Live a Little!

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Live a Little! Page 12

by Nancy Warren


  She batted his hands off her breasts and jumped to her feet. “Stop it. I’m going to be late.”

  He had the indefinable pleasure of watching Cyn race through her morning routine, still with the sleepy, half-dazed expression on her face. She ran into the shower, raced back out, naked and damp, and he wanted her again.

  Sex was obviously the last thing on her mind as she scrambled around drying her hair and doing her makeup at the same time, tossing panties and bra on the bed. “Where are my stockings?” She gave a cry of triumph and picked up a pair of black panty hose off the floor, then glared at him.

  “What?”

  She stuck her fist through where the crotch used to be. Their eyes met, and damn if the air didn’t sizzle. If he stood there, staring at her, while they both thought about last night, he was either going to catch fire or make her really, really late for work.

  “I’ll get the coffee started,” he said abruptly, and escaped before he got them both in trouble.

  “MMM,” SHE SAID DREAMILY as she took her first sip of coffee, her eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face. “You have a standing invitation to make my morning coffee.”

  He loved the way she could make drinking coffee seem so special. In fact, he loved a lot of things about this woman. “I may take you up on that offer—if I get a night like last night thrown into the bargain.”

  Her eyes stayed closed, but a dimple peeped in her cheek. “Deal.” She opened her eyes and popped two pieces of grainy bread into the toaster. “What are you going to do today?”

  Before he could answer, his cell phone rang.

  “Wheeler.”

  “Jake, it’s Adam.”

  Jake’s good morning mood evaporated along with the fragrant steam from the coffee. If the special agent in charge was calling, it probably wasn’t to wish him a good morning.

  “Any progress on the Oceanic investigation?” Adam asked.

  Jake closed his eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter, knowing he was about to lie to a man he respected. “I’ve found something, yeah.” He fished the chopstick pieces out of his pocket. In the daylight they looked even less exciting than they had last night. “I’m sending a sample into the lab today for analysis.” That would buy him several days of extra time, and he sure as hell better come up with something by then.

  Or he’d be bombarded with lame jokes involving Chinese food when he returned to the bureau.

  “What is—”

  “Look, I can’t say right now.”

  “Somebody there?”

  “Yeah.”

  His boss sighed grumpily. “She better be good-looking.”

  “Oh, yeah, she’s good-looking,” Jake said, winking at Cyn and watching her blush.

  His grin went south at Adam’s next words. “I need you back at work, Jake. I’m stretching things as it is. You’ve got one more week.”

  “Yeah, okay.” As he ended the call, he tried to feel angry, but he’d have done the same thing in Adam’s place. And when the man discovered the evidence he’d uncovered was a broken chopstick…well, it had bought him a week. He’d better make the most of those seven days.

  “A broken chopstick is the new development?” Cyn had obviously gone back to thinking he was insane. Rightly so.

  Jake blew out a breath, wondering if he should just chuck the chopstick in the trash and admit defeat. But he was stubborn. One week could be all he needed. “You’d be amazed how much the crime labs will get from this.” He stared at the uninspiring piece of evidence. “What kind of tree wood, possibly a location where the chopsticks were made.” He shrugged irritably. The utter frustration he felt made him wish he had a punching bag handy. “Damn it. I wish we’d found something.”

  Her brow creased in ready sympathy. “You’ve got another week. There must be something else you can try. Old ground you can revisit.”

  “Harrison’s the key. I know it. I can’t believe the little weasel split the country so fast.”

  “Could he be back from vacation?”

  Jake shook his head. “If his passport’s used anywhere, we’ll be notified right away. Interpol and the cops in Hong Kong are keeping an eye out for him. But he’s disappeared.” And Jake had a bad feeling about that. If Harrison had cut and run, Hong Kong was the perfect place to get a new passport, a new identity. Hell, with enough money, he could have had so much cosmetic surgery his own mother wouldn’t recognize him. He could be anywhere in the world right now.

  “What about his home?”

