Bad Cop

by Liz Kelly

  “It was nice of you to have Davis call us,” she said. “He was a good host.”

  “Yeah. He—he was helping me out. He’s a good kid. In fact, he’s…right over there,” Vance pointed, hoping like hell she’d follow after Pinks and leave him the hell alone.

  “He is a good kid,” she agreed. And then Vance actually felt her working up the courage to say, “But, I’m more interested in a man.”

  Goddamn it.

  Vance clenched and unclenched his fist, standing his ground while Young and Appetizing tried to reel him in. He cleared his throat.

  “Lacy, honey, how old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-two.”

  Almost Lolly’s age.

  “Who’d you come out here with?”

  “I drove,” she said. “I’d be happy to give you a ride home.”

  “Wouldn’t you be stranding some of your friends?”

  “They’d find rides.”

  He hesitated.

  “You could ask Davis to take them home in your truck,” she suggested.

  Vance turned his head to survey the party, not really seeing anything. Racy Lay had a reputation, and there was not a man alive who would blame him for taking her up on her invitation for the kind of ride she was offering.

  All right, maybe Brooks would blame him. Brooks would tell him that Lacy is one of those girls he shouldn’t be messin’ with. And that was probably true. But where was the Golden Boy when he needed him? Easy to be holier than thou when you were gettin’ some on a regular basis.

  Still.

  “Lacy, trust me on this. You don’t really want what you seem to be asking for, honey.”

  “Ha—”

  “I know you think you do,” he said, pulling out his phone. “But I’m actually waiting on a—”

  Lacy’s hand landed on his ass. Not up high, but waaay down low. Felt a little more like the inside of his thigh. Right next to where his semi-retired nuts were all tucked up nice and quiet inside his jeans. But with Lacy Ray’s fingers a breath away from the two of them, they were now howling at the moon, begging to be set loose and yelling at their buddy Johnson to start swingin’ his stuff around.

  The disconnect from his brain was immediate.

  Vance reached behind Lacy and placed a hand on the exact same spot of her body and squeezed, bringing her right up against him in an “I mean business,” kind of way.

  “I’m telling you right now. My heart does not get tangled up in this kind of…ride,” he said.

  Lacy licked her lips. “I’m more interested in your hands.”

  “Is that so?” He smiled. “Who are you trying to piss off?”

  Lacy shook her head. “Nobody. I’m just looking for a real good time.”

  “Well, darlin’, I just happen to have one of those in my back pocket.”

  ***

  Piper didn’t actually see Officer Stevenson, but there was a squad car that followed her all the way home. If she could be sure that he was doing the following, she would have gone up to the window and spoken to him about all this. Instead, she headed quickly into her condo building, not wanting to take the chance it was some other cop she had inadvertently pissed off.

  Once inside her bright little apartment, she emptied her purse onto the kitchen countertop and snatched up her phone. She’d call Raleigh’s main police station and see if they’d put her through to Office Stevenson, wherever he may be.

  She pushed the button and the text message indicator flashed.

  She read, Vance Evans. “I want a do—”

  “VANCE,” her heart sang out. Vance, Vance, Vance, Vance, she chanted in her mind as she opened up her phone and read his two texts, the first of which had come in hours ago. “How did I miss this?”

  She reread the texts.

  “I want a do-over.”

  And, coming in a couple hours later,

  “Piper. How badly did I mess this thing up?”

  How badly had he messed it up?

  Piper’s heart melted—just softened up and dripped off all the animosity she’d been feeling toward Vance. Because where she stood in this moment, it was so glaringly obvious that he’d only told her the truth. In fact, she had known it when he said it, but didn’t have the fortitude to face it, acknowledge it, and deal with it.

  But, boy, did she have to do all of that now.

  She texted back, “I’m the one who is messed up. Call me. Please.”

  She started to place a call to Officer Stevenson and then stopped and went back to texting Vance.

  “A do-over sounds wonderful.”

  ***

  Standing in between Lacy’s legs with both of his hands underneath her ass, Vance rubbed the bulging seam of his jeans against the seam of her short shorts while practicing the art of kissing in a very focused and calculated way.

  He didn’t notice the vibration of his phone.

  But seated on the hood of her car, her legs circled around his hips, Lacy did.

  “I probably wouldn’t mind all that vibratin’ if you’d put your phone in your front pocket,” she told him.

  Vance pulled away. “What?”

  “Either turn your phone off, or put it in your front pocket where it’ll do me some good.”

  Vance felt for his back pocket, planning to turn the damn thing off. He pulled it out, feeling for the off switch as he went back to Lacy’s lips.

  “Holy shit!” he said, not only pulling away from Lacy’s lips, but scrambling out of the iron-clad embrace of her legs. He looked down at his phone and read Piper’s two texts. When he looked up at Lacy and remembered what he’d just been doing, he felt physically ill. And it must have shown.

  Lacy took off her flip-flop and threw it at him.

  When his mouth dropped open but no explanation came out, she hopped off her car, picked up the flip-flop, and hit him with it.

  “What? I tried to tell you I was waiting for—” he said, starting to laugh in the face of her fury.

