Bend (Vegas Heat—Book One)
Published by Molly McLain Books, LLC
Copyright © 2016 Molly McLain Books, LLC
Cover Design:
Designs by Dana
Cover Photo:
Licensed through DepositPhotos
Editor:
Ellie McLove
Interior Book Design & Formatting:
Christine Borgford, Type A Formatting
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a media retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher of this book, excepting brief quotations for use in reviews. Purchase only authorized copies.
This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, brands, etc. are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, locations, events, etc. are entirely coincidental.
The Hardass
Focused and in control at all times. Most people think I’m a prick—and I’ll be the first to admit that’s probably true. But I’d rather be a take-no-shit cop than the kind of man genetics says I should be. You break the law, you pay the price. I don’t give a damn if you’re the captain’s daughter or the Queen of friggin’ England.
The Princess
I have no patience for the cocky men my father oversees. Or maybe it’s just Sergeant Hardass who gets under my skin. Not only is he sexy as sin, he refuses to cut me a break. And now I have to work with the arrogant jerk.
I shouldn’t want him, but a secret part of me craves his unforgiving edge. He could give me everything I need, but, first, I have to break down his walls.
I have to make him bend.
Table of Contents
Bend
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Books by Molly McLain
Acknowledgements
About the Author
To Maline & Trisha, my Vegas partners in crime.
Can’t wait to do it again, ladies!
“YOU’RE KIDDING ME.” THE PRETTY brunette blinks up at me from the driver’s side window, her copper eyes as big and as bright as the Las Vegas sun.
“Afraid not, ma’am. License, registration, and insurance?” I ask again, this time holding out my hand. She thinks she’ll get special treatment because she’s the captain’s daughter? Not on my watch, babe.
“Don’t be a dick, Trent. I’m already late for work.”
And yet she makes no move for the paperwork I’ve asked for. Twice.
“Ma’am, I’m going to ask you one more time for your license, registration, and insurance. If you fail to cooperate, I’ll be forced to call for backup, at which time you’ll be escorted from your vehicle.” Looks like she’s wearing a short skirt this morning. Might be a nice start to my day.
“Goddammit, Trent! I seriously don’t have time for this shit!”
Neither do I, but Kinsey with her panties in a bunch is a show I’d hate to miss. “Then I suggest you do as I ask, Ms. Malloy.”
She narrows those fiery eyes at me before she gives an exasperated huff and reaches for her purse. “Do you enjoy being a jerk, Sergeant Clark?”
As a matter of fact, I do. Especially when she’s involved. It’s nothing personal—it’s just fun.
“You know damn well I’m valid on both accounts, since you just pulled me over last week.”
“A lot could change in seven days, ma’am.”
“Ugh!” she groans, snatching her license from her wallet. “Quit with the ma’am crap already! I’m younger than you, for God’s sake!”
Probably explains why she can’t drive for shit. “You do realize that this is the very same location I pulled you over the other day, do you not, Ms. Malloy?”
She shoves her information at me and rolls her eyes. “How could I forget?”
“You’re aware that I could revoke your license as a repeat offender?” I inspect her ID, admiring the pretty smile on her face. She’s a friggin’ knockout when she’s not chewing my ass.
“You wouldn’t do that,” she sneers, her cherry lips turned up into the slightest of smiles. “Because then you’d have no one to harass.”
“Not harassing you, ma’am. Just doing my job. A job you secure a little more every time you disobey the traffic sign and turn right on red.”
With a soft snort, she crosses her arms over her chest and looks ahead, where the Vegas strip is just starting to wake up. Not that it ever really slept.
“All right, Ms. Malloy . . .” I hand her information back through the window, as my radio squawks in my ear. A DOA in a hotel room just down the block. “I’ll let you off with another warning just because I’ve got shit to do. You won’t be so lucky next time.”
“Don’t worry—there won’t be a next time.”
Yeah, there will. I’ll make sure of it. “Have a nice day, Ms. Malloy.”
“Fuck you, Trent.”
I laugh as she puts her little red Audi into drive and pulls away. Someone needs to teach that girl some manners.
Guess it’ll have to be me.
“You got pulled over again?” Jana’s mouth drops open behind the counter, where she preps the cash register for the day.
“I swear he has it out for me,” I grumble, still just as pissed now, as I was when I saw the cocky bastard step out of his SUV. Again. “Maybe I should talk to my dad.”
“And tell him what? You ran a red light?”
“I stopped!” I just went again when the coast was clear.
Jana smirks as I grab the mail from the basket and rifle through it, only half paying attention. I can’t stop seeing Sergeant Hardass approach my car, one long, arrogant step after the other. That dark hair whipping in the morning breeze. Those stupid aviator sunglasses making him look like an 80’s sitcom knock-off. Those big, muscled forearms that made me squirm in my seat, not once, but twice in the past week.