  “I went there right after he left town. Looked like he was coming back. There was fresh milk in the fridge, his stuff all around. Phone still hooked up.”

  She tapped her coffee mug, a black-and-white affair with zigzagging patterns on it. “Does he rent or own?”

  “Rents an apartment downtown. Look, I appreciate your help but—”

  “It’s the second of the month,” she said, glancing at her wall calendar to confirm the date.

  “I told you we’d be notified if he comes—”

  “What about his rent? It would have been due yesterday. Did he wire money to pay it? Contact the landlord? That might help us track him down.”

  For a second Jake just stared at her, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to have missed something so obvious. Then he leaned forward, grabbed her head in his hands and kissed her. “You are not only beautiful, you’re brilliant.”

  Her eyes shone. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

  “Gorgeous. Now get going or you’ll be late for work.” As if on cue, the toast popped up, and so did Cyn.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said, grabbing health-food-store peanut butter and slapping it on both pieces of toast.

  “Too dangerous,” he replied, and immediately regretted the words. Danger was her drug of choice; he had to remember that. “Dangerously boring,” he amended hastily.

  She handed him a piece of toast. “Who’s going with you?”

  “Nobody.”

  “What if Harrison’s there?”

  “I’ll ask him some questions. That’s it.”

  “He might—”

  “He won’t. Now get.”

  She sent him a look that promised retribution, then grabbed her coat and bag and headed for the door.

  “Hey!” He halted her in the doorway. “About last night.”

  A wary expression entered her green eyes. She was obviously expecting him to lecture her again about keeping out of trouble. But that wasn’t what was on his mind. He was remembering how she’d wrapped her arms around him when he most needed comfort, how she’d held him and loved him when his mood was black with pain and grief.

  He wanted to kiss her, but her mouth was busy chewing toast, so he raised her hand and kissed the palm. “Thanks.”

  Once he’d returned to his place long enough for a quick shower and change of clothes, he headed to Harrison’s apartment building. On the way, he called the bureau from his car.

  “What?” a voice snarled.

  Even though his buddy Carl couldn’t see him, Jake grinned. “You been taking more of those public relations courses?”

  “Wheeler! You better be calling to tell me you’re hauling your ass back in here.”

  “Soon, Carl. I need you to confirm that Harrison, the former Oceanic accountant, hasn’t returned to the States.”

  There was a huffy blasphemy. “I got a terrorist plot that looks like a hoax, but I gotta check it out, two bank robberies with the same M.O. as a string of heists in Texas, a murdered drug dealer and an ulcer. And you want me keeping tabs on some clerk who’s taking a holiday.” Jake heard papers scrabbling; Carl’s chair squealed as he rolled it to his file drawer. “Seems like everybody’s on holiday,” he grumbled. “Hold on.”

  The line clicked and Jake waited.

  Ahead of him a van with a pile of kids in it pulled into his lane. Some kind of field trip, he imagined. Or maybe a day care; they didn’t look old enough to his inexperienced eye to
be in school. The mom, or teacher, appeared pretty perky for a woman with a vanful of kids. She had short red hair, but it didn’t have the attitude Cyn’s hair did. And just like that he pictured Cyn with kids.

  He felt as if he’d just been punched. The kids he’d imagined were his kids. His and Cynthia’s. Which just made him agree with Carl that he’d been on holiday too long. Jake needed a good dose of reality.

  The line clicked and he took a right turn, losing sight of the toddler van. “Nope. No sign of Harrison. If he’s reentered the States he used a different passport.”

  “Thanks, buddy.”

  “No sweat. Hey, come by for dinner one night next week. Susan’s got a friend she wants you to meet.”

  Jake’s expletive was met with a coarse chuckle. He figured they were both recalling the women Carl’s wife had already set him up with: a belly dancer who’d just dumped her fourth husband and a dog groomer who’d rubbed his thigh and made sexual innuendos about his “gun” all through dinner. He mostly went along with it for the entertainment value, and because he liked Carl and his wife. “Who is it this time?”

