Wow. The man could eat. “Seriously? You want dessert after that meal?”
And a walk on the lakefront. If the man had a Lucie textbook, he couldn’t have aced this test any better. When she lived downtown, she’d drag Frankie out to the lakefront for picnics and walks. She had loved the anonymity of it, the being able to walk outside without nosey people staring at them or pointing as often happened in Franklin.
“One thing about me, Lucie. My appetite doesn’t quit. Total warrior. And if it means keeping you a while longer, I’m bucking up.”
She looked up at him, a big-butt smile on her face because the cute guy liked her. High school much? She tugged on his shirt. “I’d like that. I’ll skip dessert, but coffee would be fine.”
The light changed and Tim stepped off the curb, hesitating a moment until Lucie did the same, and once again, he set his hand on her back, just a light touch. Not possessive. More protective. She sensed that in him. That protective nature. She liked it. Liked the way his big hand—so new and different—felt on her body. Everything about Tim was different from Frankie. His height, his big shoulders, his fair skin. His attitude toward people nosing around in his life.
They walked the two blocks to the lakefront and Lucie focused on enjoying every breath. That amazing feeling of clean, moist air moving through her lungs. If she were blindfolded, she’d know the second she got within half a mile of the lake. The moisture gave it away and her body responded, took refuge in it. Being here, despite the city noise and traffic, relaxed her.
“Lucie?”
“Yes?”
He dropped his arm over her shoulder, gave a little squeeze. “This is fun.”
“Yes it is.”
“I’d like to do this again.”
“Why do I think there’s a but?”
Tim stopped and gently pulled her to the side of the lake path next to a bench. “It’s not a but so much. More of a question.”
A biker hollered out to the folks walking and Tim nudged Lucie farther off the path.
“Fire away, Detective.”
“You and Frank Falcone. I know you have a history.”
“That we do.”
“A lot of splitting up and reconciling. From what I’ve heard.”
“Your sources are good.”
“Yeah, they are.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets as if he needed somewhere to put them. On me. Her hormones were a naughty bunch tonight. Particularly since the current topic was her relationship with Frankie. Something she didn’t want to think about. Tonight she was plain old Lucie—not Lucie Rizzo, mob princess—out on a date with a nice guy.
“Which leads to my question.”
“Okay.”
“This current breakup with Frankie. Is it permanent? Because I’m not a guy who wants to get in the middle of something. It’s not my style.”
All she could do was be honest. Each time she and Frankie had broken up, there’d been a feeling that it wouldn’t last. They were magnets in the same force field. This time, she honestly wasn’t sure.
She reached out and touched his arm because it felt right and easy and she wanted the connection.
“Tim, all I can do is tell you what I know right now. Frankie and I have been apart three months. There’s something different this time. Something I can’t figure out. I do know I really like spending time with you. It feels new and fun and… freeing. And I like that.”
He smiled at her, that lightning-quick one that sent her hormones all a-flutter. “Good enough.” He turned, slid his hands from his pockets, threw his arm over her shoulder again and started walking. “Lucie Rizzo, let’s see where this goes. I have a feeling it’s going to be a great ride.”
*
Lucie strolled up the walkway toward her parents’ front door with Tim just behind her. As she walked, she tilted her head up to enjoy the kaleidoscope of stars on a perfect summer evening. She breathed in, let it out slowly, and tried to forget her mother was sleeping upstairs. Living with one’s parents might be the best birth control going. Not that she’d sleep with him. Hunky as he was, she wasn’t ready for that. Not a chance. She’d slept with three men in her lifetime and Frankie had been the only one in four years. Casual sex may have worked for some, but she couldn’t do it. She needed the emotional attachment and commitment that came with making love.
The hormones would have to deal.
When she reached the stoop, the porch light flicked on. Ah, the joy of motion sensors. Couldn’t get away with a thing. And if it weren’t nearly midnight, Lucie knew the neighbors would have their noses pressed up against the glass to see why the light flipped on. Everyone in this town was fascinated with the Rizzo family.
