by Elle Thorpe
Liam didn’t smile. His gaze was fixed on my hand on his leg.
Shit. The gesture was probably too intimate for how little we actually knew each other, and I went to pull it away.
But his hand clamped over mine, fingers threading and holding it to him.
“I like your hand there,” he said quietly. He finally looked up, turning those stormy eyes on me. “But I feel like you’re only half here.”
I knew what he meant. Because half of me was here with Liam, reliving that moment in the club where he’d been so close to kissing me, I could practically taste it. But the other half of me was in my kitchen with Heath, with his lips on my neck and the promise of more on his tongue.
“I like my hand there, too,” I whispered. “But…”
He squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
I almost didn’t want to say it, but I didn’t want to be dishonest either. That wasn’t in my nature. “I can’t…I don’t know. I’m not in a position to get into a relationship.”
Liam nodded. “Okay, and…”
I blinked. “Well. And nothing, I guess. It’s just, there’s kind of someone else… God, I’m so sorry, that sounds awful after just sort of asking you out, not to mention almost letting you kiss me…”
He cocked his head to one side like he was truly confused. “I don’t understand. You wanted me to kiss you, though, right?”
My cheeks had to be red. “Yes,” I admitted.
“Because you think I’m hot.” He grinned.
Arrogant shit. “I never said that.”
“Your kiss me, Liam face said it.”
“I do not have a kiss me, Liam face!”
“Oh, but you do. Looks a lot like that.” He pointed one finger at me and made a circular motion, roughly the same size as my head. “You’re making it right now.”
I went to bat his finger away, but he caught my hand instead. His fingertips rested over the pulse point in my wrist, and I hoped he didn’t notice how hard my heart was beating. Any argument I had died on my tongue. “You wanted to kiss me, too.” It was a weak protest.
“Fuck yes, I did. I still do.”
It was as if the air had been sucked from the car. I couldn’t breathe.
Liam’s fingertips stroked absently over the smooth skin at my wrist. “I get you have feelings for Heath.”
I jerked back an inch. “How…?”
His fingers walked a path up my arm, tickling the soft skin. “Why else would you be asking me to help him? Most people wouldn’t put themselves out on such a limb for just a random guy they barely know.”
“We haven’t even spoken about it,” I admitted. “Heath and I. We aren’t dating or anything.”
“But you know it’s there. You feel it.” He pressed his fingers into my arm, demanding my attention. A tiny groan escaped him. “Fuck, Mae. I don’t even care. I’m not asking for a relationship. I don’t even think I’m in a place to give you that, either. I’m not a relationship sort of guy. But I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the minute I saw you at the funeral.”
“Weird thing to be thinking at a funeral, Liam.”
He chuckled. “Couldn’t help it. You’re really cute when you’ve got running eye makeup and snot all over your face.”
“Oh, shut up. I didn’t even cry. My makeup was flawless. There was certainly no snot. God, you’re annoying.”
He grasped my chin between his fingers. “And you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Oh, he was smooth. “How many women have you said that to?”
“Only you.”
He was probably lying. He was a lawyer, for Christ’s sakes. He lied for a living. “It’s late. I should probably go inside.”
He glanced at the clock. “Two minutes to midnight. I told you I’d have you home on time for your cup of tea and knitting.” He laughed at his own, not even funny, joke.
“Did I really say I was thinking about asking you out again? I think I hit my head during the shooting.” I tugged the handle on the door. “Bye, Liam.”
“Bye, Mae.”
I got out and strode down the path, trying to concentrate on how I’d have to get Tori to drive me to the prison tomorrow to pick up my car, and fumbling for my house keys in the deep pockets of my purse. Anything to distract myself until Liam drove away. I didn’t want him to see that I was disappointed over my own inability to make a move.
I should have just kissed him.
“Mae!” A car door slammed behind me, then footsteps thumped against the path.
I spun around to find Liam chasing after me. “What? Did I forget something?”
He stopped in front of me, so close I had to crane my neck to look up at him.
“Yeah. You did.”
He cupped my face with both hands and laid the softest, sweetest kiss on my mouth. It was barely a brush of lips, a mere taste of what he had to offer before he pulled back.
But something in that tiny kiss made my insides light up like the Fourth of July. Sparks flew through my body, igniting at my mouth and traveling all over.
Liam stared at me for a moment, then snaked his hand around to the back of my head. “Fuck, Mae,” he muttered softly. “What the hell?”
He echoed my thoughts exactly. And this time when he leaned in again, he kissed me properly. His lips found mine, sweet and soft, his tongue immediately seeking entrance.
I opened for him, fingers finding his belt and hauling him in close. His body was big, his chest hard, and he crowded me in the best possible way. His other arm came around me, caging me as if I might try to walk away from him.
But I wasn’t going anywhere. Any concerns or worries I might have had flew straight out of my mind, and I let myself get lost in Liam’s touch. Everything around me disappeared, until it was just him and me, and the connection sparking between us.
It could have been minutes or hours that we stood there, kissing like we were drowning. He held me tight, a solid strength, until he finally moved away, reluctance clear in the slow, agonizing movement of parting.
