by Tessa Bailey
She shook herself. “Huh?”
“The truth. Why did the man let you leave? If he’d taken you home with an injury, he would have gotten a pass for taking down the man who delivered it.”
“You don’t know that.”
Henrik took another bite while considering her. “I’m not going to let it go.”
Ailish stabbed her fork into her French toast, cut off a bite and put it into her mouth before she could say something mean. Like what a lousy breakfast date he was turning out to be. Henrik seemed to read the sentiment in her eyes, however, because he let loose one of those category ten sighs that she felt all the way across the table. “Okay, my turn. What does your squad want from me?”
“Specifically?” He watched her like a hunter watches a deer in the woods. “Information about the Bookie Cookie.”
Ailish choked on a bite of eggs, but held up a hand when Henrik all but dived out of the booth to reach her. “I’m fine. I just…” She accepted the orange juice he offered and took a long pull. “I know Chicago PD was interested, but I didn’t realize she was on your radar.”
Henrik sat back down, looking slightly green. “You know who she is?”
Tread lightly, girl. “I’ve heard my father speak about her.” She thought of the grueling hours she’d spent in the interrogation chair. I can’t go back there. And it was entirely possible Henrik wanted to put her right back in that situation, despite his assurances to the contrary. “I was transporting money for the Bookie Cookie when I was arrested, but my father has always been the middleman. I couldn’t help the police then, and I can’t help you now.”
“If you were to go home…” Henrik broke off, appearing to gather himself, before starting again. “If you were to go back to your father’s house, would you be in a position to aid the investigation?”
Her skin felt too tight. “Why are you talking like a robot?”
“I have a job to perform,” he enunciated. “But I don’t have to like it.”
Ailish could barely process that explanation, assaulted as she was by visions of men stripping out of bloody clothing in her home’s foyer. Being told to remain in her room for the evening while meetings took place downstairs. Meetings that her solid wood bedroom door didn’t always muffle completely. “I don’t have to like it, either.”
“Ailish—”
A man stopped alongside their booth, interrupting the stare-down between her and Henrik. The newcomer held out a newspaper to Henrik, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he’d intruded on a tense moment. “You interested in the sports page? Thought I’d offer instead of throwing it out.”
Jaw flexing, Henrik took the paper with a nod. “Thank you.”
Little multicolored pieces trickled in from her memory bank, forming a bigger picture in her conscious. Henrik holding a newspaper…those hands, loosely gripping the sides…surrounded by green. That couldn’t be right. Could it? Ailish focused on his hands and let the image spread out farther. Henrik in navy blue. A color he hadn’t worn since arriving last night.
“I remember where I saw you before. I remember.” She was frozen in her seat, a chill settling over her skin. “In the park. You were reading the newspaper.” Her fingers rose to massage the hollow of her neck. “You were wearing a badge and a uniform. Standing right next to a police car.”
He stayed very still. “Ailish—”
“What is this? Are you cop or not?” Reminding herself she hadn’t told him anything that could implicate her in a crime, she tried to remain calm. But she couldn’t deny feeling hurt, which was silly. She’d only known him for a matter of hours. Her lack of experience with making acquaintances gave her an unbalanced perspective on what was normal. That was all. This man could very well be there to dupe her into confessing things that could put her away for a long time.
“Please stop looking at me like that.”
She threw her paper napkin down on the table. “Like what? Like you’re kind of maybe a liar?”
He shook his head. “God, you can’t even insult me properly. How did you stay so goddamn sweet in this world, Ailish?” Apparently he didn’t expect her to answer—not that she could while processing what he’d said—because he plowed on. “Stop looking at me like you’re just seeing me for the first time.”
“That’s how it feels.”
He visibly centered himself. “When you saw me in the park, I was still a cop. I am not a cop now. The department took my badge.”
Huh. She hadn’t been expecting that, but her paranoia still didn’t quite allow her to believe him. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Ailish started to slide out of the booth. “I’m leaving.”
