You Again (a novella)

by Carolyn Scott

  You Again

  By Carolyn Scott

  Copyright 2012 Carolyn Scott

  Visit Carolyn at http://carolynscott.blogspot.com

  CHAPTER 1

  Lily jumped at the sound of the doorbell, splashing coffee over the sides of her mug and onto the kitchen bench. Oh God. An uninvited late night visitor was never a good thing, but it was downright disastrous after breaking the law only the day before. It would be the cops for sure.

  Maybe she shouldn’t answer it. If she wasn’t home, they couldn’t question her. Right? Wrong. They’d catch up to her eventually. She knew that from years of experience.

  Swallowing the remainder of her coffee to inject some caffeine-induced confidence into her system, she walked into the hall and opened the door.

  Luke Tanner.

  She wished she had more coffee so she could toss it over the bastard.

  Lily crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. No way was she inviting the son-of-a-bitch inside. Pity it was a warm summer’s night and her automatic porch light was working fine because he deserved to be out in the cold and dark, exactly where he’d left her after he ended their relationship.

  “Well,” she said, flatly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered by his sudden reappearance after two years, “what an unpleasant surprise this is.”

  “Hello, Lil.” His voice was equally flat and devoid of any emotion. Not that she expected him to be overcome with sentimentality but a little note of regret, maybe a sigh, wouldn’t have gone astray. Begging she could definitely handle.

  When she’d played their reunion over in her mind, he had captured her against his hard body and crushed her mouth with his kisses, whispering sweet sentiments over and over. Then she had ground her stiletto into his toe, or kneed him in the balls, and slammed the door in his face. She’d spent many lonely nights imagining that particular revenge.

  “What do you want, Luke? I’m busy.”

  His gaze dragged over her, taking in her bare feet, the tight leggings and too-short t-shirt she’d put on after her shower. He lingered longer than necessary on her thighs and she wished she’d worn jeans instead. She hadn’t expected company or the leggings would have stayed in the drawer.

  She resisted the urge to tug the t-shirt over her butt. She didn’t want him thinking she was self-conscious because she wasn’t. It’s just that his hot stare somehow made her feel exposed, naked.

  “I smell coffee,” he said.

  “You aren’t coming in.”

  He took a step forward, getting close enough for her to reach out and touch the smooth skin of the biceps bulging out of his t-shirt. He was so masculine, so sexy, she could feel the pull of his powerful presence, reeling her in like a fish on a line.

  Concentrate, Lil. Luke could be devious. She needed to be on her guard in case she found herself inviting him in.

  “Just for a minute,” he said. He hooked his thumb in the belt loop of his jeans but kept the other one behind his back. Damn, but he looked hot like that, with his hair a little mussed and a five o’clock shadow darkening his strong jaw.

  Down, Girl. “You. Are. Not. Coming. In.” She shoved the door.

  For a big man, he moved fast. He got inside before the door closed. Damn.

  She spun round just as he leaned closer. Her nose nearly brushed against his chest giving her a whiff of her favorite scent—musky aftershave and Luke. She fought against the urge to press her lips against the hard muscles she knew lay beneath his t-shirt as he reached past her. Instead, she concentrated on her anger, a sure dampener to sexual energy.

  “We need to talk,” he said. His breath fanned her hair as he kept his hand on the door behind her. All she had to do was turn her head a little to the side and she could kiss him, taste him. She closed her eyes, fighting against the desire throbbing like a jungle beat within her.

  “Then talk,” she heard herself say in a voice that sounded strangely disembodied.

  Instead of talking, he caught her hands and drew them together. What the...? She opened her eyes in time to see handcuffs closing around her wrists.

  “What are you doing?” But she knew. And she should have expected it, should have been more prepared instead of distracted by his delicious body. Stupid girl.

  Never trust a cop, her father had said. Damn right.

  Luke stepped back out of range of her feet. What did he think she’d do, kick him?

  Tempting.

  “Take these off!” She held her hands out in front of her, fists clenched, the cuffs pulled tight.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed his handiwork. His lips curved up, mighty pleased with his efforts. “Now don’t get mad,” he said, the smile reaching his voice but not his eyes.

  “Too late.”

  He raised one conceited eyebrow and clicked his tongue like a disapproving schoolmaster. “Mind your language, Lily, or I’ll have to add verbal assault to the charges.”

  He’d come to arrest her for breaking into the Haywood-Smith residence. As soon as the cuffs had clicked around her wrists, she’d known it but she should have suspected sooner. His sudden reappearance after two years had nothing to do with kinky foreplay and everything to do with his job. His goddamn job. The job he’d left her for.

  The job he loved more than her.

  “If you’re going to arrest me, get on with it.” She squared her shoulders and held his gaze with her own.

  He looked away, his arms falling flat to his sides. “Not yet. We’re going to talk first.”

  “No, you’re going to un-cuff me first then we’ll talk.”

  “Not likely. Your left hook is lethal.”

  He was teasing. Her dad had insisted she learn to box so she could defend herself against the average attacker, but not someone built like Luke with years of police squad training behind him.

