Falling for the New Guy

by Nicole Helm

  His hand grasping her wrist and tugging it away from his mouth was enough of a surprise. Then his mouth was on hers and, oh, hell, who cared? They were done talking.

  His arms banded around her, holding her close, nearly immobile. Desire and frustration simmering in the way his mouth crushed to hers. Which was somehow so freaking hot, that combo.

  He pulled back, but only about an inch, and his arms around her didn’t loosen, the warm coil of desire not cooling a degree. “Are you busy right now?” he asked.

  She blinked up at him, trying to make sense of words that weren’t take off your clothes right now. “N-no. Not busy.”

  “Did you want to discuss the details of this arrangement first?”

  “Oh, God, no.”

  “Good.” His mouth crushed to hers again and she was being propelled back to the couch and she shouldn’t be this giddy and excited over something that could be such a giant mistake.

  But she was, and hell, might as well enjoy it.

  * * *

  BUYING THOSE CONDOMS had come in really handy. He was pretty sure he’d never had floor sex before. Which was a shame. There was a lot to be said for floor sex.

  There was a lot to be said for Tess. Period.

  And a lot to be said for how damn complicated this was, but Tess was curled up against him, head on his shoulder, and the thing she wanted— something for her—echoed something he wanted. She deserved it way more than he did, probably, but it didn’t change the fact he understood what it was like to ignore or push away your own wants for the sake of someone else.

  That he wanted something for himself. Wanted to live for himself. Now was as good a time as any.

  Except it’s secret. And you’re still coming in second.

  Well, so be it. Let it be the biggest secret he’d ever kept. It being secret—just theirs—made it even better. More theirs. Untouchable by anything else.

  And if she refused his help sometimes, well, he could deal with it. He was good at dealing with that kind of thing.

  At least she appreciated the offer.

  “This rug is uncomfortable,” Tess murmured into his neck before pressing a kiss to his jaw and getting to her feet. She scratched a hand through her unruly hair as she looked around the room, presumably for her clothes, which were quite impressively strewn about, if he did say so himself.

  Even more impressive, the sight of Tess, naked, standing above him. Very impressive. Perfect, really.

  She grinned down at him, nudged his leg with her foot. “I like you smug.”

  “I didn’t know that was an admirable trait.” He clasped his hand around her ankle, moving his thumb over the curve of bone.

  “It looks good on you on occasion.” She bent over and picked up her panties, stepping her free foot into one opening and then trying to pull her ankle from his grasp.

  Because she was here, not tossing him out or scurrying away, because this was so much better than being alone, than just about anything right now, he released her leg but got to his knees.

  “As much as I hate to see you cover up, let me help.” He slowly edged the hem of the underwear up her legs, gliding across the smooth skin of her calves, thighs, hips, until they were all the way up. He pressed a kiss to one hip bone, then the other, desire stirring yet again.

  Her hand smoothed over the top of his head, and she gazed down at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Wow, ready for round two?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, to keep the easy, fun banter going, but his phone rang.

  Tess cocked her head. “Caller ID says Mom.”

  “I’ll call her back later.” He got to his feet, reached over to the end table where his phone was and clicked the ringer off.

  “You can take it. Or call her back right now, if you want.”

  “Tess, you really want me to talk to my mother with the start of a hard-on while you’re standing there almost completely naked?”

  Her lips quirked a little, but she looked back at the phone, an odd pained look on her face. “Is she terrible?”

  “Nope, she’s great.”

  Her eyes finally returned to his face. “You don’t seem convinced.”

  “I don’t?” He handed her her bra, because if she really wanted to talk about his mother, he was not going to do it while she was naked.

  She slipped it over her arms and he rooted around for his boxers and pants, purposefully not meeting her gaze.

  “No. You say it like it’s something you’re supposed to feel, not something you actually mean.”

  “But I do mean it. She’s great. Dad’s great. Love them both.”

  “Yeah, still not very convincing.”

  He pulled his shirt over his head, noticing she’d done the same. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Tess. I’m not lying.”

  She was quiet for a few moments, studying him carefully, as if she could see through it all, which was silly. The whole thing was silly. Her thinking he didn’t mean it. The guilt coating his stomach. The fact that one phone call he hadn’t even taken from his mother had interrupted something that had been pretty damn great.

  Tess touched her fingertips to his cheek. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her, but she only smiled. A smile that could do a hell of a lot of damage to the male population, he was convinced. Or maybe just a whole lot of damage to him.

  “One thing. You know everything about me.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  She rolled her eyes. “All the big stuff. Tell me something big.”

  “Well, I’m invincible, being a superhero and all.”

  She poked him in the chest. “There’s that sense of humor, but it won’t deflect me, sir. I am trained in the art of interrogation.”

  “And I am trained in the art of not giving anything away.”