His eyes were slightly unfocused, and he blinked once, clearing them.
My lips tingled, and something deep inside me yearned to pull him in again, and just stand out here for the rest of the night, kissing until we both collapsed. “That was…” I didn’t even know how to describe it. Earth-shattering? Mind-numbing? The best kiss of my life? I’d had good kisses before. I’d had kisses that turned to more.
But I couldn’t remember one ever being like that.
The way Liam kissed was like opening a portal to a different part of me, one I didn’t even know existed. It was a heady feeling, just kissing someone and having that be enough because it was that damn good. It was experiencing your first love all over again, where you were too young to think about going further, and every kiss was a whole new experience.
He swallowed hard. “You’re going to turn into a pumpkin. It’s past midnight, Cinderella.”
I loved the rasp to his voice. It was so freaking sexy. There was a matching one in mine. “Cinderella is in the mood to be a rebel.”
He ran a finger down the side of my face, then over my lips. The longing in his eyes told me everything his words weren’t. He wanted to kiss me again. “Tomorrow. Eleven.”
I glanced up at him. “You asking me out again?”
He bit his lip, the longing clear on his face. But gave a tiny shake of his head. “Not exactly. I’m meeting with Heath. And he wants you there.”
23
Mae
This time when I filled out the paperwork to visit Heath, my visit was approved instantly. As was Liam’s, and I followed him through to the visitor’s room. The big space had the same unpleasant smell of cheap disinfectant, and the floor-to-ceiling windows let in light but were marred by ugly security bars. There was no attempt at decoration, just a bunch of scuffed tables and chairs spread out haphazardly around the space.
Liam
scrunched his nose up at the grubby table we were assigned and avoided touching it, like it was the seat of a public toilet.
I couldn’t help laughing at him. “Don’t want to get your Armani suit dirty?”
He glanced over at me. “Would you? This thing is worth thousands, and it’s my favorite. I don’t know what I was thinking, wearing it here. I forgot I’d have to do this interview in the visitor’s room. That’s your fault, you know? I’m totally sending you the dry-cleaning bill.”
I gaped at him. “How is it my fault?”
“Normally I’d get an interview room. But since you’re tagging along, I can’t get us in there. I tried pulling strings with one of the guards, but it was a no-go.”
“Jesus,” I grumbled. “And you called me Cinderella. Who’s being a princess now?”
He grinned, inching closer to me, until his leg brushed mine beneath the table. “Speaking of last night…”
I didn’t look at him. “What about it?”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I tried to hide a grin. “Well, being in a drive-by shooting is quite a traumatic experience. It’s understandable it might be on your mind.”
His mouth moved close to my ear. “That’s not what I spent all night thinking about.”
A tiny shiver ran down my spine. “You didn’t sleep?”
“Couldn’t. I just kept thinking about what I could have been doing if I’d asked to go inside with you.”
I glanced around the room. We’d been the first in the visitor’s line, but now that we’d been in here a few minutes, the place was filling up. Other prisoners were already at tables with their families, but there was still no sign of Heath. I lowered my voice, hoping the buzz of the people around us would give us a tiny bit of privacy. “Did you want to knit, too?”
He sniggered. “Not exactly what I had in mind. Unless…do you do that naked? I could get on board if it’s naked knitting.”
I stifled a giggle right as a shadow fell over me.
Heath.
Guilt instantly swamped me, and I jumped up. “Hey!” I said it a little too loudly. My gaze fell to the cuffs around his wrists. On instinct, I moved in to hug him.
He sidestepped, right as a voice across the room barked, “Donovan! Keep your hands to yourself or you’re out.”
My mouth dropped open, my gaze sliding past Heath and straight onto Rowe.
He smirked at me.
Did the man ever take a day off? I smiled sweetly and flipped him the bird.
“Leave her alone, Rowe,” Liam called out. “She’s with me.”
I gaped at him. “You know each other?”
“He’s the guard I know. We play on the same baseball team.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. He’s pretty good, too. Not as good as me, but he does okay.” He said it loud enough for Rowe to hear, with a big grin.
Rowe huffed something unintelligible and turned away.
But my gaze lingered on his back, and the way his broad shoulders narrowed down to his waist, and his ass that looked entirely too good in his uniform.
Someone cleared their throat, and when I tore my gaze away from Rowe, I found Heath and Liam already seated and staring up at me.
I slunk down in my seat. “Sorry,” I murmured, embarrassment flushing my skin. Well, this wasn’t awkward at all. I was just casually surrounded by one man who I was harboring some real feelings for, one man who I’d shared the best kiss of my life with last night, and a third who was just sinfully hot and kinda made me want to jump his bones, even if he was a complete and utter asshole.
All three in the same room. All three staring at me.
“Sorry, what?” I asked Liam and Heath, suddenly aware they were waiting on me to say something. How long had I been staring at Rowe for?
“I was just telling Heath about the information I have on his case.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Okay. And?”
“And honestly, it doesn’t look great. I mean, the fact his prints are the only ones on the murder weapon is kind of a big problem.”
“So the murderer wore gloves!” I huffed.
