Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  “So that’s the key, wearing boring colors?” Cassie tried another lug nut, and again had no success.

  “I don’t think there’s any color you could wear that would make a difference. You’ll attract attention no matter what you’ve got on.”

  She glanced at him, again wondering whether that was a compliment or an insult. What she wound up noting most was the effortless ease and competence about him. With his starched navy blue uniform outlining his incredible physique and that gun strapped to his side, he was as intimidating as a cop should be. A poster boy for the NYPD. So how did a guy like him end up in a quiet place like Hopewell Springs? And where did he get that doggone confident sexuality? The man wore it like a second skin.

  “You know,” he said, “if you let me help I could save you some time and you wouldn’t risk breaking a nail. I am here to protect and serve.”

  Cassie dropped the wrench and it clattered onto the hot road. She choked down the urge to flip Mike off and shoot back, “Yeah, service this.” Instead, she straightened stiffly and answered in a civil tone, “Like I said, no thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” Mike hooked one of his hands on his duty belt and leaned against the Trail Blazer, sporting an irritating, masculine smirk on his way-too-handsome face.

  Cassie snatched up the wrench, fitted it onto the topmost nut, and yanked with all her might. She felt something give.

  Finally. Nope. Oh, shit. The nut hadn’t given way.

  She had.

  Her sweaty hands slipped off the wrench handle, and she felt herself flying backward. When she expected her ass to hit the pavement, a pair of strong arms slid around her bared waist, catching her in midair.

  Mike turned her in his arms but didn’t release her. She clung to his forearms for balance. When she looked up, their faces were close together and Mike’s warm breath blew across her forehead. Why does the man have to smell so freaking good all the time? Her throat constricted, and she swallowed.

  Raven’s nails clicked on the pavement as she bounded to where they stood. Cassie expected the dog to interpret Mike’s nearness as an attack and launch straight at his chest. She didn’t. Her K-9 was merely curious and sat dutifully beside her.

  “You okay?” He gave her a look of concern.

  The air around them seemed to spark and sizzle. Every place his fingers touched on her bared waist skittered with goose bumps. She’d thought him handsome before, but… Oh, man. He had about as perfectly chiseled a profile as she’d ever seen. All hard, masculine angles, planes, and tantalizing shadows.

  “Uh, fine. Good catch, Chief. Thanks.” Her breathy voice didn’t sound like her own, dammit. God only knew how long it had been since she’d reacted to a man this intensely.

  Try never.

  “My pleasure,” he said, backing away. The suggestive tone of his voice and the hot way he looked at her made her heart dance like sizzling bacon on a hot skillet.

  Several young boys on bicycles raced along the road, laughing and waving as they flew by. He smiled and waved in return. It really did seem like every kid in town liked the guy.

  Without asking, Mike picked up the lug wrench and with one yank, the nut gave way with an ear-splitting screech. He made embarrassingly quick work of unscrewing the remaining nuts.

  The heat rising in her face had nothing to do with the blazing sun. She wasn’t helpless, she was a New York City detective, for Christ’s sake. So it was a little hard getting the lug nuts off. She could change a tire.

  Annoyance turned to fascination as a light sheen of sweat covered Mike’s forearms, making them glisten in the blazing sunlight. As he maneuvered the jack beneath the car, the muscles in his arms rippled and bunched, making Cassie want to run her fingertips over the hard ridges. The guy could have been a cover model. On second thought, he was too raw and too much man. Everything tempting and everything she should stay away from.

  He gave her a sideways look as he cranked the jack. “So how long you figure on staying in town?”

  Mike eased the flat tire off the wheel hub and rolled it to the back of the Trail Blazer. He lifted out the spare, carrying it effortlessly, then shoved it onto the lug screws.

  “Don’t know.” She watched as he screwed on the nuts. “Maybe ’til you get sick of my chili.”

  He gave her that damned grin of his she was actually coming to like. “Then you’ll be here a helluva long time.”

  Cassie couldn’t stop herself and smiled. “Don’t count on it, sailor.”

  “Got any family?” Mike cranked the jack to lower the SUV to the pavement, then tightened the nuts with the wrench.

  “Some.” She frowned. Mike’s questions were innocuous enough, but to an undercover cop who’d spent years perfecting the art of subtle questioning, she saw it for precisely what it was. An interrogation. The man knew darned well something was off about her being in this town, and he was bound and determined to find out what. He was too smart for her own good. Keeping her distance was the only way to avoid another inquisition.

  “You sure ask a lot of questions,” she said, trying to inject a note of humor in her voice.

  “You don’t answer them.”

  “Maybe I’m shy.”

  Mike had been about to pick up her flat tire but stood and shook his head. His broad shoulders blocked out the sun, casting a large shadow over her. “Lady, there’s not a shy bone in your body.”

  Cassie pursed her lips. “Why is it you think you know me so well?”

  He chucked her under her chin with one of his long fingers. “Sweetheart, I may not know where you’re from or what you’re doing here, but you and I both know you’re hiding from something. Or someone.”

  For a second, she stopped breathing. Way too close to the truth for comfort. “I am not—”

  “I’m not finished.” Mike gripped her chin lightly but firmly between his thumb and forefinger. The cool, unyielding face of a street-hardened cop stared down at her. His voice took on a distinct edge. “If you’re involved with anything illegal, I suggest you walk away from this town now and never look back.”

  “I am not involved in anything illegal.” She jerked her chin from his hand. “And where do you get off accusing me of that? You don’t know a thing about me.”

  “And you refuse to enlighten me.”

  Much as she wanted to slap him, Cassie realized he was only doing his job, protecting the residents of Hopewell Springs. And he was right about her. Even if he was wrong. His instincts were too freaking perfect.