Henrik had a good head on his shoulders, because he didn’t try to argue with her. He removed his wallet, tossed a handful of bills onto the table, and trailed after her as she sailed through the diner. They didn’t speak again until they were outside in the parking lot, giving her time to think. To formulate a plan. Her father would have called what just happened a game changer. When a man lied to you once, he would do it again without fail. Caine might have taught her a lot of skewed philosophies, but that wasn’t one of them.
She started to open the passenger side door, but Henrik’s hand slapped onto the car’s exterior to stop her. “I’m not a cop. I told you that up front, and it wasn’t a lie.”
“But you did lie about meeting me before.” Trying her best to ignore the way his body heat seemed to increase as he crowded her against the car, Ailish searched his expression. “You do remember seeing me that day, don’t you?”
His head fell forward. Both hands lifted as if they were operating against his will to cage Ailish between his body and the truck. “I remember.”
Pain sparked in her chest. “I’m just supposed to believe it’s a coincidence that you’re here now? After you were watching me in the park?”
“That’s not…no. It wasn’t like that.” His shoulders were bunched, laden with tension. “They stripped me of my badge after I saw you in the park. But instead of prison time, I was put to work on the squad. I never…actively worked on your or your father’s cases prior to now. Even now, my involvement is unofficial.”
Had he moved closer? Like…way closer? She couldn’t breathe without getting a nose full of man. Maybe she should stop trying to store it away like a squirrel stocking nuts for the winter. He was a possible enemy, and she should not want him to keep on crowding her.
“Look at me, Ailish. I’m on your side. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that one thing.”
She wished like hell she could just trust him, but she’d already decided on the best course of action. This taste of freedom had addicted her, and she wouldn’t give it up. Wouldn’t lose the ability to make her own decisions because of one beautiful man. “Was there a please in there?” she murmured.
Henrik’s eyes closed, but when he opened them again, a fire had lit in their depths. “Fuck, baby.” His belt buckle pressed against her belly button. “I don’t know if I can keep myself from kissing you much longer. Not with all that sweet coming out of your mouth.”
“Maybe you should wait until we get home.” She arched her back, letting Henrik see the points of her nipples, reveling in his groan. “In case you get carried away and need somewhere to lay me down.”
His breath heaved out. “Stop talking like that.”
Ailish made a figure eight with her hips. “If you kiss me, you’ll want to get your hands under my skirt. You can’t do that in the parking lot.”
“I’d like to prove you wrong.”
The thickness in his voice settled in her belly like syrup-soaked marshmallows. God, she wanted to provoke him more. Her nature was singing and pawing, trying to get loose. But in order for her plan to work, she needed to be home. Needed to be with him in private.
Ailish crossed her wrists behind his neck. “Take me back to the cabin?”
Chapter Five
Jesus. If any more
of Henrik’s blood ran south, he’d be seeing double.
Ailish sat beside him on the bench seat of his truck, her hand resting on his inner thigh. Her breast flattened against his right triceps. They could both see the tented fly of his pants, so there was no pretending it didn’t exist. It was right. There. Growing more swollen by the minute, as if trying to tempt her hand into making that final journey and giving him a good hard stroke.
The morning had not gone according to plan. Their encounter in the park had been months ago and so damn brief, no one should remember it. No one, save himself, who’d read between the lines of her statement and heard a cry for help. A cry he’d been powerless not to answer. Now he knew why. Some intuitive part of him had seen the goodness inside her. She couldn’t hide it. The very idea of her behind bars with hardened criminals turned him inside out. Thank God he’d gotten rid of the evidence against her. That was the only sentiment he could muster.
Unfortunately, the girl was pissed as hell at him, despite her attempts to prove the opposite, by all but climbing onto his lap and giving him the world’s most brutal erection. Even worse, he’d set himself way back in the trust department by not admitting he remembered seeing her in the park that day. He had a lot of work to do, especially if she was going to feel secure enough to testify.
