Perfect Fit

by Carly Phillips

  Sam turned to his father. “Dad, let’s go watch some television.” He helped his father stand up from the chair, and the two men left the room.

  Cara turned to Mike, assuming he’d be worried about his mom. Instead she was surprised to find him staring at her with his usual intensity.

  Gone was the lighthearted man who joked with his sister, and the predatory look in his eyes made Cara so hot she squirmed in her seat.

  “What?” she asked into the silence.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  “Somewhere we can be alone for a few minutes.” He held out his hand to her.

  No way could she refuse.

  She placed her palm against his. He gripped her hand and led her down a short hall to what must be his old bedroom. No sooner had she entered than he shut the door, turned, picked Cara up, and bounced her onto his bed.

  “Now tell me about those old boyfriends.”

  From his position above her, Mike stared into Cara’s wide eyes and waited for an answer, his heart beating too rapidly in his chest.

  “Are you going to tell me about old girlfriends?” she shot back.

  Spunk. She had it in spades. He liked it even as she created a shitstorm of trouble in his head.

  “Adam? Kevin?” The names sounded like sandpaper on his tongue.

  Cara evenly met his gaze. “Tiffany?”

  He groaned. Turnabout was fair play, and he deserved the pointed question. “Last I heard through the grapevine, meaning my mother, she moved out of state and got married.”

  “Regrets?” Cara asked.

  He raised his head. “You don’t do anything halfway,” he muttered.

  “Neither do you.”

  He grinned.

  She didn’t.

  “Not one damned regret.”

  “Now, why the grilling? What’s gotten into you?” she asked. “Seriously.”

  Good question. One he’d been asking himself over and over. Unfortunately, he knew the answer. “You’ve gotten into me.” He leaned in close, bracing one knee on the mattress, his arm on the headboard behind her. “You make me crazy.”

  A dimple puckered her cheek, and he could tell she’d liked the admission. “Okay, since you came clean, I will too. I heard from two old boyfriends.”

  Their bodies were so close, he could only feel and breathe her in. “And?”

  “Both married. Neither interested me beyond some memories anyway. Why do you care?”

  Damned if he knew. He’d never asked any woman about who else she was seeing. He hadn’t cared. “Because while we’re together, you’re mine.”

  Her breath came out in a whoosh of air. “We’re together?”

  “We’re not?” he asked, his words a definite dare.

  Mike knew he was being unreasonable, an arrogant ass, making demands without any discussion at all, but she brought out the caveman in him.

  She studied him long and hard, making him wonder if she’d just slap him and storm out. He’d deserve it if she did.

  Instead she reached out and slid her hand around his neck, pulling him closer. “You’re going to break my heart,” she murmured.

  And there it was. The lightning bolt of panic crashed over him hard. Yet oddly, he didn’t pull away. “No hearts involved,” he said instead.

  “Right.” A flicker of something, suspiciously like hurt, crossed her face before she covered her emotions.

  He didn’t like that she hid her thoughts from him, never mind that he’d all but instructed her to do so. Her tongue slid over her lush, pink lips, and the single stroke broke his control. He crushed his mouth to hers and kissed her for all he was worth. Kissed her to take away her pain from last night, to soothe the hurt he’d probably just inflicted with his careless but necessary words, but mostly to assure himself she was on board.

  His.

  For now.

  To his relief, she reciprocated, opening to him and letting him inside. His tongue stroked and glided, tangled with hers, and suddenly everything was right inside him once more. No more anger or jealousy or mixed-up emotions he didn’t recognize, understand, or know what to do with. He groaned and came down on top of her, unable to hold his weight up anymore and needing to feel her solid and real beneath him.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair and held on, holding her own thrust for thrust of their tongues and bodies until the call of his mother’s voice brought him back to reality.

  It wasn’t easy, but he dragged himself off her and flopped to his side, placing an arm above his head. “Dessert’s probably on the table,” he said, willing his overheated body to calm down.

