Table of Contents
Chapter One West
Chapter Two Shani
West
Chapter Three Shani
Chapter Four West
Shani
Chapter Five West
Shani
Chapter Six West
Shani
West
Chapter Seven Shani
West
Chapter Eight Shani
Chapter Nine West
Shani
West
Epilogue West
About the Author
Other Books by Cheryl Douglas
In Too Deep
Book Eight in the Exes Series
Cheryl Douglas
Copyright © by Cheryl Douglas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, including photocopying, graphic, electronic, mechanical, taping, recording, sharing, or by any information retrieval system without the express written permission of the author and / or publisher. Exceptions include brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Persons, places and other entities represented in this book are deemed to be fictitious. They are not intended to represent actual places or entities currently or previously in existence or any person living or dead. This work is the product of the author’s imagination.
Any and all inquiries to the author of this book should be directed to: [email protected]
In Too Deep © 2018 Cheryl Douglas
Chapter One
West
I couldn’t believe I’d been stupid enough to get suckered into this shit. A blind fucking date. Well, not a blind date exactly.
Some random chick had been hitting me up on social media, busting my balls because her favorite hockey team was crushing mine in the playoffs. So I’d opened my big mouth and stuck my size twelve in it. Dinner if she won. A blow job if I did. I was joking about the blow job, of course.
Okay, no, I wasn’t. But it was a moot point now, ‘cause I was sitting at a table at the back of a dimly lit restaurant, waiting to foot the bill for some overpriced dinner. All because our star center had gotten leveled during the second game of the series and hadn’t returned.
Maybe she was gonna stand me up. Wouldn’t surprise me. She was a smartass who loved to bust my chops. I could imagine my phone going off in a few seconds, letting me know I’d been had and she had no intention of showing. It would serve me right for agreeing to a date with a woman who had no photos of herself posted online and used the screen name @ballbuster13 with handcuffs as her avatar.
I didn’t know if she was into kinky shit or what, but if she was, I could get on board. I’d owned a gentleman’s club for eight years with my brother, and there wasn’t much I hadn’t seen or done in the back room of that place. It was classier than most strip joints, but everyone came for the same reason. To get off.
I was downing my second scotch when I damn near dropped my glass. It couldn’t be. Shani-fucking-Derrah. The girl who’d had my balls in a vise and wouldn’t let them go ‘til I begged for mercy. I hadn’t seen her in four years. And she was walking my way. No. Hell no.
“Hey, Travis.”
Still with the last names. “What the fuck are you doing here, Shani?”
Shit, she was even more beautiful than I remembered. Copper-colored hair and eyes shouldn’t work with olive skin, but on her, it did. And those bangin’ curves didn’t hurt either. Lord have mercy. One look at her and I was going down for the count again. I’d stopped her cold turkey, ‘cause that was the only way to get over a woman like her. But there were no group meetings for poor saps who got addicted to a sexy-as-fuck cop who played at being a hooker.
Yeah, my ex was a cop… who’d gotten shot in the line of duty. I’d begged her to quit as I held her hand in that hospital bed, pleading with her not to die on me. She told me she would quit… as soon as I sold my club. We were at a stalemate. I couldn’t watch her die, and she couldn’t watch me make a buck “objectifying women.” So she walked away. Hardest fucking thing I ever had to do was watch her leave.
She slid into the bench seat across from me, losing her cropped leather jacket in the process. “Isn’t it obvious?” She licked her full lips. “I’m here to collect. Your team lost. Mine won.”
She was from Chicago originally, and even though she lived in Pittsburgh now, she was still loyal to her home team. It had always been a bone of contention between us, since we were both huge hockey fans. And my kid brother just happened to be the starting goalie for the home team. Not that she gave a shit about that. She used to break his balls every chance she got too, telling him he had hands like feet and needed to get his head out of his ass every once in a while if he expected to stop a puck. He loved the abuse she dished out. The masochist.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was you.” I was still staring at her, trying not to notice her tits. It wasn’t easy. She was wearing a deep V-neck and the girls were on full display. In my former line of work, spectacular tits came with the territory. But those were usually fake. Shani’s were real… and huge… and so perfect my fingers twitched just looking at them.
“Hey! Up here, asshole.” She pointed at her eyes.
Man, I’d missed this woman. No other had ever, or would ever, compare to Shani. Uh oh. I better stop thinking like that or I’d be back in full-blown addiction mode.
“What do you want to drink?” I asked, tongue in cheek as I perused the wine menu. Not that I expected her to order a glass of wine. Her favorite song back in the day had been Toby’s Keith’s “Whiskey Girl” ‘cause she loved the way the hard stuff burned.
“What do you think?”
I beckoned to our waiter. Holding up my glass, I said, “Another one for me and the lady will have the same.”
When he raised an eyebrow at her choice of beverage, Shani gave him the stink-eye. I was pretty sure it wasn’t every day he encountered a woman who looked like her and ordered thirty-five-year-old Old Pulteney.