  “Vance Evans, you suck!” Lacy said, stomping away.

  He thought better of a snide retort and let the girl go. He turned in the other direction and dialed Piper back.

  “Piper!”

  “Vance,” she said, sounding breathless.

  There was silence while Vance tried to calm his heart, desperately wrenching himself out of the black hole that Lacy represented and moving into the sunshine that came with thinking about Piper. “Baby doll,” he breathed into the phone. “Forgive me.”

  “I like the idea of a do-over,” she said.

  “Yeah, I know. That’s—that’s what I’m trying to do here.”

  “No. I mean, I want a Cinco de Mayo do-over.”

  “Cinco do-what?”

  “Tomorrow night at The Charlie Horse—same bar, same premise—just you and me five years later.”

  “Same premise?”

  “Yes. You standing there…being you, and I’m….”

  “Looking to blow off steam?” he suggested with a snicker.

  “I’m….” She stopped talking and Vance heard her sigh. “I’m…looking for the love of my life.”

  Vance swallowed.

  “I’m your man. See you tomorrow night.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The moment Vance woke up Saturday morning he told himself he was too happy to go for a run. Piper was giving him a do-over and that was all he wanted to think about. He did not need a run.

  Because a run meant he had something inside him that needed to get out. And what happened last night between him and Lacy Ray was not something he needed to run out. Five minutes of his lips on top of Lacy’s did not constitute tying himself up in knots of guilt. No, he was not going for a run he told himself as he pulled on his athletic clothes and laced up his Nikes.

  God fucking dammit!

  He ran an extra mile just to shut his guilty conscience up.

  He stood bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. Lolly DuVal has ruined me forever. I didn’t know the meani
ng of the word guilt until she came into my life. And right now the whole thing is pissing me off. He went and pumped iron until he was too tired to worry about anything anymore.

  After showering, Vance took on the next problem of the day. He was scheduled to work tonight. So either he was finding someone to take his shift or he was turning in his badge earlier than anticipated because there was no way in hell he was missing this night with Piper.

  He was sitting on his couch taking care of that when the woman who was suddenly the bane of his existence crashed through his door, uninvited.

  “Get out,” he shouted at Lolly. “I am not in the mood for whatever holier-than-thou crap you are planning to feed me this morning.”

  “Oh,” she shouted back at him. “And don’t think I don’t know why. There is a picture being texted all over town of you sucking face with Lacy Ray.”

  Vance felt himself go white. A picture? How the hell is there a picture? And, oh Jesus. If Annabelle Devine got a hold of that picture, it was only a minute and a half before it would show up on Piper’s phone. “Fuck!”

  Lolly burst into hysterical laughter.

  “What the hell?”

  “There’s no picture. I just heard about everything from Davis and wanted to give you crap.”

  “This is all your fault,” he accused, shaking his phone at her. “Now I’m telling Piper everything. Confessing it all, this minute. And if she doesn’t go through with our do-over tonight, it is on your head.”

  “How is you being stupid my fault?”

  “Because I feel guilty! And I didn’t ever feel guilty until you came into my life. You and your Lollypop nonsense about what there is to like about women outside of the bedroom.”

  Lolly grabbed his phone out of his hands.

  “Jesus, you’re getting on my nerves,” he said.

  Lolly let the room stop vibrating around them for a moment before she said as calmly as she could, “Piper doesn’t need to know about last night.”

  “No,” he agreed. “But if she should ever find out….”

  Reluctantly Lolly handed his phone back. “I guess I’d want you to be the one to tell me. But, listen. Blame it on your deep despair over not having heard from her all week…and the alcohol. Tell her you and Brooks were tying one on because I was being a self-centered bitch.”

  Vance lifted a brow.

  “I’m exaggerating the circumstances to help you out.”

  “Right,” he scoffed. “Where is Brooks anyway?”

  “At his place. Still in bed.”

  Vance lifted two brows.

  “Yeah. Me being a self-centered bitch worked out really well for him.”

  “Lolly.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for taking care of my boy.”

  She smiled.

  “Now get the hell out so I can text Piper.”

  “If you have a problem, I’ll call her. She loves me.”

  “Of course she does,” Vance muttered as he heard her shut the door. Without hesitation, Vance started texting Piper.

  “In an effort to clear the air before tonight, I have a confession.”

  He sent that off and immediately a text from Piper came in.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Oh, so now you’re listening.” Vance muttered to himself. “Where the hell were you last night before I ventured back into man-whoredom?” He should just call her and talk this out. But he didn’t trust his stupid mouth, so he texted again.

  “Last night when I thought all was lost, I had a five-minute indiscretion.”

  “Only lasted five minutes? You must be terribly embarrassed.”

  “Very funny. Do you need the fully clothed details? Or are you gonna let me off easy?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how upset you get when I tell you that I sobbed in Officer Stevenson’s arms for an hour Sunday night.”

  Vance read the words twice before he threw his phone through the doors to his bedroom and fell back against the couch, stringing a foul-mouthed litany together about a motherfucking, cocksucking, overgrown ape.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” he shouted toward the ceiling.

