by Liz Matis
“You’re ballsy. Nothing seems to affect you.”
That last part wasn’t true. Some days it seemed liked everything hit me square in the chest, but in my family and with most cops that I knew, we tamped down messy feelings until they were buried six feet under. Buck up and suck it up.
“And then there’s the way you handle your gun… and mine.”
My heart flipped at his sexy grin and mischievous gaze. Or maybe it was the Chinese food causing indigestion, and I was one burp away from being cured. My belching abilities went a long way with my coworkers, but I wasn’t about to do it in front of Dean. The snort laugh that was my MO was bad enough. “You like the way I handle your gun, uh?”
“Oh yeah. So why aren’t you a cop?”
Bitter emotions roiled inside me at the unfairness of it all. “After I graduated with a degree in criminal justice, I took the NYPD exam.”
“You failed it.”
“Noooo.” I poked him in the ribs with a chopstick. “I aced it, and I aced the physical fitness test too. Well, not aced, but I performed better than eighty percent of the males.” How I loved to throw that statistic around.
“I’m impressed, but not surprised.”
“Ha! You just assumed I’d failed.”
“I know you’re physically fit, obviously from the sex marathon we just ran, but I have to question the intelligence of someone who chooses your line of work.”
“It chose me after I failed the medical exam. I failed the colorblind test. Apparently, I can’t distinguish between certain colors. One of the instructors passed my name along to Ian, who’s always on the lookout for recruits.
“But you’d still rather be a cop?”
I shrugged, even though yes, I’d give anything to be a cop. “Hey, at least I still get to carry a gun,” I joked.
Dean wasn’t fooled. He gently took my hand, rubbing his thumb along my palm. “You would have made a great cop.”
His light touch, his caring gaze, and the low tone of his voice conveyed the sincerity of his words. In Billings’ office he’d come across as an arrogant jerk, but underneath all the hype, Dean was actually a kind person. No, it was more than that. He was a loving person. Loving. Love. I bit my lip, but held his gaze unable to look away, mesmerized and drunk on his whiskey-brown eyes.
A moment passed between us. It scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Apparently it scared Dean too.
He released my hand and leaned forward to pick up the chopsticks. “You know you can arrest me anytime. Just bring the handcuffs.”
“One day you’ll regret that.” I took another bite of lo mein, relieved that we were back to kidding around. If only my heart would return to its normal beat. And that had absolutely nothing to do with the Chinese food.
Chapter 11
Alexa
Two weeks later, and Dean still hadn’t tried to get me fired. My skills in the bedroom seemed to trump his concerns for my safety.
Or more likely, it was because the day after our sex marathon, we learned the residue on the flowers had tested positive for harmless baby powder. As far as Dean knew, I wasn’t in danger.
What Dean didn’t know was that the Kings’ front office had received another threatening letter. I hoped to be long gone before he found out that Billings and his agent had decided to keep him out of the loop. While their reasoning had more to do with keeping the star quarterback’s head in the game, mine had to do with staying on the job. I felt guilty, but I was Dean’s best hope of staying alive. Besides, I wasn’t ready to give up my role as pretend girlfriend, and if Dean realized the seriousness of the threat, I’d be his pretend ex-girlfriend.
Unlike some other security agencies that only reacted, Ian’s Security was a diligently proactive firm. I took different routes to practice, left at different times, scrutinized his schedule, and the security team was sent ahead to recon anywhere Dean traveled.
During the season Dean ran an after-school program on Mondays at the Uniondale Middle School. The past couple of Mondays though, he’d been forced to cancel since it would be impossible to secure the site. Dean refused to disappoint the kids again, so he twisted Billings’ arm, and the owner agreed to change the venue to the Kings’ practice facility and even provided the bus to drive over the kids after school.
Dean and I were waiting on the short field inside the facility, which also housed an impressive weight room, a theater to watch game film, hot tubs, and other state-of-the-art training equipment.
Impressive as that all was, only memories of the horrors of middle school flooded my mind. I nervously bounced from toe to toe on the artificial turf. Joffrey had sent over some fashionable fitness wear. At first I scoffed at the clothes. Normally I worked out in a pair of baggy sweats and a raggedy t-shirt. No more. I was a convert. The body-hugging outfit with color blocks of black and white made me feel fierce despite my trepidation at facing a bunch of preteens. I got this.
“Why is it called Get Off the Couch?” I asked. For a moment it looked like he wasn’t going to answer.
“I was a chubby kid. I played video games, and my best friends were a supersized soda and a bag of chips,” he confessed.
I couldn’t picture the ideal male specimen standing beside me ever having an ounce of fat on him or that a man who had tons of fans, at one time had no friends. In that last way we were more alike than I’d thought, except that at least I’d had Joffrey. “When did you decide to get off the couch?”
“I was thirteen.”
“For a girl?”
Dean laughed. “Of course. Teenage boys will never change.”
“Grown-up ones too.”
“That’s because we never grow up, baby doll.” He tugged on my ponytail. “See? I’ve been itching to do that since this morning.”