  “I thought that was dessert.”

  He chuckled, amazed at her ability to go with the flow no matter the circumstances.

  “But we shouldn’t be doing this here anyway.” She scrambled off the bed and paused at the small mirror, wiping beneath her eyes and fixing her tousled hair.

  “I should go back first,” she said. “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I was in the bathroom.”

  As if his family wouldn’t figure out what they’d been doing in here? But Mike didn’t want to upset Cara by pointing that out. “I’ll be out in a few.” As soon as he wouldn’t embarrass himself, Mike thought.

  After Mike’s ridiculously possessive behavior at his parents’ house, he and Cara managed not to cross paths for the next few days. Mike used the time to get himself under control and look into the cold case and the cash left in the evidence room for all these years. He wasn’t kidding when he said they needed to upgrade the computer system. The one they had was shit, and in this day and age, that wasn’t acceptable.

  For now, he had to go with handwritten notes and people’s memories, and the only person in Serendipity who knew about the case wasn’t talking. He tapped his pen against the desk, thinking about various ways to approach this case. Why hadn’t the feds stepped in and taken the money? That was one key issue. If they had, the cash wouldn’t have been in the evidence locker for anyone to tamper with.

  He frowned and thought some more. Finally it clicked. He had a contact in the Federal Bureau of Narcotics from his undercover ops in the city who’d have access to any database. Too bad she wouldn’t help unless he went to see her in person, which meant a trip to New York. The drive to Manhattan would take only an hour.

  Mike had just hung up the phone after arranging a meeting later that afternoon when the sound of familiar laughter drifted through his open office door. His gut clenched at the too-tempting, feminine sound. Mike rose to his feet and walked to the door, pausing to take in the scene in the squad room. A group of officers stood together, all men with the exception of Cara, who was still laughing at something one of the guys had said. Then she turned to Rafael Marcos and patted his cheek, a saucy grin on her face.

  Mike wanted to be where the action was, not holed up in an office, and he strode out to join them. As soon as they noticed him, all laughter stopped, and everyone, including his brother, who was still on desk duty, went their separate ways and got back to work.

  Mike frowned. Was that what his presence did to people? Was he that much of a hard-ass boss? He didn’t think his father operated that way, and as much as he wanted to make his mark while in Serendipity, a stifling workplace wasn’t something he desired. It wasn’t a healthy atmosphere for his cops—or for him.

  “I didn’t see you on the schedule today,” Mike said to Cara, still silently mulling over his dilemma.

  She looked up at him. “I’m not. But I didn’t have plans and thought it would be a good time to get some paperwork done.” Her tone was stiff and formal, completely appropriate for work.

  Damned if he didn’t hate it anyway. “When you’re finished, what do you say about a trip to New York to do a little digging into your cold case?”

  Her eyes lit up at the idea. “What kind of digging?”

  “I have a contact I want to hit up for some information.”

  “Sweet.” She rubbed
her hands together in excitement. “I’m in!” She glanced at her watch. “Give me an hour?”

  “You got it.”

  She shot him a quick smile before reimmersing herself in work, ignoring him completely.

  It grated on him, how easy she found it to put up barriers here at the station, ignoring the chemistry that sizzled between them when they were alone. Hell, just looking at her, he felt it now. He remembered how she’d looked lying in his old bed, all tousled and well kissed and open. To him.

  If he couldn’t hold it together at work, he really had a problem. Maybe he just needed to get her out of his system. After all, he hadn’t had sex with her since his return. All this teasing and foreplay had him on edge. He needed to get her alone, and though that hadn’t been the plan when he’d asked her to go to Manhattan, it was definitely his agenda now. New York City was his turf, and he knew just where to take her for some long overdue alone time, no interruptions.

  By the time they came back to Serendipity, Mike had no doubt he’d be satisfied and have had his fill. No more jealousy, no more emotional thoughts crashing into his brain. He’d be his cool, calm, collected self once more.