  He bounded up to retrieve his phone, found it in the middle of his unmade bed, and dialed Piper.

  “I’m going to need a little more information,” he said with as much control as he could muster.

  “Like what?”

  Vance took his phone from his ear and made a face like he wanted to kill something. He pulled himself together and asked, “Like, were you in his goddamn bed while you were sobbing in his arms?”

  “Vance!”

  “Piper!”

  “Of course not!”

  “What do you mean “of course not?” You told me you were in the asshole’s arms. What am I supposed to think?”

  “It wasn’t like that. He was sitting on my front porch when I got home. After what you’d said to me that night, I felt so bad about the way I’ve been treating him in court that I sat down next to him to apologize. But all I could do was cry. He was kind enough to put his arm around me and just…be there.”

  Goddamn it! He wanted to throw his phone again. He really did.

  “Vance?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Say something.”

  “Say something? Okay—how ’bout this? I hate that I was the jackass who made you cry. The only thing I hate worse is that Kong was the one to comfort you.”

  What he stopped short of saying was that what was good for the goose was in no way, shape, or form tolerable for the goddamn gander. He didn’t just hate the thought of another man touching her. He couldn’t physically tolerate it. The caveman in him was beating his chest and looking around for a big fucking club. And apparently the caveman decided it was time for him to start talking.

  “Piper, I appreciate you telling me. And while we are clearing the air, I will go ahead and tell you now that I plan to track down Kong so the two of us can have a little chat.”

  “Vance, I think he’s protecting me.”

  “From what?”

  “I think I’ve pissed off one too many cops.”

  “Piper, it’s your job to win cases and get your clients off.”

  “Yes, but the way I do it, I make it personal.”

  The zero jurisdiction comment she’d thrown at him resonated in his brain, slowing him waaaay down.

  “Yes, baby doll, you do.”

  Vance heard her sigh. Then he heard a catch in her breath. Damn it.

  “Piper, I’m…sorry. I….”

  “You were right,” she sobbed. “That is not who I am. That is not who I want to be,” she sobbed some more and then sniffed. “They’re just doing their job, but I get so personally…absorbed in the case it’s like I’m the victim all over again.”

  “I know, baby. I know. Listen, I’ve got to tie up a few loose ends here, and as soon as they're done I’m coming to Raleigh. I’ll take you out for a nice dinner and we can talk all this out. Until then, I don’t want you thinking about any of it, okay? Just…stay in your apartment and…be safe. I’ll talk to Officer Stevenson, and we’ll get to the bottom of this. The three of us will figure this out, together.”

  “Vance, I need our night at The Charlie Horse.”

  “I know. You need me to finish what we started. I get it. You need me to stick around and not leave you stranded.”

  “Yes, that too, but I—”

  “I am on board with all of it. Believe me.”

  “Good. So we’ll turn Cinco de Nothing into Cinco de Satisfaction.”

  “You are singing my song.”

  “You’ll be there when I walk in around nine.”

  “Piper, under the circumstances, I think it’d be better if I just pick you up.”

  “Oh, my God. What part of the term “do-over” do you not understand? This is important, Vance, vitally important. I need you standing in the middle of the bar trolling for chicks or whatever you
were doing five years ago when I walked in. And bring those legendary moves with you. I am not kidding about this. You will act like you have no idea who I am—until I tell you—which is the part that makes it a do-over.”

  “Wait. Let me get this straight. You, Piper Beaumont—the girl who has a huge issue with cops—wants Vance Evans, Bad Cop to show up at the do-over.”

  “I do. I really do.”

  “Okay, but I warn you. I’m a little rusty.”

  “Apparently there were five minutes last night that prove otherwise.”

  “Well, thanks so much for that reminder.”

  “I’ll see you around nine. There’s a good band playing tonight, so the place should be just as crowded.”

  “Piper,” Vance said, dropping his voice low and grinding out every word, “I remember every minute of that night. You came in looking for trouble and you found it. You were the aggressor and the do-over I’m interested in is with that girl. With Naughty Piper. And, just so we’re clear? There will be a shot waiting for you at the bar.”

  He hung up before she could respond.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Piper’s heart was racing a mile a minute as she pulled into a parking spot and exited her TT. She was late. Unintentionally late, but she was a good half hour behind schedule because it took every ounce of courage she had to get dressed and then walk out the door. But if Vance wanted Naughty Piper, she was determined to give him Naughty Piper.

  Normally she’d wear a tank top under her slinky yellow dress because it was so low cut in both the front and back that any bra would be overly exposed. Tonight she’d psyched herself into going braless and tankless. And now, as she felt “the girls” bounce across the parking lot, she knew her nipples were unapologetically announcing to the world exactly where they were.

  So be it.

  Tonight was not for shrinking violets. Tonight was for reinventing what had begun so well and ended so poorly.

  Shoulders back, bright-eyed, she drew forth her most flirtatious smile and shined it brightly at the hulking bouncer who moved to open the door. He returned her smile with a knowing grin—like he knew she was looking for trouble and had come to the right place. She was surprised when he signaled one of the bartenders and said, “Sonny over there will take care of you.”