She reached the top step and turned. Tim was still two steps lower and she was nearly eye-to-eye with him. Tall man. Big man.
Oh.
Boy.
“I had fun tonight. Thank you.”
He nodded. “Me too. I’ll call you this weekend. Maybe we can get together on Sunday for a while? If it’s nice, we can go to the beach.”
With his fair skin, he wanted to go to the beach? “I love the beach.” She twisted her lips. “We’ll need five gallons of sunscreen for you.”
“Six,” he corrected.
And, oh my, how she loved a man who could poke fun at himself. She shook her head. “I’ll say this for you, Tim O’Brien, you know how to make a girl swoon.”
Under the glare of the porch light, Lucie’s gaze moved to Tim’s mouth and that perfect lower lip. His mouth had a fullness to it. So sexy.
After a second, those lips slid into a knowing grin and heat stormed Lucie’s cheeks for what had to be the millionth time tonight.
Her thoughts were just plain wicked!
“I do my best,” he said, still grinning.
And then, finally, he did it, what she’d been waiting all night for, he moved closer. She knew what this was. Yes. Bring me those lips, baby! She wanted those lips.
“Hey.”
Gah! Lucie jumped backward, her arms flying as she almost fell flat on her butt on the stoop. Tim grabbed hold before she went over.
Here she was about to lip-lock with the hunky detective and up walks Joey Big Ears.
“Hi,” Lucie chirped, guilt flying off her like spurting blood.
Tim grinned, clearly amused that they’d been busted. But, ace that he was, he turned, waited for Joey to step closer, and held out his hand. “Tim O’Brien.”
Joey slid a hard glare at Lucie then went back to Tim, grudgingly shaking his hand. “Joey Rizzo.”
The two had quasi met a few months back when O’Brien had been investigating Lucie’s dognappings. She didn’t recall any words actually being exchanged, but there’d been a load of posturing on her brother’s part. All she remembered was Joey doing the silent don’t-screw-with-us routine. Total charmer, her brother.
But hey, at least this time he’d shaken Tim’s hand and actually said something. Progress. Even if it was only two words.
“Where were you?” Lucie asked.
“I… uh… out.”
Yoi. Probably making collections at the bar. Something he couldn’t readily admit in front of law enforcement. “Okay, then. Great.” Lucie jerked her head. “You can go on inside now. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Good to meet you,” Tim said.
“Right. You too.”
Excellent progress!
Joey moved past them and let the screen door smack behind him—a sure sign of rebellion over the fact that Lucie had been out with the enemy.
But Tim was unfazed. He stood, broad shoulders comfortably back, with a big ole grin on his face.
“Nice guy,” he said. “I think we’ll get along well.”
Lucie snorted. Down deep, her love for Joey had grown over these last few months. As annoying as he could be, he’d been there for her. Helping her with the dogs, lugging supplies, and yes, saddling up to get his baby sister out of trouble.
“He�
�s a good guy,” Lucie said. “Protective of the women in his family. He’d be that way with any man.”
Aside from Frankie.
“I’m sure it doesn’t help that I’m a cop.”
“Ya think?”
The only cops, outside of Tim, who had ever set foot on Rizzo property were the federal agents keeping tabs on her father and Joey and the goings on in the Rizzo world. Her brother’s only crime, to Lucie’s knowledge, was running his bookmaking business. From childhood, their father had warned him off life as a mobster, and Joey was too terrified to go against his wishes. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, Lucie didn’t truly believe her brother had the stomach for mob life.
The porch light flashed off then back on again and Lucie rolled her eyes.
“That would be my cue to go inside and kill my brother. Since you’re a detective, you might not want to be here for that.”
“Homicide isn’t my area anyway.”
Ha. Good one. After years of being so serious about every damned thing, Tim O’Brien brought a lightness to her.
“Thank you again,” she said. “You have no idea how much I needed a fun night.”