My face heated like a schoolgirl, but the desire coursing through my body was that of a woman. I wasn’t even mad that he called me baby doll. In fact, I was growing to like the endearment. It was all the more reason to catch the psycho after him.
Without warning, about fifty boys and girls burst onto the field, whooping and screaming like they’d won the lottery. They gathered around us, trying to get Dean’s attention all at the same time.
Dean blew the whistle. “Okay, guys.” When they quieted, he said, “Alexa here will be joining us today.”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Gee, such enthusiasm about admitting that. I chalked it up to Dean not wanting to lie to his students.
“Is she why we haven’t seen you?” asked a boy with a scowl.
Great, they hated me.
“Not at all,” Dean said.
“Are you going to get married?” asked one of the preteen girls.
“Wow.” He scratched his head. “Well, uh…”
“He should be so lucky,” I said, saving him from further questioning.
A few of his teammates eagerly joined us for tag football, and they all broke out into teams. I was declared the referee. There was one girl who didn’t join in. I waved her over, but she sat rooted to her spot on the sideline.
Her classmates, though, were having a great time, yelling, tumbling, and laughing. They all adored Dean. Somehow he made them all feel special. Here on the field, Dean’s surface persona of a rich, spoiled athlete changed and became something deeper. He cared about something other than himself. He’d tried to hide it earlier, but I suspected Dean had been taunted for being overweight.
As I grew to know the real Dean, my puzzlement about why someone would want to kill him had grown. It had to be a spurned lover. With my own feelings running amok, I could see how a female could become unhinged over losing him. But all of the exes had checked out.
I blew the whistle, calling a penalty on Dean for unsportsmanlike conduct after he goosed his teammate Jacobs, who in this game was playing against him.
“What? But I’m your boyfriend!” he joked.
“Call ’em like I see ’em.”
“Though she be but little, she is fierce.”
“That you are. And smoking fine. I think all the boys have a crush on you.”
About fifteen years too late. Not that I believed it.
I nodded toward the girl on the bench. “Why isn’t she playing?”
“That’s Tammy. My charms don’t work on her. Believe me I’ve tried.”
“I’ll go over and see what’s up.”
“Good luck with that.”
Even sitting, I could tell Tammy was as tall as I was short. She had spiky, short blonde hair and a pair of stunning sky-blue eyes underneath enough goth makeup to make Joffrey breakout in hives. Where I’d tried to go unnoticed in school, she had decided to standout.
“Hi, Tammy.”
Silence. Did I forget to the mention the invisible fuck off sign on her forehead?
What was I thinking? If Mr. Personality couldn’t sway a preteen girl, how was a girl who sat on the sidelines the first twenty years of her life going to do any better? “Why aren’t you having fun with the rest of us?”
“This is sooooo lame.”
Oh, the attitude! But I recognized the defense mechanism all too well. “Then why are you here?”
“My mom made me.”
I sat next to her. “You remind me of myself when I was your age.”
“But you’re pretty and girly.”
Pretty? Oh, the makeover, I thought. But I wasn’t dressed to impress and wore the bare minimum of makeup. “Thank you, but no more than you are.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh yeah, that’s why you’re going out with Dean Walker and all the boys pick on me.”
My gut twisted with outrage, and my hands fisted in fury. I suddenly wanted to be thirteen again and have her point out every single boy who bothered her and pummel him to the ground. I drew in a deep breath to calm myself. My lingering anger would serve no purpose.
“I was bullied too, so was my best friend.”
“No way. What did you do?”
Hmm… This was dicey territory. I wasn’t qualified to give advice to a student. “Have you told a teacher?”
“It only got worse when someone else took over.”
Should I tell her to stick up for herself? But what if she got hurt or got into trouble or turned violent?
It took several fights before my own tormentors decided I wasn’t worth a broken nose. I almost smiled at the memory of sending Derek to the emergency room.
“Do you want me to say something? To the principal?”
Tammy vehemently shook her head no, but the blonde spikes remained structurally intact.
I patted her hand. “It gets better.” Now that was lame.
Should I tell her that the pain of rejection might dull, but it remained a part of your psyche forever? That the doubt you thought buried six feet under could rise from the dead, making you question everything. That until less than a month ago, I was still that awkward girl on the outside?
Would this Alexa go back to being Reeves after the assignment was over? Could I?
“In the meantime,” I said as I stood, “let me show you a few self-defense moves.”
This time she answered with a wary nod.
On the sidelines I taught her to block punches, to deliver a kick to the shins, then up higher. Even that didn’t produce a giggle out of her. Once she nailed those, I showed her, God forgive me, the eye gouge.
She was a quick and eager student. Twenty minutes later, Dean jogged over. “That’s awesome,” he said as he high-fived Tammy.
An ear-to-ear grin splashed across her face. I detected a blush as well. I couldn’t blame her. I was pretty sure I had the same look on my face.
“Maybe next time you’ll play?” Dean asked.
“Will you be here again, Alexa?” Her hopeful eyes tugged on my heartstrings.
“I guarantee it,” Dean said.