  Her eyebrows drew together and she smoothed the finger digging into his chest to press her palm to his heart. “One thing. Please?”

  He supposed he could give her something. Why he had become a police officer. What it was like growing up with a gravely ill sibling, and all the weird stuff that remained because of that. But it seemed so lame in comparison to what she’d been through, and if this whole...arrangement was for her, something just for her, maybe he could be what she needed and not worry about himself. He was good at that.

  He at least deserved to keep some piece of himself hidden away, some piece of himself that wouldn’t be hurt when this didn’t work out.

  “You know last night when you kissed me and then left?”

  “I do recall.”

  “I came back here and jerked off in the shower.”

  She pouted, but it curved at the ends. “That’s not very big.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed. “Awful. Dirty, dirty.” Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Love it, you secret perv.”

  He allowed himself to wrap his arms around her waist, enjoy the feel of her pressed up against him. He even allowed a little sliver of seriousness to intrude. “I’m very boring. I have led a very uninteresting, safe, pleasant life.”

  She pulled back just enough so their eyes could meet. “You don’t seem pleased by your uninteresting, safe, pleasant life.”

  She wasn’t going to give up, and maybe he wasn’t willing to give her something big—not when hers was all so much bigger, not when sharing everything would be...too much—but maybe he could find some sliver to give her.

  “You know, I find myself doing a lot for other people, pushing what I want to the background. I don’t have nearly as good a reason for it as you do. But I understand wanting something for yourself.”

  Her lips curved, and it struck him
how pretty she was, the heavy top lip, the slight dusting of freckles on her nose and those eyes. She was gorgeous, inside and out. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

  She visibly swallowed. “You know, if you weren’t so good at that serious face, I’d tell you that was one cheesy line.”

  “I mean it, though.”

  “I know you do.” She brushed her mouth across his. “You want to make it to bed this time? I have some creative ideas for pillows before I turn into a pumpkin and have to get back to my place.”

  “You could stay.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Um, actually, I think it’s best if we’re sort of careful about the time we leave each other’s apartments. No late nights. No early mornings. Never at the same time.”

  He wouldn’t let that hurt because she’d been up-front from the beginning. She couldn’t let this thing between them threaten her career. She wouldn’t let him help with her father. He wouldn’t let it hurt, because he understood how important a job could be. How family obligations could tangle up your life.

  So he smiled and gestured toward his bedroom. “Lead the way.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WORK WAS WEIRD. There was no getting around it. Tess was hyperaware of every movement of her body, how it might be construed, as if anyone could see right through her. Even after a week of lots of sex with Marc but no sleepovers, and acting like nothing but coworkers at the station, she couldn’t get comfortable.

  She wished his two weeks of riding shotgun weren’t over. If she was behind the wheel she could focus on driving, focus on anything other than did I just stare at his butt? Did someone notice me staring at his butt? But since her job for the next two-ish months was observing him, she couldn’t stop second-guessing every look, every order, every compliment.

  This whole arrangement they had was turning out to be a pain in the butt, until she remembered all the sex.

  Good sex. Also, Marc cooked for her. He’d watched the first few episodes of Friends with her even though for some terrible reason he didn’t find it funny. But he tried. Good food. Good company. Great sex. It was kind of worth eight hours of torture four to six days a week. Eight hours of them responding to calls together, in his car, with him behind the wheel, being his unchatty, überhot self.

  Luckily, Dad had been calling all morning after an almost weeklong silence, which at least took her attention off Marc every once in a while. She could instead feel miserable over the way they’d left things, over her determination not to go over there or talk to him for a while.

  So when the phone vibrated in her pocket, she ignored it. Marc hadn’t said anything, but she knew the insistent buzzing that had caused her to turn off the ringer completely wasn’t fooling him.

  But he didn’t say anything. He had to have some kind of dark, horrifying secret past, because the guy was too damn good at giving her what she wanted. How was she supposed to combat that? Not make it obvious at work that she was falling for him? Not be desperate to spend the night with him instead of trudging back to her place or sending him on his way to his?

  But it was her life. So she was taking what she wanted. He was too good to be true, so she was taking him. Even while she waited for the other shoe to drop. For some nasty past to come to the forefront.

  Was it realism or paranoia that kept her looking for something bad? Something off? Even as she spent as much time with him as she could logically excuse. Even when he made her laugh.

  Perfect did not exist, but aside from not liking small talk and not keeping a supply of gummy anything, the guy was damn near perfect. She was almost kind of desperate to find a flaw. Just to believe he was real and not, say, some serial killer.

  She really needed to get it together. “We should probably head back to the station for roll call.”

  Marc nodded wordlessly, changing course. God, this was painful. But in the most incomprehensible way, it was kind of...exciting pain. All this awkward silence and overcautiousness with each other would melt away as soon as they got home. It would be shed as quickly as their clothes and, yes, it was weird and warped, but totally worth it.