As of now, Henrik was pretty sure Ailish was compiling a mental list of ways to leave him sputtering like an asshole in the dust, so returning to Chicago with her in tow seemed unlikely. But he would do his job and protect her until a decision was reached. There was a twisted part of him that hoped Caine would send a couple more men their way, just so he could send the man a message. No one touched Ailish on his watch. And someone would be paying for her black eye. Since the man who delivered the injury was dead, it would need to be Caine. The man who’d sent violent men to retrieve his own daughter.
Henrik released a pent-up breath. If he allowed his protective streak toward Ailish to build, there wouldn’t be a hope of resisting her when they got back to the cabin. And his dick needed to stay where it belonged. Inside his pants. Already she was suspicious of his motivation, and sex would only increase that distrust. Make her question his intentions.
What exactly are your intentions?
As they pulled into the rental campsite, Ailish’s hand inched higher on his leg. “Almost there.”
You’re telling me. “I told you last night, Ailish. We can’t.”
Okay, he’d barely managed to convince himself with that utter lack of conviction, let alone Ailish. “You said you wanted to kiss me.”
“Wanting and doing are two different things.”
“Now you’re talking about doing.” She clucked her tongue. “Make up your mind, Growler.”
Jesus, she was so damn cute, he almost threw the truck into park right there, on the side of the road, just so he could tell her so. “I changed my mind about something. Last night, you said you don’t usually talk to men…the way you spoke to me.”
“About my see-through panties?”
“Yeah, that.” He sounded like someone was strangling him. Probably because he could already feel the subsequent regret from his next question. Not to mention they were having a casual conversation about her underwear. “What do you usually do?”
Ailish ran her fingertips up the inside of his arm. “Little touches like this. Or straightening a tie when it’s not really crooked.”
Henrik stuffed down the urge to clap a hand over her mouth, make her stop talking about what she did to entice other men. But finding out what made her tick was more important.
“There was one man who worked for my dad who had to leave the room whenever I ate a Popsicle. I think he hated me a little.”
Christ. Henrik might have actually felt bad for the guy if he didn’t wish him permanent blindness and non-opposable thumbs. “Why do you do it?” he managed.
“Because they kept me confined. Ran my life. I needed a way to feel like I had something…some kind of weapon.” Her touch slid ever so slightly higher on his jeans, the very tip of her middle finger brushing his cock. “Since I couldn’t date, I learned to be content with being wanted.”
“Yeah?” he rasped. “You must be pretty damn content.”
She turned her face into his neck…and just exhaled. “No. I don’t think I’d be content with just teasing you. I’d want more.”
Regret didn’t even begin to cover what he felt for leading them into this little question-and-answer period. He hadn’t thought it possible to need her more, but she’d slammed her foot down on the accelerator pedal of his lust like a Formula One driver. The remainder of his functioning brain zeroed in on two things she’d said. I couldn’t date…I learned to be content. “Ailish, baby, are you a virgin?”
“No,” she said, her focus on his mouth. “But I don’t think that one guy in high school would be an even match for you.”
It was lucky they had just reached the parking area, because Henrik might have crashed the truck otherwise. He shoved the car into park, his intention to get out of the vehicle to calm himself down. Breathe through the wild arousal his body had been gripped with. Yeah, he just needed to get out of the truck. Now.
Henrik yanked Ailish onto his lap sideways and fit her snug ass right over his cock. Then he gripped her hips and moved her in a circle, groaning at the friction, the openmouthed look of awe on her face. “No, Ailish, he wouldn’t be a match for me. Because once I’d been inside your body, you sure as fuck wouldn’t be referring to me as the guy afterward. I’d be the man whose name can still make you sweat through your clothes. The man whose name makes you cross your thighs and palm your tits. Don’t ever speak about me in the same breath as the guy. Ever again.”
Her wide-eyed shock lasted a few beats before her spine snapped straight. “Was there a pl—”
“Please.” Lord, this girl was going to drive him crazy. “All right? Please don’t ever do it again.”