  “A medium.”

  There was a second of silence. “As in, talks to dead people?”

  “Yep.” Carl gave a snort of ill-disguised merriment.

  Jake shook his head. “Doesn’t Susan have any friends who are sane?”

  “Not that she’d let you get near.”

  He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel while he waited for the light to go green. “Tell Susan thanks, but I’m seeing someone.”

  “No kidding. Is she hot?”

  Jake thought about Cyn and a reluctant grin kicked up one side of his mouth. The light turned green and he put his foot on the gas. “Oh, yeah. She’s hot.”

  “Bring her for dinner. We’d love to meet her. You pick the day.”

  “I’ll ask her.” He didn’t know what Carl would make of the new woman in his life, but he had a feeling Susan and Cyn would get on like a house on fire. They were equally nuts, and he was crazy about both of them.

  JAKE’S CELL PHONE RANG. Thinking it was Carl calling back, he stuck the earpiece back in his ear and spoke in the direction of the microphone once more. “Wheeler.”

  “That’s not a very friendly greeting. It could be a girl calling.” Just hearing Cyn’s deliberately provocative purr made him jerk the wheel.

  A low laugh traveled through his earpiece as intimately as though she had her lips pressed against him. “Careful, you don’t want to run off the road.”

  “Where are you?” But he already knew. He gritted his teeth and glared into the rearview mirror. She wasn’t hard to spot. She was right behind him, following in her sensible blue compact, sending him a cheery little wave. The car didn’t suit her at all; she should be driving a bad-girl black speed machine, suitable for driving a man insane. “Why aren’t you at work?”

  “I am. I’m helping you. Don’t fuss. I can’t let you go alone to a suspect’s apartment without backup.”

  He was touched as well as mildly amused that she thought he needed her to protect him. “So, you’re my backup.”

  “That’s right.” Something in her tone told him to leave it, so he did. “I told Agnes I had a dentist appointment. I’ll go in later.”

  He could argue, he could rant, he could order her to turn around. But he knew it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. “I could lose you in less than five minutes.” He eyed the next exit off the I-5 and his gas-pedal foot started to itch. She might think she was protecting him by tagging along, but in fact he’d just lose his concentration if she were around.

  “You wouldn’t be such a spoilsport.”

  No. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn’t. He owed her too much. Something had changed between them last night and he didn’t think he could ever treat her quite the same. Besides, she was already late for work. Another hour wouldn’t change anything.

  Thoughts of Cyn, him and an hour naturally led him in a certain direction. He hesitated a moment. His line was secure; so was hers. Traffic was slow, and they were both over twenty-one. He glanced back and she blew him a kiss. “What exactly are you going to do as my backup?”

  That laugh of hers channeled right to his cojones, inspiring all kinds of lustful ideas. She seemed to catch right on to his mood. “What will I do? It seems to me—but you’re the expert, so put me straight if you need to—it seems to me that I’m here as your sidekick, to help and aid you in any way whatsoever.”

  “And in return? What do you expect of me, your…partner?”

  He tilted the rearview mirror so he could watch her as she settled back and shot him a provocative glance that scorched even through her front windscreen and his rear one. “I want another night like last night. In fact, I want lots of them.”

  Why was he not surprised the woman even used a telephone as a sex toy? “Great. Nightly stud service. Anything else?”

  “Then there’s the daytime….” Her lustful sigh surprised a chuckle out of him.

  The traffic was brought to a standstill for road construction, so he settled back in his seat to play her game for a few minutes. “What about the daytime?”

  “I have wants…needs. They aren’t always governed by the clock.”

  He could swear he saw her chest rising and falling as her breathing quickened. He shifted in his seat, struggling to control his own breathing. “Ms. Baxter. Is it possible you’re trying to have phone sex with a federal agent?”

  “I’m not sure…I never thought about it.” Her lips tilted. “Yes.”

  “It’s only fair to warn you, we’re not supposed to have phone sex on the job.”