“I hate him,” I mutter, tucking the envelopes under one arm so I can carry my coffee and purse back to my office with the other. “He’s probably one of those guys with a big ego and a little dick.”
“Or he’s hung and he knows it.”
“So not helping, Jan.”
She laughs while I head to the back of the store, past the bins of panties and headless mannequins wearing this season’s latest in intimate apparel. “Tally should be here in an hour,” I call over my shoulder. “Let me know if she’s late.”
“Will do, boss lady.”
For the next twenty minutes, I submerge myself in the hundred or so unanswered emails in my inbox. It’s my usual morning routine, as the manager of Chloe’s Closet, one of Vegas’s high-end lingerie stores, and today it proves to be the perfect distraction from the shitty start to my day.
Until I see the email from my father.
You remember the PD ball is coming up, right? Would love for you to be my date.
Ugh. At every single PD event, he tries to marry me off to Will Vaccaro. Even when Will was engaged to someone else, the poor guy.
I close the message without responding, and move on. The next is from the Miracle Mile’s Head of Security.
Morning, Kins. Took a look at the s
urveillance from last week. We should talk.
Crap, I was afraid he’d say that.
Hitting his number on speed dial, I keep a close eye on my open door. Tipping off my employees is the last freaking thing I need today.
“Hey, Mick, it’s Kinsey. Whatchya got?”
The older man’s heavy, out-of-shape sigh crackles the line. “You’re not gonna like it, Toots.”
“I guessed as much. How bad?”
“It’s hard to say, but I’m almost positive she’s up to something. Either that, or she’s got early onset Alzheimer’s, because she’s in and out of the store at least three times every night at closing.”
Shit. “Is she taking anything with her?”
“Just her purse, but she’s gone enough between trips that it’s possible she’s emptying it out between trips.”
Like the trunk of her car, maybe. Where she’s set up her own bra and panty shop, because I can’t imagine why anyone would need as much lingerie as she’s taken if they weren’t selling it on the side.
“Get your cameras fixed, Kins. Then we’ll know for sure what’s going on.”
About that . . .”Can’t you look at them? You’re the security guru.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, but Ben’s the one who fixes things. You know that.”
Yes, but Ben Sully’s interest in fixing things ends at the end of the Miracle Mile. It does not, however, stretch to relationships or shitty sex. “Fine,” I sigh. “But he probably won’t call me back.”
“Come on, sweet cheeks, you’re as nice as pie. Who wouldn’t want to call you back?”
“My ex?”
“Minor technicality,” Mick chuckles. “Just let me know if he accidentally deletes your message. I’ll get on him.”
I roll my eyes and sip my coffee. “Thanks, Micky. Tell Margo I said hi.”
“Will do. Hey, you might want to call the PD, too. See what they have to say. I’m happy to share my footage if they want it.”
Ick. I respect my father’s profession, but I’d prefer to avoid the police. Especially when they pull me over for complete bullshit reasons. Also because Dad will try to throw his weight around and make me feel like a little girl in front of his men.
“We’ll see.” Blowing a kiss, I hang up. I’ve already run the numbers and the inventory doesn’t match up. Just like last week, and the week before. Heck, the last month. There’s only one common denominator, and Mick just confirmed she’s been acting suspicious on camera. Aside from catching her red handed—which I’d prefer not to do myself, given her hot temper—I only have two options . . .
Fix the freakin’ cameras or call the cops. Both are going to suck, but one might suck just a little less than the other, so I pick up the phone and dial.
“Not my job, man.” I shake my head and continue searching the DOA’s hotel room for anything out of the ordinary. It’s hard to say what that might be, however, considering the guy must’ve partied pretty hard before he went down. Empty bottles of booze are scattered across every surface, and I’ve already bagged four used condoms.
“This isn’t your job, either.” My buddy, Will, smirks. “Yet you’re digging in just fine.”
“I like this shit.”
“Hanging out with bloated bodies? You’re one sick fuck, Clark.”
I toss one of the sealed condom bags at him and he catches it in one hand, while flipping me off with the other. I grin. “I’m pretty sure Malloy told you to go, anyway, seeing as you’re his favorite and he’s betting on you calling him Pops someday.”
Will’s face turns as red as the blood-stained sheets beneath our vic. “Shut the fuck up.”
“What?” I laugh. “You pretty much have his blessing to date the princess, so why not?”
“Because it’s a fucking trap!” He shakes his head, and then makes a mocking face. “Go ahead, Detective. Ask her out. Then, for shits and giggles, I’ll track your ass down and neuter you like the dog you are.”
“She’s wearing a nice skirt today. Might be worth it.” I shrug and bag what looks like a wad of chewing tobacco. Might also be shit, but I’m hoping for the former.
“When the hell did you see her?”
“Pulled her over this morning.”
“Didn’t you just do that last week?”
“Yep.” I seal the bag and toss it over to one of the techs for labeling. “Apparently, she doesn’t think the law applies to her.”
“That or you’re a prick.”