Ahhhh then Ailish just melted into him, her bottom doing this half scoot, half drag on his lap and wrenching a curse from the depths of his soul. With his harsh sentiment still hanging in the air, her lips settled against his. Light, light, like fog rolling in above lake water. Hell broke loose inside him despite the gentleness of her kiss, however, his bones expanding, the organ guarded by his rib cage booming, booming. He could actually see the white flag of surrender lifting. To the kiss. Just a kiss. Pulling away—especially when she suddenly seemed so unsure—was beyond his capabilities where Ailish was concerned.
Henrik licked along her bottom lip. “Part your lips for me and I’ll give you a kiss.” He cupped her right knee and squeezed. “But you keep your thighs together. If you open them up like you want more than my mouth, I’ll stop.”
“Okay,” she whispered, appearing dazed. “For now.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to issue another warning, but she mimicked the way he’d licked her bottom lip…and Henrik fell into the abyss. He released her knee in favor of bringing her head close, close as possible, until their mouths were meshed so tight it was an effort to work his lips. And fuck, it was well worth the effort, because she tasted like coffee and fruit and hazy afternoon sex. He couldn’t even recall a time he’d experienced afternoon sex, but this is how he’d always imagined it. Slow and greedy. Mouths picking up speed, lips growing slick. Hands that grew steadily more demanding, the way his were. Twining in her long red hair, tugging, growling in answer to the way she gasped at his treatment.
She did this goddamn thing, running her fingertips over his nipples. Jesus, had he ever liked that before? He sure as shit did now. Even more when she seemed to sense he wanted more…and she scratched at them through his T-shirt. As if those two disks had a direct line to his cock, the swelling between his legs increased, but the flesh had nowhere to go with Ailish sitting right on top of him. Unless he moved her skirt just a little to one side and made room. Don’t do it.
If he shoved her legs apart, there would be a wet spot on her panties. H
e knew right where it would be. And he’d want to palm that wet cotton and slide it up and down her clit. If he allowed himself that privilege, he wouldn’t stop until her back was bumping against the steering wheel.
“No more,” he growled at her mouth. “That’s enough.”
“Not enough,” she panted, her fingers fidgeting with the collar of his T-shirt. “You haven’t given me enough yet.” Those hazel eyes were packed full of challenge as she twisted around in his lap—choking the breath from his lungs—and pushed open the driver’s side door. She hopped out onto the dirt ground and threw a sultry look over her shoulder that had the impact of a right cross. “I guess I’ll just take care of the rest myself.”
Oh fuck no. That hadn’t just happened. Ailish had warned him. She’d told him teasing was her thing, but he hadn’t expected it to put him on his proverbial knees. Not when she came across so innocent and sympathetic. She sure as hell wasn’t sympathetic toward him right now—because he was going to need a medic just watching her walk. That short floaty skirt of hers swung up beneath her ass with every step she took toward the cabin, lapping at the underside of those cheeks. Cheeks that had been wiggling around on his hard dick a few seconds ago. Goddamn, she moved like she wanted it. Wanted it bad. And apparently he’d been programmed with the responsibility to give it to her.
Resist.
Across the courtyard, two men stood looking under the hood of a truck, but when they caught sight of Ailish, their heads whipped around faster than a washing machine spin cycle. Henrik didn’t bother biting back his growl as he shut off the truck and followed Ailish toward the cabin, transferring eye contact between the two men as he went. Yeah, she isn’t staying alone, so don’t even think about it.
Henrik reached the cabin door just as Ailish pushed it open. He expected her to walk straight in, but instead she did the worst thing imaginable. There was a white envelope on the threshold with the rental company’s logo and the word “Invoice” stamped on the front. So naturally, Ailish bent over to pick it up, without even having the decency to bend her knees. And after an hour of being hyperaware of the garment’s abbreviated length, Henrik knew what would be exposed to anyone who happened to be watching outside. His only option was to step forward and hide her backside with his lap and upper thighs.