  “Besides,” his mouth quirked into a roguish smile, “having you bound and at my mercy was always one of my fantasies.”

  Her face grew hot and she cursed the fair complexion that made her blush easily. “Which is exactly how it’ll stay. A fantasy.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly. Was there a hint of regret in there? His gaze drifted to her thighs again where it lingered longer than decent.

  She pushed past him and strode down the hallway to her living room. “If you want to talk then we might as well do it down here.” She heard him following her and felt his hot gaze burning into her butt. With the material of her leggings molded to it, there was way more to see than she liked. Too bad. It may not be a pert little ass but it was better he focused there than have him witness her red face.

  “Whatever makes you comfortable, Babe,” he said, sounding a little absent. So, her butt could still distract him like it used to. Ha. Good.

  Although why that made her feel superior she couldn’t say.

  “I am not your Babe, Sweetheart, Sugar or anything else,” she said without turning around. “I am your ex and your suspect.” He started to say something but she cut him off. “And since when do the police send out detectives to arrest their exes? Alone?”

  She turned to face him, catching him checking out her ass. When he looked up, she raised both brows. “Where’s Tommy? He is still your partner, isn’t he?”

  He cleared his throat, glancing around the room. “I don’t have a partner anymore. I was promoted to superintendent.”

  “A desk job? So you got what you wanted. I hope you and your stationery cupboard are very happy together.”

  “Lil,” he said on a sigh, “don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Be pissed with you? Well, since I’m the one with my hands cuffed, I think I can be as angry as I damn well want!”

  He leane
d down so that his blue eyes were level with hers and she nearly took a step back under the force of his intense stare. She gulped and did her best to hold her own gaze steady and not lean into him or press her lips against the smooth curves of his mouth.

  “You are cuffed because you broke the law,” he said. “Since you’re an intelligent woman, I think you know that. I also think you’re annoyed with me because I ended our relationship.” The pulse in his cheek jumped but he otherwise became very still, his stare so piercing it sliced through her. She felt like he was stripping her naked and taking a good, long look at what he’d been missing.

  “Well, it appears they handed out a few brain cells with your promotion,” she said. “Although I’d still like to know why you’re here when you’re supposed to be doing nothing more strenuous than push a pen around.”

  He straightened. “I need coffee,” he said and strode towards her kitchen.

  Still reeling from the visual strip search, she took a moment to react. “Hey! You can’t just help yourself to my coffee!”

  “I’d ask you to make me one but you’re a little...tied up right now.” He laughed and disappeared into her adjoining kitchen. “Don’t worry. I remember where everything is.” She heard him open a cupboard and chuckle. “Still got the cow mugs, I see. Cute.”

  Hopefully he’d choke on his coffee. Slowly.

  “You know you’ve spilled coffee all over the bench,” he called out to her. “You should be more careful.”

  Choking was too good for him. Nothing short of complete ruination and humiliation would make up for tonight. That could be arranged. She knew people. Or, more to the point, her father had known people. She had his address book among his things in the attic. Surely there was a thug-for-hire listed in there.

  She sat on the couch and tried to look dignified but gave up. Dignity and handcuffs didn’t go together.

  “So I take it you’re not here officially since you’re alone,” she said when he re-entered carrying two black and white cow mugs. He handed one to her and she managed to take a sip, cuffs and all.

  He sat in a chair opposite and smiled at her over the rim of his mug. “It’s good to see you again, Lily. You’re looking good.”

  “Stop avoiding the issue and tell me what you want.” It was so typical of him to employ a delaying tactic that involved flattering her. Well, she wasn’t going to fall for it. Not this time.

  “I’m not avoiding anything, just telling you how good you look.” He shrugged. “Why can’t I do that? Besides, it’s true. I like your hair that way.”

  “It’s the same way I’ve worn it for the last six years.”

  “I know that, I’m just telling you I like it.” He set his mug down on the coffee table between them. “It’s called a compliment, Lil. It’s something people do in awkward moments like this.”

  “Oh, you mean moments like when your ex-boyfriend turns up on your doorstep, handcuffs you and helps himself to your coffee!”

  “I made you one too.”

  It was all an act. She knew that. He was deliberately trying to rile her so she’d let down her guard and confess. Well, too bad because she wasn’t confessing to anything. He’d have to come up with the evidence the old fashioned way.

  She leaned forward and fixed him with her hardest glare, a difficult task because he looked so damn sexy with his hair all mussed and his lips still quirked into the mischievous smile that always made her want to kiss him.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  He leaned back and stretched out his long legs under the table. Instead of answering immediately, he watched her beneath lowered lids, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He’d always been good at making silences work for him, getting her to talk when she didn’t really want to. It must be a cop thing. She’d forgotten how good he was at his job, and how much his job carried over into his life.

  “You know why I came here, Lil,” he finally said, his voice husky and low.

  “No, I don’t.” But she did. She just didn’t know how he knew. She’d been careful, made sure no one was home and no evidence was left behind. She must have slipped up somewhere.