He leaned forward and the porch light flipped on and off again. Three times. Now she’d had it. She half turned to the door. “Joey! Quit it! Go to bed, you animal.”
Her temper didn’t fire that often, but when it did, look out. And more often than not, Joey was the cause.
“Hokay,” O’Brien said after her outburst. “I’m gonna go.”
She shifted back. “I’m sorry.”
He cracked up and ran his hand down one side of his face. “You guys are a riot.”
Quickly, before the light could flip off, he kissed her. On the cheek.
Dammit, Joey! She wouldn’t have minded a little smooch from the hunky detective.
Right now she had bigger issues.
Leaving Tim standing at the base of the stoop, she slipped through the front door, and feeling a little wistful after a nice evening, offered up a little finger wave before closing it.
Now the war will start.
She wheeled around, found Joey the Snoop—formerly known as Joey Big Ears—standing near the steps. She jabbed her finger at him. “Are you insane? What am I five? Don’t you ever pull that stunt again. How humiliating.”
“He’s a cop!”
“So what?”
That knocked him back a step and his jaw flopped open. “Seriously? What don’t you get about this cluster?”
“Yes. Seriously. He’s a nice guy. We get along. And, hey, I like him.”
“What about Frankie?”
“He dumped me.”
Joey waved both hands. “You’ll get back together.”
Historically speaking, maybe. Now, who knew? “You don’t know that.”
“You’re giving up on Frankie for a cop? Dad will shit himself.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get your fun telling both Dad and Frankie about this. Enjoy it while you can.”
“You think I’m gonna tell them? You’re crazier than I thought. Nuh-uh, baby, that’s on you. I’ll just sit and watch the action.”
She slid her purse off her shoulder and waved it around. “I knew if you saw him you’d be a jerk about this. I should have met him somewhere.”
And how fair was that? Now she couldn’t bring a friend over? This life. Total killer.
“Wait,” Joey said, his eyes shooting crazy wide. “Just hang on one second. You wacky broads cooked up that whole thing with Roseanne earlier, didn’t you?”
“Oh, just stop it.”
Joey gritted his teeth and jerked his head. “I can’t believe it. Witches. I’ll give you props though. When I got there, that lunatic had her foot stuck in a hole in her front yard.”
That’s a good friend. Ro had actually dug a hole and shoved her foot in there.
“I had to dig her out with a garden spade. What an actress! All to get me out of the house. And I find this out now, after…”
He broke off. Gritted his teeth.
“What?”
Not for anything, but Joey was taking this way too hard. All they’d wanted was to get him out of the house. Really not that big of a deal. At least she didn’t think so.
“Nothing,” he said. “It just sucks that you two cooked this up and lied to me.”
Oh, please. Lucie flapped her arms, waved them like the crazy person she might be. “Because I knew this is how you’d behave.”
“Hel-lo.” This from Mom marching down the stairs in her robe, her chestnut hair plastered down on one side. “Do I need to remind you that it’s midnight and I happened to be sleeping? At least until the two of you started screaming.”
“Ma! Your daughter is dating a cop.”
Mom frowned as she hit the bottom step and came eye-to-eye with Joey. “How is that your business?”
Go. Mom.
“Yeah, Joey.” Very mature, Luce. Very mature.
Joey threw his arms up. “Sure. Take her side. You’re both nuts. You know what? I’m goin’ to bed. I’m the only one around here with enough sense to see what a train wreck this is.”
On his way by their mother, despite his comment about her being nuts, he smacked a kiss on her cheek. Total mama’s boy.
“Sorry we woke you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Joseph. Good night.”
Mom waited until Joey slammed his bedroom door and turned back to Lucie. “A police officer? You’re kidding?”
Lucie grinned. “It gets worse.”
“Oh, Lord. Tell me he’s involved in investigating your father.”
“No. He’s Irish.”
“Well, that should make for interesting Sunday dinners.”
*
The following morning, Lucie walked along the sidewalk in front of the Bart Owens Gallery with a dopey smile on her face. For the first time in months she felt… decent. Happy, even. Her cell phone rang. Ro. “Good morning, my soon-to-be Academy Award-winning girlfriend.”