  Since Cara had planned to do some paperwork and head home, she’d worn jeans to the station. When she met Mike at his truck, she discovered he’d changed into denim too, so she didn’t have to worry about being underdressed for whatever meeting they were going to have.

  Unfortunately, the worn, faded denim lovingly hugged Mike’s muscular thighs and tight ass. She sighed, knowing she was doomed to be distracted during this work-related trip.

  “Ready?” he asked, as he slipped his sunglasses onto his face. Leather jacket, jeans, and aviators were a potent combination on this man.

  “Yep.” She pulled her own sunglasses out of her bag and plopped them on, hoping he wouldn’t notice her staring.

  He opened the passenger door for her, and she was struck by what a gentlemanly thing it was for him to do. She settled into her seat, buckling in. He joined her around the other side, and soon they were on their way.

  Since leaving his parents’ house on Sunday, she’d been on edge and off-kilter. Her mind fluctuated from his intense heated words, While we’re together, you’re mine, to his emotional withdrawal and colder reply of No hearts involved.

  She shivered, and he glanced her way.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, turning up the heat without waiting for an answer.

  “Yes. That’ll help.” The lie slipped easily off her tongue as she glanced at him.

  Though it was overcast and looked like snow, the glare forced them both to keep their sunglasses on, and she had a hard time reading him behind the lenses. Still, she didn’t doubt that he desired her. Their sexual chemistry was off the charts, and she’d be stupid to deny herself something she wanted so badly. But she needed to hold on to the stark truth that for Mike, this thing between them was all about sex. And Cara had never been much good doing sex without emotion.

  She bit the inside of her cheek and decided to put all those feelings into a little box, shut the lid, and push them aside to deal with when this relationship was over or Mike left town, whichever came first. She was good at compartmentalizing and shutting down emotions she didn’t want to deal with. She’d had an entire lifetime so far to develop the skill.

  “So tell me about this contact,” she said to Mike.

  “Someone I know from my undercover days. I’m hoping I can be convincing enough to get my friend to dig into the database without raising a red flag. Last thing I need is to put this case on anyone else’s radar,” he muttered.

  “Do you really think Simon knows what happened to those bills?” she asked, unable to reconcile the upstanding police chief and man she knew with someone who’d hold back crucial information on any case.

  “Can you think of another reason he’d go silent on me or Sam?”

  He had a point. “I guess not.”

  The rest of the ride passed in surprisingly comfortable silence. As they drove into the heart of Manhattan, Cara sat up higher in her seat to look out the window. Tall buildings and so many people bundled in their winter coats, some walking their dogs, their kids, and even babies in covered strollers.

  “I can’t imagine living here,” she said, when they stopped at a traffic light.

  “It’s constant activity.”

  A car horn blared in the distance, followed by the wail of a siren—ambulance or police, she couldn’t be certain. “How do you sleep at night?”

  “You get used to it.”

  “I don’t think I could.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll get to find out.”

  She leaned her head against the cool window. “Doubtful. The few times I’ve been here I couldn’t wait to get away from the crowds and all the activity.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. Small-town girl, remember?” She turned to look at his surprised expression and raised a hand in a wave.

  His answering low, sexy chuckle echoed throughout the car. “We’re here.” He turned into a parking garage in the middle of the busy street and pulled down a long, steep ramp, ending where a man waited to take his truck.

  She hopped out and met Mike around the back of the vehicle.

  “Ready to brave the big bad city?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a farmer girl, for God’s sake.” And she had her mini Glock holstered behind her.

  His small laugh turned into a bigger one. Next thing she knew, he’d grabbed her hand and walked up the steep incline to street level. “The place we’re going isn’t too far. Just around the corner.”