  “Ignoring the fact that you’re on stress leave, don’t you get a coffee break?”

  “I suppose I could relax for a few minutes,” he admitted, thoroughly enjoying himself. He glanced at Cyn again and wondered if she had any idea just how unrelaxed he was at this moment.

  “Now, let’s see….”

  There was a pause during which he imagined all kinds of wicked and wacky scenarios she might come up with, while nothing but silence came from the phone. “Still there?” he asked at last.

  “Yes.” She sounded hesitant. “It’s just that I’ve never had phone sex before. I’m not sure how to begin.”

  Damn, there she went again. One minute sexy vixen, next the innocent act. He just wished he could determine which one was the act. “Well, you’re doing something right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If you were with me, you’d understand.”

  “You mean you’re, um…?”

  “I’ve got a boner with your name on it, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

  She sighed as though he’d just whispered love words in her ear. Some innocent. She wanted dirty talk, he’d give it to her. “Do you know what I’m going to do with this boner?”

  In the rearview mirror he watched her shake her head before he heard her whispered, “No.”

  “I’ll tell you just exactly what I’m going to do.” And in the time it took for the gal holding the Stop-Slow sign to finish a cigarette, he did, using explicit language and coming up with a few scenarios he wasn’t sure a man could pull off without bionic limbs.

  “Oh, stop it.” Cyn laughed, but there was a breathless, turned-on edge to it. “You can’t do that on a hang glider. You’d die trying.”

  “I’d die with a smile on my face.”

  “Me, too,” she whispered. Their gazes connected and held, and he was surprised the two car windows separating them didn’t melt.

  The traffic had started moving and he was able to take the next turnoff. She followed. And kept on following until he pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. She parked beside him and got out, looking around with a puzzled expression. He rolled down the window and she leaned in. “This is a shopping mall.”

  “It is? You got me so turned inside out I couldn’t remember where I was going.” He grinned at her raised eyebrows. “Hop in
. No sense taking two cars.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him for a moment as though debating whether she should trust him. Smart lady. He leaned over and opened the passenger side, and she swung in beside him.

  “So, where are we—”

  She never finished the sentence. He had his arms around her and his lips on hers so fast she didn’t even have time to shut her eyes. He didn’t shut his, either, just watched as her eyes gave away what her body was feeling. From wide-eyed and stiff, she went to dilated pupils and a soft, yielding form. She smelled good, she felt good, she tasted good. And he forgot himself as his teasing taste of her turned into a serious feast.

  The honk of a horn brought him to his senses. This was a suburban shopping mall in midmorning, not the bridal suite at a fancy lodge in the middle of nowhere. And that’s where he’d really rather be, he realized, as he pulled back.

  “What was that for?” she asked hazily.

  “Cover,” he croaked.

  “Cover?”

  Like a sinful thought, a light twinkled deep in her amazing green eyes. “You said you were going to the dentist. Now you can say with perfect truth that you had your mouth thoroughly examined.”

  “Do I have any cavities?”

  “Oh, yeah. One particular cavity I’m going to have to fill later.” She snorted with laughter, and he grinned as he settled back into his own seat and started the engine. “I might have to use my drill.”

  “I don’t have time to play dentist.”

  “Looked to me like that cavity needed urgent attention,” he said, letting his finger trail up her thigh.

  She slapped his hand away and crossed her legs. Which only made the view better. “I think you’d better unplug that drill for a while. It’s going to wear out.”

  “Now who’s a spoilsport?”

  She was trying to appear prim, but having a hard time of it. Finally, she gave up and outright grinned at him. “So, where are we going?”

  “The Buena Vista Garden Apartments. A pricey California-style lowrise recently home to a Mr. Harrison.”

  “Do you suppose he’ll be there?”

  “I checked this morning. He definitely didn’t reenter the States with his own passport.” Jake gritted his teeth just knowing that slimy little bean counter had left the country in the first place, before they’d had a chance to talk to him.

 

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