“Hey, girl, I do what I can. Where are you? I’ve got samples to show you for our new headquarters.”
Samples. Oh. Yay. Sometimes, Lucie just wanted Ro to do it. Not involve her. This would be one of those times. How many variations of one color could she look at? “I told Bart I’d walk Oscar for him.”
“It’s Saturday.”
“I know, but Bart is out of town today. It’s not a big deal. I’m doing the morning walk and Lauren’s handling this afternoon. I should be done by nine-thirty. Want to meet at the store?”
“Sounds good. That’ll give me time to get my fabulous on.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
“You know it. How’d it go last night? Did you get lucky?”
“Yes. But not in the way you’re implying. You have a filthy mind, my friend.”
“Oh, come on. I’m divorcing my husband. I’m entitled to a little filth as a distraction. Do tell.”
“What’s to tell? He’s a nice guy. He’s…”
What?
Cute. Sexy. Funny. Said all things that made her think about a panty drop? Check. Check. Check and, oh, yes, check. “He’s different.”
“As in, he’s not Frankie?”
For sure that. “Definitely not Frankie. He makes me feel… comfortable.”
The second the words left her mouth, Lucie winced.
“Bah!” Ro said. “Comfortable. What the hell does that even mean? Listen, honey, I married the comfortable guy, and I just busted him banging a stripper.”
“All I meant was he’s easy to talk to. There’s no judgment. He just listens and then gives his opinion. And it’s kind of nice to have a conversation and not have everything I say be used as a weapon.”
Wow. That was an interesting reveal. But apparently those feelings had been making a run for it because they shot free pretty easily.
“You like him,” Ro said. “Good God, Luce. He’s a cop.”
“I know. I don’t care. I think we’r
e getting together tomorrow.”
Ro sighed. Lucie knew how she felt. A little conflicted and confused. “Well, if it’s what you want, then enjoy it. Just be happy.”
Who knew what she wanted? All she knew was she didn’t want to fight anymore, and for one night, Tim O’Brien gave her that. “We’ll see. It’s early yet. By the way, Joey is not happy with us.”
“Ooohhh-weeee, don’t I know it. He sent me a wicked text last night. That thing should have fried my phone.”
Lucie gasped. “Did he really? I’m so sorry.”
“Please. I told him to get over it because he was only proving your theory that he’d be an idiot about the cop.”
“He must have loved that.”
“He swore at me. Via text.” Ro giggled. Giggled? “He’s straight up nuts, but he makes me laugh.”
Eww. With a divorce imminent, the idea of Ro and Joey… just eww. “Um…”
“What?”
Not my business. “Nothing.”
“Then I’ll meet you at the store around 9:30 and we’ll look at samples.”
“Thanks, Ro. For everything. I love you.”
“Back at ya, babe. Later.”
Stowing her phone, Lucie cut down the alley to the back door leading to the gallery’s office. She unlocked the door and readied herself for the requisite leg humping from Oscar the kink. Imagine if the dog hadn’t been neutered?
Once inside, she spotted the gallery door open—odd, considering Oscar wasn’t allowed in the gallery without Bart present. Where the heck was this dog?
“Oscar?” she called. “Here boy.”
The tippity-tap of nails echoed in the gallery. Oh, darn it. That dog would be toast now. Bart must have forgotten to secure the door.
“Lucie?”
Bart’s voice. She cocked her head. Had she mixed up the date? On the one morning she wouldn’t have minded staying in bed a little longer. Sheesh.
And yep, Bart swung around the stairway and headed straight for her with Oscar the perv scooting around him. Lucie bent at the waist, held her palm out low. “No humping, Oscar.”
The dog came to a stop, gave her a sniff and planted his butt. “Good boy. Stay.”
She pointed at him, made sure he knew she meant business, then straightened up and faced Bart. “Hi. Did I mix up the date? I thought you were gone today.”
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