  She nodded and kept pace with him, surprised he hadn’t let go of her hand. A definite spike of awareness settled low in her stomach at the prolonged contact, heating her from the inside out and helping ward off the cold winter wind. Serendipity was just as chilly, but the wind swirling between the high buildings lent a bite to the air, and she was grateful when he paused in front of what looked like a bar and grill.

  He pulled open the door, holding it for her to step ahead of him. Inside, the place was small and dark, with low lighting and what appeared to be wooden booths lining the walls, but there was a warmth to the overall look.

  “Mikey!” A booming voice greeted them, taking Cara off guard. She’d have thought their contact would be someone quieter, maybe sitting back in a booth somewhere waiting to talk. Instead a large man with salt-and-pepper hair and a large paunch strode up to Mike, a big grin on his face.

  “Bill Carlson, you old son of a bitch. How have you been?” Mike slapped the big burly man on the shoulder, but Bill apparently wasn’t satisfied because he pulled Mike into a brotherly hug.

  “I’m good,” the man said. “Damn good.”

  Mike stepped back and looked the man over. “Owning this place agrees with you. I think you’re eating too much of your own food.”

  The other man, who had to be a good two decades older than Mike, merely grinned. “It’s not just the bar, it’s the woman. I married Lucy, and she makes sure there’s a home-cooked meal for me whenever I walk in the door.” He patted his round stomach.

  Mike’s eyes opened wide. “You tied the knot? I thought you said, and I quote, ‘No damned woman will shackle me in this lifetime.’”

  The big man shook his head and laughed. “Live and learn, buddy. Live and learn. So who’s this pretty lady?”

  Cara blushed at the description, but she was equally curious to know how Mike knew the man, since he seemed so happy to see him.

  “Cara Hartley, meet Bill Carlson. Bill was a detective before he got soft and retired,” Mike said, with a teasing glint in his eye.

  Cara noticed he’d opted not to give Bill a description of who Cara was to him, and she tried not to let it bother her. Better no description than one she wouldn’t want to hear.

  “Soft happens to all of us, buddy,” Bill said before turning his attention back to Cara. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hartley.”
r />   She shook his extended hand. “Call me Cara,” she said. “And it’s nice to meet you too.”

  Bill glanced at Mike and cocked his head to the side. “I didn’t know you were bringing company,” Bill said quietly, but not so softly that Cara couldn’t hear.

  Mike shrugged. “Didn’t seem important.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.” Bill stepped back, his gaze sweeping over them. “Last booth on the right. It’s big enough for three. I’ll be in the back if you need me.” He paused and glanced at Cara. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, before turning and heading back through the double doors leading to the kitchen.

  Cara drew a deep breath. “Do you want me to wait here?” She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that his contact wasn’t expecting her and probably wouldn’t be happy Mike had brought her along.

  “No.” Without another word of explanation, Mike started for the back, and Cara followed.

  They reached the back booth where Mike’s contact was sitting, and she was stunning. A knockout from her long, brown hair accented with beautiful blond highlights, tanned skin, and perfect features, to the way she didn’t just wear her leather jacket and purple scarf—she owned it.

  Cara’s mouth went dry as Bill’s words suddenly made sense. And Cara was suddenly aware that her dark green, puffy down jacket made her look like the Michelin man in comparison.

  “Mike!” the woman said, gliding out of the booth and plastering herself against him like so much more than an old friend.

  Cara gritted her teeth and promised herself she wouldn’t give in to insecurity. Petty jealousy? Yeah, she’d allow herself that. What she wouldn’t allow? For Mike to see how this affected her. She wondered if he and this woman had been lovers. Or did this woman just wish they were?

  To Mike’s credit, he grasped the other woman’s forearms and pried her off him. “Always good to see you too. We have some questions for you.”

  “We?” She flipped her hair over her shoulders as she became aware of Cara’s presence for the first time.

  “Cara Hartley is a police officer in Serendipity. We’re working on a case, and we need your brand of expertise,” Mike said, gesturing to the booth, obviously ready to sit. “Cara, this is Lauren Nannariello.”