Well, that would be shocking, wouldn’t it? Me . . . a prick. I sure as hell didn’t get where I am being Mr. Fucking Nice Guy. “If the shoe fits.”
Will shakes his head and checks his watch. “I told Captain we’d head over to the Mile right away. It’s been four minutes. He’s probably written both of us up by now.”
“Better get your ass moving then.” I’ve had enough of Kinsey Malloy and her my-shit-don’t-stink attitude for one day.
“Hey, Will, you worked the Flamingo DOA last week, didn’t you?” one of the other detectives calls from beside the body. “You wanna come check this out?”
My buddy flashes a grin. “Guess the princess is all yours.”
Fucking bastard.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I blink at the man who enters the coffee shop on the other side of the Miracle Mile, where hopefully none of my employees spots me talking to the police. Or in this case, Sergeant Hardass.
“I friggin’ wish,” he grumbles, and drops into the chair across from me with a huff. “Apparently, I’m a jack of all trades today.”
“You mean, jackass of all trades, don’t you?” I watch him carefully as he pulls off the sunglasses and runs a hand through his hair. Damn, those blue eyes are nice without the shades.
“Funny lady.” Waving over the waitress, he orders a tall Americano with a double shot. “Didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”
“Oh, I’m hella funny. When I’m not being targeted by a cop who obviously has nothing better to do with his time.”
He swings those intense eyes back to me, one eyebrow arched. “I’ll have you know I just left a major crime scene.”
“You’re not supposed to tell me that. It’s a breach of confidentiality.”
He grunts. “Like you count.”
“Damn right I count. In fact, right now, I’m a concerned citizen with a potential criminal complaint. Shouldn’t you be treating me a little better?”
“You know,” he begins, leaning those thick, muscled arms on the table between us. “I seem to recall a certain citizen telling me to fuck off this morning.”
Yeah, well, he deserved it. “What’s your point?”
“This respect thing goes both ways, princess.”
“Princess?” I smirk. It’s my dad’s pet name for me; unfortunately every guy in the Metro has caught on. “Don’t let my daddy hear you say that.”
Those baby blues glaze over with something I can’t quite put my finger on before his mouth curls up into a lopsided smile. He’s one of those men with a lush bottom lip that most women would kill for. The long eyelashes, too. Bastard. “How about we just cut to the chase and you tell me what you called the PD for.”
“I think someone’s stealing from the store.”
“Oh, shit. A panty pilferer. Call the fucking FBI.”
My face goes instantly hot and suddenly calling my ex-boyfriend seems a lot more appealing. “Fuck you, Trent,” I say for the second time today, as I grab my coffee and inventory-tracking folder he’s apparently not interested in looking at.
“Come on, Kinsey, I’m just giving you shit.”
Yeah, well, screw that. I’ll take care of this problem by myself, just like I do everything else.
“YOU BRINGING A DATE TO the shindig this weekend?” Dez asks, as I push my last two-fifty toward his ready hands.
“Fuck, no,” I grunt, but not because of the exertion. “You know I don’t do black tie.” Or dates, for that matter.
He shakes his head an
d helps me put the bar back on the rails. “Captain’s gonna have your ass, missing the ball three years in a row.”
Like I give a shit. I joined the PD to kick ass and keep assholes off the streets, not to fucking waltz. “Oh, well,” I say, curling upright and brushing off my hands. “Won’t be the first time, and surely won’t be the last.”
“How’d the interview with the princess go yesterday?” Will saunters over and drops to the bench when I get up.
“Like shit.” The woman’s either got a serious stick up her ass or she’s never been fucked properly. If I had my guess, I’d say she suffers from a little of both. “She flipped out on me like she always does.”
“Well, quit pulling her over then,” Dez chuckles, and I grin.
“Not my fault she can’t follow the law.”
Will smirks as he powders his hands. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a thing for Miss Thang, Clark.”
Fuck that shit. I like the mouths on my women to be doing something other than bitching. “Nah, man, she’s all yours.”
Dez snickers at the head of the bench. “I heard she’s the captain’s date this weekend. Maybe you’ll get lucky and score a dance, man.”
Will’s face turns red before he even touches the bar. “You guys know that shit ain’t funny.”
“Oh, but it is.” Will’s not a saint by any means, but he’s the best option the captain’s got for his little girl. The only one of us who’s ever even tried a serious relationship. “In fact, maybe you should just give it up already. Take her out. Hell, buy the damn ring.”
Dez’s eyes go wide as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I don’t care. Maybe twisting the knife that’s still stuck in my buddy’s side is what he needs. Coddling his sorry ass sure hasn’t helped.
Will’s hands ball into fists at his sides, then he rolls upright with a venomous scowl. “You know what? Fuck you, Clark. At least I tried with a woman.”
I snort. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Because I’m perfectly happy just the way things are.” Free and easy. Not a commitment in sight.
Bend ~ Molly McLain Page 1