  At least during roll call they could sit separately, although Tess would rather sit next to Marc and pretend that he was repulsive than listen to Granger whisper-complain about some bitch who rejected him last night while Captain talked about a situation down on the docks that the night shift needed to be looking into.

  Tess managed to focus on that, mentally noting some stuff to discuss with one of the night shift guys tomorrow morning. Police work. She was a policewoman and she could and would think about things other than a hot guy taking care of her every yummy need.

  Shh, brain.

  Evening shift guys dispersed to get in their cars, some of the day shifters took their time to start heading out, but Tess and Marc waited them out until they were the only two in the room.

  “Ready?” He didn’t smile, but that serious cop face was relaxed somewhat, anticipation sparking in his eyes.

  He was much better at the not-smiling thing, because she couldn’t help herself. She grinned up at him, with only the sights and smells of a job that was everything to her as a reminder she had to keep her hands in her pockets.

  “Camden?” Franks’s voice barked.

  Tess jumped, which she knew only made her look guilty. Which she kind of was, but not... Get it together. “Captain?”

  “Who did this report?” He held up some papers. “Two nights ago. Attempted robbery over on Shirley Lane.”

  “Um, well, Santino did, sir.” She hated to throw Marc under the bus, but he had done the report. “I read over it, of course, before we sent it into the system, but—”

  “Relax, Camden. First report I haven’t had to send back in ages, aside from yours. Good job, Santino. And, Tess, you’re definitely proving yourself as the best damn FTO I’ve ever had here.”

  “Th-thank you.”

  Franks nodded then left, and Tess wanted to sink into a chair. She wanted to disappear. Turn back time. Because, shit, shit, shit, she was risking Franks’s good opinion of her for...

  She glanced at Marc and he smiled ruefully.

  “Bit of a scare, huh?”

  Tess nodded. The scare hadn’t even completely worn off, and yet...against everything she would have ever expected herself to do, she reached out and squeezed his hand. Quickly. “Worth it,” she said on little more than a whisper. Because it was worth the scare, and the tiptoeing and the fear they’d get found out.

  Because this was for her, and something just for her felt too good not to be worth it. Marc felt too good not to be worth it.

  He blinked once, the surprise in his features so palpable she wondered if anyone had ever seen what she saw when she looked at him. Someone completely, utterly worth it.

  Watch it.

  She needed to. Calm it down. Back off. Keep her eye on what was important. But...but...

  She didn’t want to.

  * * *

  WHEN MARC AND Tess arrived at their building, they did what they’d been doing the past few workday afternoons. She made a big production of saying goodbye at the patrol car, dawdled around a bit while he entered his apartment. He left the door unlocked, which went against every ounce of safety he believed in.

  But about thirty minutes after, she’d slip into his apartment, having changed into plainclothes, and always start with the same greeting.

  “I’m starving.”

  And the unlocked door for thirty minutes was worth it. How they’d created a routine in such a short period of time, a routine he hated to break, was beyond him. Everything to do with her was beyond him.

  He was freakishly enjoying this. So having to interrupt the routine blew. Hard. “I, uh, have to have dinner with my family tonight.” He’d been meaning
to tell her that all week, but it kept...not being said. Possibly because he was dreading the visit, so he really didn’t want to talk about it. Or have her ask more questions about his family. Have her want to know anything.

  Things were good. He didn’t need her to find out about his lame issues and think less of him. She thought he was worth it. Worth risking something she’d once said was everything to her.

  He was important to someone, and he was going to make sure he kept that up. Give her everything she wanted, make her believe he was that guy without any flaws.

  “In Minnesota?”

  “No.”

  She poked his shoulder. “Joking.” Then she frowned at the bowl he’d put together for her. “But that’s food.”

  “I made it for you.”

  She looked at him in wonder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You eat crap, and it’s just leftovers from last night.”

  She shook her head, pulling the bowl toward her. “And you think I’m a mother hen.” She took a bite, moaned in a way that was not fair when he had to leave soon to make it to Leah’s for dinner with his parents.

  “You can eat here if you want.” Wait for me. But he didn’t say that, because it wouldn’t be fair to ask.

  “If things were different...” She got that soft look that had become the expression he associated with time to go.

  He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, because she always smiled when he did, because these nights seemed to be the only time she didn’t have her hair pulled back and he liked the feel of it between his fingers.

  “That if-things-were-different list is getting long, isn’t it?” she asked, putting the bowl down and stepping so they were close enough for her to lean against him.

  “Yes, and quickly.”

  Tess sighed. “I just don’t know...”

  “I know.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “I envy how you always say that with absolute certainty.”

  “I don’t—”

  Her phone buzzed. He knew she’d turned it off this morning, but apparently she’d turned it back on. And, based on her pinched face and wince, he could guess who it was.