night was great. Doesn’t sound as interesting as yours and Tessa’s though. Maybe you guys should fill me in.”

  “I took him back to my place, made him strip to his underwear, and then tossed him out,” I chuckled. The irony that everything I’d said was the truth wasn’t lost on me. “So not a lot to tell.”

  Tibbs laughed, amused by my retelling. “And how much did you think about me after I left?” He leaned in closer, his voice more seductive than necessary. “Be honest.”

  He.

  Was.

  Such.

  An.

  Asshole.

  Not only was he taunting me—very deliberately, I might add—while I was at work, but he was doing it in front of Miller.

  He wanted a reaction. Some kind of continuation of the game we’d played last night because he was still rotated off and was bored. And that it aggravated me, I’m sure was a bonus.

  “You guys need a minute? I’ll just go check in with dispatch.” Miller tried unsuccessfully to hide his smirk as he unlocked the cruiser and hopped in.

  Traitor.

  “Why are you here, Tibbs? And why are you trying to make it sound like something happened last night? Are you that hard up for action that you need to fabricate it?” My hand went to the butt of my gun, if for nothing else to remind him I had one and choosing his words wisely would be advised. Hell, if it wouldn’t get me paperwork, I’d have pulled it out and beat him over the head with it.

  He didn’t even blink, not at all perturbed by the evil stare I was giving him or the weapon my hand was resting on. His ever-present cocky grin just got wider. “And why are you trying to make it sound like nothing happened? I thought you and your partner share everything. You didn’t let him know who you went home with? Ricci, is there trouble in paradise between you and Miller?” He mock gasped. “I always thought you guys were rock solid.”

  “I didn’t tell Miller because there was nothing to tell. You and I both know that last night was . . .” I paused, trying to remember what possessed me to invite a guy I was extremely attracted to but knew there was no future with to my apartment. I wasn’t drunk, so that wasn’t an excuse. Poor judgment? Lack of entertainment? In need of a distraction? Yeah, any of those would do, but I wasn’t sure any of them fit.

  “Nothing,” I finally added, not able to find another word. Because really, that’s exactly what it had been.

  “You need to expand your vocabulary, Ricci, but it’s cool. It’s fine if you want to deny that getting me back to your apartment was the highlight of your night, I’ll survive. But unlike you, I can admit that I kinda liked being there with you. And I think we should maybe do it again. This time I vote you take your clothes off. Only seems fair.”

  “Are you insane, Tibbs?” I spat out, wondering if maybe we shouldn’t haul him in for a 72-hour psych hold. He couldn’t be serious? And if he wasn’t
, he was taking messing with me to a whole level that wasn’t appreciated. “You do realize I have handcuffs and a gun, right?”

  He leaned in, keeping his voice tight between the two of us. “Ricci, kinky stuff like that is a turn on. So if you want to cuff me, you’ll get no objections from me.”

  And that was how my career would surely end.

  Police brutality charges filed against me because I beat the hell out of one of FDNY’s finest. Because as much as he was an ass, he was an amazing firefighter so of course it would seem unprovoked.

  Damn it, Ricci.

  Why didn’t you just go home alone last night?

  Justin

  SITTING AT HOME and listening to a police scanner wasn’t what I’d usually call a good use of my time. It had its advantages from time to time—like if there was something going on in the neighborhood. But other than that, I usually left it to conspiracy theorists and nerdy teenagers who hadn’t discovered fucking yet. But knowing Tessa Ricci was going to be on duty was too much of a temptation, especially since I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all night.

  It wasn’t just her hot body either, although, Jesus, I hadn’t been able to get that off my mind. Never going to be able to unsee it, that was for sure. And it was going to feature heavily any time I felt the need to jerk off. Which surprise, surprise, was a lot since last night.

  But more than just her body, was an interest I couldn’t quite shake. The fascination with her, and finding out what made her tick, rated high on my list of priorities.

  I knew surface stuff, about as much as you can know about someone you’d seen casually. But as far as I was concerned, I was going in completely blind, not having a clue about the woman she really was.

  And that was going to change.

  The sooner, the better.

  Which was why the minute I heard Ricci and Miller were responding to a possible domestic situation literally a block from where I lived, well, I saw that as a sign.