“Tight-ass,” she muttered as he walked away, making me chuckle.
She’d never been shy about speaking her mind, and that was one of the many reasons I’d fallen in love with her. The way we’d met was crazy. She’d come in to inform me one of my employees had been busted for prostitution and wouldn’t be at work for a couple of days. A favor, she said, because the woman had been afraid of losing her job and had kids to feed.
I’d tried to charm her. She blew me off. I asked her out. She said no. Then I begged. She laughed in my face. Good thing the police station was only a few blocks from my place. I stopped by with little gifts until I wore her down. Espresso. Pastries. No flowers for this girl. She would have laughed and thrown them back in my face.
But slowly, I wore her down and she wore me out. In bed, this girl was a firecracker. The best I’d ever had. And that’s saying a lot, ‘cause I ain’t no choir boy.
“So what’ve you been up to, gorgeous?”
She rolled her eyes. She hated being called gorgeous. She was, but she hated it. Claimed it was a hazard in her line of work. Ugh. Her line of work. I hated thinking about her putting herself in danger every goddamn day.
“You first,” she said before gliding her tongue over her lips.
She wasn’t doing it to be sexy or coy, like most women. She didn’t even have to try. She could turn a guy on just by looking his way. I ought to know—I had the scars on my knuckles to prove it. Yeah, I’d gotten into it with a few too many guys shooting their filthy mouths off about my woman. They didn’t know she carried a gun and a big stick, and I wasn’t about to tell them. Let them find out for themselves if they ever met her in a dark alley.
“Sold
my half of the club to my brother.” I let that sink in before I smiled. “And you thought I’d never do it.”
She tried to hide her surprise by perusing the leather-bound menu. “Huh, guess you’re smarter than I thought.”
Compliments were few and far between from her, even back-handed ones, so I’d take it. “How ‘bout you? Still dodging bullets?”
“Nope.” She sat up straighter, avoiding eye contact. “Private investigator now. My specialty is catching cheating scumbags.”
She had a thing against cheating husbands, since her father had been one. He’d had another family her mother knew nothing about, and when she found out he’d been living a double life for twenty-two years, she took a bottle of pills and never woke up.
“What happened to the force?”
She raised a shoulder. “Had another run-in with a gun. They wanted to stick me behind a desk. I said hell no.”
I stared at her, my voice shaky when I said, “Shit, you were shot again?”
“A flesh wound,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It was nothing. But they were pissed I wouldn’t submit to counseling. It’s protocol, and since it wasn’t my first rodeo, they really pushed for it. I pushed back. In the end, we had to part ways.” She gave me a rare smile. “Amicably, of course.”
Part ways. Amicably. Those were the same words she’d tossed at me when she suggested we split. They’d felt like a boulder in the gut then… and still did. Shit. I shouldn’t have been breathing the same air as this woman. She was toxic to me. Even without our careers as a stumbling block, we were still bad for each other.
She’d made it clear from the beginning she didn’t do monogamous relationships. Except with me she did. ‘Cause I told her if I ever caught another fucker putting his hands on her, I’d put him in the hospital, and she knew I wasn’t blowing smoke. My brothers and I had a reputation, but we’d always skirted the law, another bone of contention with my law-enforcing ex.
The waiter delivered our drinks and took our order before I raised my glass. “Here’s to starting over.”
“Starting over?” she asked, allowing me to tap my glass against hers. “What does that mean?”
“I just sold the club a few weeks ago. I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life now.” Thankfully I had a few million bucks to show for my work, so I could afford to take my time deciding.
“What made you decide to sell the club?” She raised the glass and tipped it back, not even flinching as the liquor slid down her throat.
Nope. She hadn’t softened a bit. Still no cracks in her veneer. And I’d looked, thinking if I could find even a hint of vulnerability, she might let me in. Even though I knew she had, she’d never once told me she loved me, and that still stung. Especially since I’d made no secret of my feelings for her.
“Needed a new challenge.”
“Oh yeah? What’s next? Pimping?”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
Yeah, I did. And she knew it.
She hated my club, and all strip joints, because her sister had hit the streets at seventeen. She was using, turning tricks, and stripping in some dive to feed her habit. Katie was the reason Shani became a cop—to try to help girls like her big sister stay out of trouble. Didn’t take her long to realize she couldn’t save women who didn’t want to be saved, but that didn’t keep her from trying.
“Why am I here?” I asked, staring at her. “Why follow me on social media after all these years?”
We hadn’t seen each in four years. We’d only been a couple for two years, but I’d been her longest relationship and she’d been mine.
“Unfinished business, maybe?” she suggested.
“I thought we said everything we had to say when you came to collect your shit from my condo.” Watching her leave, suitcase in hand, had gutted me.
“Maybe I thought of a few more things I’d like to say.” Her eyes darted around, and I could tell she was nervous. Except the Shani I knew didn’t get nervous.