Liam waved a hand at me. “Settle down, Sherlock. There’s also the fact there was no sign of forced entry.”
“Maybe Jayela didn’t lock the door when she came in?”
Liam frowned at me. “And there’s audio of Heath confessing.”
“They were beating the shit out of him! What was he supposed to do? Sing a tune from Fiddler on the Roof?”
“We’ll try to recant his statement, but it probably won’t do us much good.”
“That’s such bullshit!”
“Mae,” Heath said quietly. “Stop. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not!”
Liam shushed me, which was fair enough because I was getting screechy enough that Rowe looked over in our direction again. I lowered my voice. “That’s all circumstantial.”
“Maybe so. But I’ve won prosecution cases with less evidence than this. A lot less. And you better believe they’re going to put a lawyer as good as me on this case. When it’s a cop, they aren’t going to push this off to some first year. They’re going to get the guys who go straight for the jugular.” He offered Heath a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, bro. But you seriously have no case for me to argue. Like, nothing. Isn’t there anything you can give me?” He turned to me. “Either of you? Anything. Nothing is too small at this point in time. A noise in the night? Something out of place in your building? Some other huge, jealous, handsome ex who would have a reason to do this?”
Heath rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Actually, I do have something. But the more I think about it, the more I suspect it’s too good to be true.”
Liam made a hurry-up motion, flicking his hand around. “Skip over the dramatic pause for effect and start talking.”
“One of the guys in here, DeWitt. He’s in with a gang. Seems to be a big shot from what I can tell. He said there was a hit out on Jayela. Actually, he said he was the one who put the hit out there.”
Shock punched me in the gut, robbing me of breath. That was the last thing I’d expected him to say.
Heath shook his head slowly, his gaze focused on me now, instead of Liam. “He claims Boston was on the take. But Jayela wouldn’t play the game so…”
“So he had her killed?” My head spun, nausea swirling in my stomach. “No.” I shook my head. “No. I can’t…”
Liam’s hand landed on my back as I pushed my chair away from the table and rested my elbows on my thighs. I dropped my head while my mind spun and I tried to breathe around lungs that felt crushed. That couldn’t be true. I knew my sister’s job was dangerous. But not like this. And Boston was a good guy. A good cop! He would never be under some gang lord’s thumb.
Liam rubbed soothing circles on my back, and when I finally felt like the band across my chest had loosened, I looked up and met Heath’s gaze.
It was tortured.
“This is killing me,” he choked out. He had to swallow hard before he could speak again. “I hate that I can’t touch you. I’m so sorry, Mae.” His fingers curled around the tabletop, clenching so hard they turned white.
I nodded, trying to get myself together. All I wanted to do was run into his arms as well, but I couldn’t. And there was no point making this harder for both of us by needing it.
I turned to Liam. “We can use this, right?”
Liam scribbled something on his legal pad, but the frown etched into his forehead had me nibbling on a fingernail in worry.
He put his pen down. “I don’t know. I hope so. I’ve got some contacts, and I’ll put some feelers out. Try to get confirmation that this hit actually did exist. But unless this DeWitt is going to take the stand and testify…”
“He won’t,” Heath said stiffly.
My hope ebbed away at the finality of the statement.
“…then this is nothing but gossip. And we ne
ed proof if this is going to trump the evidence the cops already have.”
Liam must have registered the dejection on both mine and Heath’s faces. He picked up his pen again and forced some pep into his tone. “But that doesn’t mean this is over. I don’t give up that easily, and neither should the two of you. So, who else? Right now, we just have to look for viable suspects who we can cast reasonable doubt upon.”
Heath nodded, pulling himself together quicker than I could. “The cop who beat me up. He had feelings for Jayela. I guess you didn’t hear it on the tape?”
Liam pointed the pen at Heath. “Good. And no, it was suspiciously short. They very likely cut it down to fit their own agenda. But I can’t prove that. Who else there when it happened?”
“The other cop. A rookie.”
Liam groaned. “Your word against two cops? I think we all know how that will end. But we’ll add it to the list anyway. If this guy was in love with her, maybe he was stalking her, too. What else?”
“Her job,” I said slowly. “The night she died she was going back to work because she wasn’t happy with how a case was going. She’d been fighting with Boston—”
“Wait, you keep saying Boston. Do you mean Joshua Boston? He worked with your sister?”
“They were partners.”
Liam swore low under his breath. “I like the guy, even though he busts Eve’s balls constantly. But if he and Jayela were fighting, then that makes him a suspect, too.”
Heath glanced over at the two names written on the legal pad. “Great. So all our potential suspects and witnesses are cops.”
None of us needed to spell out how that was really no better than no other suspects at all.
I reached out across the table and squeezed Heath’s hand, quickly withdrawing before Rowe could notice. “It’s going to be okay.”
“The police will never consider that one of their own could have been responsible for this. Come on, Mae. You know how they work. They have their guy. They aren’t going to suddenly start investigating someone who’s been on the force twenty years.”
“Hate to admit it,” Liam closed his files, “but I agree. They’ve wrapped this case up with a bow, patted themselves on the back, and called it done. Getting them to investigate any other suspect is going to be a battle.”