  He sighed and rubbed his scalp with his fingers which only made his hair stand on end even more. He drew his legs back and shifted his butt to the edge of the chair. She thought he was going to stand but he remained seated.

  “You stole a necklace from a house in Toorak last night,” he said.

  “No, I was—."

  “Damn it, Lil, why did you do it?” He stood and paced the room, crossing from one side of her small lounge to the other in four easy strides. “Now I have to arrest you.”

  “If you would just let me speak, I could explain.”

  “Explain what?” He stopped pacing to look at her and she saw something in his blue eyes that she’d rarely seen before. Anger. Directed at her. Normally he was so cool, so in control, never giving anything away beneath that smooth facade. The only other time she’d seen him like this was when she’d told him her father was Wesley McAllister. THE Wesley McAllister, Melbourne’s most infamous thief. But even then his anger had simmered away into bitter disappointment. This time it was raw and didn’t look like simmering away at all.

  “Explain that you are just like your father?” he said. “That you were born to steal? That breaking and entering is in your blood and you can’t help it? Christ, Lily, don’t feed me any of that bullshit.”

  She’d never hit anyone in her life but damn she wanted to hit him now. She closed the gap between them, the thump thump of her blood loud in her ears, urging her to knock some sense him. But she stopped when her nose was only inches from his chest. He was too big, too solid, and she had her goddamn hands cuffed.

  She tipped her head back to fix him with her most murderous glare. But he’d lost some of his anger already. He watched her through half-closed eyes and his mouth turned soft, curved slightly down into a frown. His hands moved, lifted, and she thought he was going to capture her arms, but then they dropped back to his sides.

  “Damn,” he said quietly. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not?” she snapped. “It’s what you’re thinking.”

  “It’s not—."

  “Don’t deny it. You think I’ve turned out exactly how you thought I would. You think Dad taught me everything he knew about the family business before he died.” She must have hit on at least part of the truth because he suddenly looked away.

  “I’m sorry about your Dad,” he said, his focus somewhere past her shoulder. “I heard he died.”

  “Yeah, I got the flowers.”

  “And I got them back the next day. I wish you’d kept them.”

  “An insincere token? No thanks.”

  His gaze returned to her face, sharp and hard. “It wasn’t insincere. I was thinking about you, Lil.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. The tender gesture caught her off guard, made her want to throw herself into his arms and let him hold her. But then he withdrew and the moment passed. “I knew how much you loved your old man and I knew how much you’d be hurting.” He sighed and shook his head as if shaking off a bad memory.

  Why did he have to be nice? Just when she was prepared to slice his balls off and hand them back to him on the point of a knife, he went all gentlemanly on her.

  “And I didn’t mean what I said before,” he went on, speaking in that low, calming voice that dripped like thick honey from his lips. “I never thought you’d end up like him. You’re not a thief, Lil.”

  “Thank you,” she said, warily.

  “So that’s why I couldn’t believe it when I saw the footage of you stealing the necklace from the Haywood-Smith house.”

  Lily’s heart did one powerful whump and stopped. “What? Whoa, hold on a minute.” She tried to put her hands on her hips but the stupid cuffs stopped her. “Firstly, I didn’t steal anything and secondly, there was footage? I thought I’d disabled all the cameras.” Damn it, she must have missed one. An amate
ur’s mistake. Her father would be groaning in his grave from embarrassment.

  “Tommy’s team were put on the case,” he said. “He saw the CCTV tape from a hidden camera and recognized you so he came to me. I told him I’d talk to you first, unofficially. He agreed since he always liked you.”

  “This is unofficial?” She held out her hands. “Then take these things off.”

  “Are you going to hurt me if I do?” He eyed her, one brow raised.

  “Let’s just wait and see, shall we?”

  “How about we talk first and take them off after you explain why you stole the necklace.”

  “Hello? Are you even listening to me? I didn’t steal anything.” Had he grown deaf in the past two years or had his stubborn streak grown wider?

  “Lily, we have you on tape.”

  She rolled her eyes. It was like talking to a three year-old. “Did it catch me taking something?”

  His eyes narrowed as if he was recalling the video footage. “Not exac—."

  “No? Oh, then perhaps, just maybe, you got it wrong, Superintendent Tanner or whatever the hell you are now. Because I didn’t steal the goddamn necklace! I was returning it.”

  “Returning it?” He snorted. “Lil, surely you can come up with something better than that.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Nope,” he said, crossing his arms again. “Wrong answer. You couldn’t have been returning it because it’s missing.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Missing?” Lily sat on the edge of the coffee table, her chest so tight she couldn’t breathe. Oh God, she was going to jail.

  No one would believe her side of the story now. Her mother would never speak to her again. Her cousins would applaud her and dub her the new matriarch of the family—the lying, thieving side of the family, that is. Crap.

  Air. She needed air.

  “Just breathe, Babe.” Luke’s hand at the back of her neck felt warm and strong and steady. His fingers rubbed, working the knots in her muscles loose.

  She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting the air into her body, enjoying the sensations of his massage more than she should. He’d always given good rubs, finding just the right spot to ease even the worst tension.