“Go ahead,” I said, sitting back. “I’m listening.”
The waiter returned with our appetizers. Shrimp for me and grilled calamari for her. Waiting for her to say something, I watched her dig in. Her long stretch of silence was killing me. I needed to know why I was really here.
“I assume you don’t have a girlfriend,” she said, reaching for her water glass. “Since you suggested oral as payment in our little wager.”
I chuckled. “You didn’t really believe I meant that, did you?”
“Knowing you? Hell, yeah!”
I smirked. “Okay, maybe I did.”
“Still into casual sex then?” she asked, sounding… hopeful?
“Why? You making an offer I can’t refuse?”
Her head was lowered, her wavy hair falling like a veil over her face. “Maybe.”
I laughed, though it felt as if my airways were suddenly constricted. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why not?” She finally looked at me, and the rare show of vulnerability on her face hit me hard. She was afraid I’d reject her.
“Shani, what the hell’s going on with you?” I demanded, leaning forward. “You don’t just reconnect with your ex out of the blue and suggest casual sex.”
“I’m pretty sure people do it all the time.”
Maybe they did. What the hell did I know? I just knew I’d never cared enough about anyone enough to want a do-over. Except Shani. She was my one big regret. “Not people like you. When you cut ties, those motherfuckers are severed. So what gives?”
“I want a baby.”
I was pretty sure my jaw hit the table. “You what?”
“You heard me.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and I could tell she was forcing herself to look me in the eye. “I’m ready.”
She’s always said that after what went down with her parents, she couldn’t see herself getting married or having kids. I’d come from a pretty solid family, by comparison, so I wanted the happy ending… if I ever finished playing the field.
I reached for my water glass to coat my dry throat. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I could have gone to a sperm bank—”
I sputtered, choking on my water. “What the fuck—”
“But I didn’t like the idea of some nameless, faceless donor fathering my baby.”
“I don’t believe this shit.” I felt as though I’d stepped into a nightmare there was no waking up from. “You sure that bullet didn’t graze your head? ‘Cause you’re making no sense.”
She leveled me with a look that would have crippled a lesser man. “It makes perfect sense. I have financial stability now. My business is doing well. It kind of feels like now or never. And maybe I don’t wanna be alone forever, ya know?”
What the hell had happened to the girl who wouldn’t let anyone get too close? She was suddenly… lonely? Damn. That made my chest ache. I’d always had my brothers and plenty of friends, but Shani had always been a loner. She never let anyone breach that wall she’d erected around herself. I always knew that meant she was missing out on life, but I couldn’t get through to her. At least not then. But maybe now.
“And you think a baby will fill a void in your life somehow?”
“I didn’t say there’s a void,” she snapped. “I’m fine. My life is fine. I just… I don’t know, maybe I want more. Is that a crime?”
“So let me get this straight. You want a baby, but not a husband?”
“Ugh! Why would I want a husband? You forget what I do for a living. I’ve heard countless stories from women who thought their men would never cheat. They’re left broken, scared, and alone. Just like my mother was.” Her voice had become so soft I could barely hear her, and that wasn’t like Shani. There was nothing soft about her, except her curves.
“Not all men cheat, you know.”
“No, there are guys like you, who refuse to commit so you won’t have to cheat.”
“That’s not fair.” I
polished off my appetizer while she did the same, though I suspected neither of us were hungry. “I was faithful to you.”
She chuckled. “Because you knew I would have castrated you if you messed around on me.”
I loved that she was so possessive of me, even though she was the one who’d claimed monogamy wasn’t in her genes. “Never had the urge to mess around on you, baby. You were more than enough woman for me.”
The waiter returned to collect our plates and freshen our drinks while her phone buzzed. She took a quick look at it before slipping it back in her purse.
“Problem?” I asked.
“One of my girls is doing surveillance tonight,” she explained. “Just wanted to give me an update.”
“One of your girls?” I asked, bringing the glass to my lips.
“Yeah.” Her smile was fleeting, but it felt like the sun breaking through the clouds on a dreary day. So fucking beautiful. “Didn’t I mention that I only employ badass females?” She smirked at my look of surprise. “Most are former cops, like me, who got out for whatever reason. I choose carefully and train for keeps. The six of us have become like a family.”
I loved that she had people she trusted in her life now. Aside from me, the only person she’d trusted before had been her partner on the force. Who was a good-looking single guy just about her age. I’d hated his guts and he’d hated mine.
“Good for you.”
“Enough small talk, West.” She leaned in, her tits resting on the table. “What do you say? You wanna help me get pregnant?”
Chapter Two
Shani
I was pretty sure I had just voiced the scariest question in the English language—outside of a marriage proposal, maybe. The risk of rejection was huge. And I didn’t deal well with rejection. That’s why I never put myself out there. I knew if I ever fell hard, there’d be no soft landing.
In Too Deep (The Exes #8) Page 1