I cringed at his promise. If I caught the stalker before next week, I’d be moving on to my next assignment. I could take an overdue vacation, but that would only delay the inevitable. It wasn’t like Dean had confessed his undying love for me.
Outside of the bedroom, we kept things light and chill. Behind closed doors… or on the dining room table… or in the shower… or up against that closed door, we were heavy and hot with no promises spoken. And here he was offering a guarantee that I’d be around next week, when the only guarantee I could offer was that I’d never forget him.
Chapter 12
Dean
I was a genius. Alexa had reached Tammy when I couldn’t, and I’d used that to put Alexa on the spot to ensure her continued participation in my after-school program. Now I had an excuse to see her when her job with me was over.
To think I originally wanted her off my detail, and now the only thing I wanted was more time to figure out how I felt about her. About us. Whoa, take one giant leap away from that thought.
So much safer to focus on how hot she looked in those body-hugging leggings. I could barely keep my concentration on the kids’ game. My teammates had the same problem, which is why I goosed Jacobs after he eyeballed Alexa’s ass longer than was respectful. She had no idea of her effect on men. On me. To add insult to injury, my little referee threw a flag on the play.
I ended the session with a stretching routine and then high-fived the kids as they left. Tammy was the last one in line. “Thank you, Mr. Walker.”
“You’re welcome, and it’s Dean.” Not for the first time, I wondered how Tammy’s spiked hair stayed upright.
Before she left, she ran back to hug Alexa, who went wide-eyed with shock, but then returned the hug. “See you next week,” Tammy said. She waved goodbye and followed her classmates.
Alexa turned toward me. “You shouldn’t have promised I’d be here.”
Crap, I didn’t think she’d call me on that. I shrugged. “It’s not like you’re any closer to catching my supposed stalker.” I flicked the football over to her.
“Touché.” She caught it and tossed it back and forth between her hands. “Have you thought about adding in an anti-bullying program?”
“Why?”
“Because you need one. Tammy is being picked on.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “They all seem like such nice kids.” One of them had me completely fooled. “Who?”
“Tammy wouldn’t say, which is probably a good thing. I’m sure the last thing you need is your hired gun giving one of those kids a wedgie and a black eye.
That Alexa had to fight off bullies as a child gnawed at my gut. That her insides were still obviously damaged left me at a loss of how to comfort her. To make it better. Honoring her request was the only way I knew to ease her mind. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll look into it. Maybe even get some of the guys to help.”
“Great, thanks!”
Her smile did things to my heart. Sometimes it was a flip-flop, other times a blow, or a simple skipped beat. Alexa was a pretty woman, but her real beauty glowed from the inside out.
Now I knew what her friend Joffrey meant about having Alexa as a protector. A fierce defender of the bullied and now mama bear to one of my after-school kids, she’d make a great mom. She said she wanted children—eventually. Somewhere deep inside I wanted that eventually to be with me. As long as that terrifying thought stayed buried, I’d be safe.
“What are you thinking?” she asked with an expression like I’d grown two heads.
Since I couldn’t exactly admit to where my thoughts had led me, I said, “The self-defense moves you taught Tammy. Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Yeah, knit you a sweater.” She laughed and snorted.
The sound of it should have been a turnoff, but coming from her it was fucking adorable. I loved the way she scrunched up her tiny nose and the way her cheeks blushed when she realiz
ed the sound came from her. And I loved how she laughed at her own jokes. Loved even more when she laughed at mine.
“I said that to you weeks ago.” I was surprised she remembered. That day in Billings’s office seemed like a distant memory, so did the woman I’d met that day. Alexa was either a really good actress or she’d morphed into a one hell of a sexy woman right before my eyes.
“Oh, Dean, you should know that women never forget anything.”
I did know, but increasingly I was beginning to forget things around Alexa. Mainly, that she really wasn’t my girlfriend. Not officially anyway. Even before the nights of wild sex, it had been easy to slip into the role of boyfriend. And now it was all too real.
It wasn’t like Alexa had asked for any promises. But she didn’t seem the type to apply pressure for a commitment. Somehow I’d turned into the female in this relationship. Wondering where I stood, kids, promises of the future. And complaining when she left the bed at night to take vigil on the couch, when all I wanted to do was sleep with my arms wrapped around her. Letting her take the lead in the bedroom. Not that I minded. At. All. Alexa was sexy when she was bossy, but I was turning into a wuss and getting lazy. It was time to take the control back.
*
After checking the apartment, Alexa stripped off her shirt in the living room. “I’m hitting the showers.”
I followed her, but when she made the move for the guest bathroom, I steered her toward my bedroom.
“Dean, I’m all sweaty.”
“Not what I had in mind, baby doll.” I bypassed the bed for the bathroom. “Yet.”
“What are we doing then?”
Reaching into the large tiled shower, I turned on the water. “Doing my part to save the earth.” I tugged my shirt over my head.
“You have two showerheads and like eight water jets,” she volleyed back, but she shed the rest of her clothes just as fast as I did.
“That’s because I’m a very dirty boy.”
“Then let’s get you cleaned up.” Alexa smacked my ass as I entered the shower ahead of her. She took a tentative step in. “It’s too cold.”