  Mike glanced her way. “Ever been arrested?”

  Cassie stopped breathing. It had only been a couple of weeks since Dom cuffed her behind the bar at La Femme, but for that job she’d used a different undercover name. Seven months earlier, Cassandra Younger—the name she went by now, in Hopewell Springs—had been picked up by the uniforms as part of an undercover burglary gig. And three months before that, Cassie Younger had been arrested in connection with a scumbag drug dealer selling controlled substances to high school students. As far as she knew, both those old arrests were still in NYSPIN and NCIC, the state and national criminal history databases.

  “I promise you, I’ve never done anything illegal in my life.” Her real life, that was. “And I would never do anything to hurt anyone in this town.”

  “Hope so. If there’s one thing I don’t tolerate, it’s a liar.” Mike watched her for what seemed like an eternity.

  “I am not lying.” Well, kind of. “And I’m not a criminal.” That, at least, was the truth.

  He nodded slightly, as if accepting her answer, then picked up the flat tire as if it were no heavier than a paperweight. He heaved it inside the back of her Trail Blazer then turned so abruptly he practically slammed into her. His hands grasped her shoulders. Hers grasped his waist.

  The next thing Cassie felt were his hands sliding down her arms…

  His lips on hers.

  Chapter Six

  A deep, primal, tingling sensation erupted low in Cassie’s
belly. Currents, warm and wonderful, snaked up and down her torso, encircling her neck and shoulders. Then the worst thing imaginable happened.

  Her legs wobbled.

  Oh, no. Please, God, no.

  Mom always said that when a man makes you go weak in the knees, he’s the one.

  Mike’s lips were warm on hers, his breath fanning her face. His delicious scent invaded her every pore. Something hard pressed against her belly, but she couldn’t tell if it was Mike’s arousal or one of the dozen pieces of police-issued hardware on his duty belt.

  As his lips feathered hers, he slipped one hand into her hair, pulling it out of the hair band. Despite the overpowering way he had her pinned, his touch was gentle, caressing. When he lifted his gaze to hers, it was hungry. He pulled her closer, her nipples hardening on contact with his chest.

  She willingly melted into his arms, sliding her hands up his chest to link them around his neck. The kiss grew hotter, frantic. He took, she gave. He moaned, a hoarse, sexy sound that sent chills up and down her spine. All Cassie’s inhibitions about Mike being a cop faded into oblivion.

  For several minutes, he slanted his lips across her mouth at every possible angle, tasting, caressing with erotic swipes of his tongue. Cassie kneaded the corded muscles of Mike’s neck, loving the way they rippled beneath her fingertips. She wanted to rip off his shirt and tear that thick Kevlar vest off him to get to his bare chest.

  Very large, very warm hands slid beneath her shirt and across her bare back. A moment later, his hands were cupping her now-tender, aching breasts. She arched into his hands as he trailed his lips down her cheek to her jaw. Everywhere his hot mouth touched her trembling skin, she burned.

  Through the fabric of her running bra, he flicked at her nipples, driving them to hardened peaks until she thought she’d die from need.

  Mike lowered his mouth to her neck, then lower still, dropping light kisses on the curves of her breasts above the low neckline of her shirt. He fastened his mouth on one of her nipples, sucking hungrily at the fabric covering her super-sensitized breasts. She moaned and pulled him tighter to her. He bit and nipped until she was ready to scream. God, but she wanted his mouth and tongue on her bare breasts. She inhaled breath after ragged breath as he alternately laved both her nipples with his tongue and teeth, massaging her breasts, squeezing them gently.

  With his knee, Mike parted her legs and hauled her against his upper thigh. His impressive erection pressed against her hip, undeniable proof he was as aroused as she was. He took her mouth again in another heated kiss, wild with so much unbridled urgency her belly quivered.

  If this was how the man kissed…

  In the distance, a car horn blared.

  With a groan, Mike released her, pulling away until there was a good two feet between them.

  He stared at her hungrily, taking deep breaths. She, too, could barely breathe. Her pulse continued hammering away, nearly drowning out a car as it rounded the bend and drove past them.

  Cassie licked her lips, tasting him, smelling him all around her, willing him to reach out and kiss her again. But it was obvious from the look on his face that touching her now was the last thing on his mind.

  Dark brows drew together, blue eyes flashing with something akin to anger. Mike took another step back, clearing his throat and dragging his hand down his face. But not before lowering his gaze to where Cassie was certain her shirt was damp from where his mouth and tongue had ravaged her nipples.

  “You should go.” His tone was curt.

  Cassie widened her eyes. What the hell? He might as well have slapped her. One minute the man aroused her with passion she didn’t know existed, and the next he treated her as if she had the plague. Gritting her teeth, it was all she could do not to belt him a good one. Fury spiked her blood with more adrenaline than a quadruple shot of espresso.

  “Do you really think you can grope and manhandle me, then discard me like a tramp two seconds later?” And make me start to feel something for you. “If I could spit nails through your body armor, I’d gladly swallow a whole box.”

  Mike regarded her with about the same interest he’d give a piece of lint. Here she was a veritable ball of unchained, revved-up nerve endings and he stood there all cool and unaffected. It took every ounce of restraint not to burst into tears. She’d lowered her defenses and look where it had gotten her. Clearly her lust, or feelings, or whatever it was, was one-sided.

  Fine. If he can turn it off, so can I.

  Bastard.

  …

  “Just when I was beginning to think you were different, you go and reaffirm my belief you’re nothing but a pig-headed, badge-heavy, chauvinistic cop.” With a disgusted huff, Cassie crossed her arms over her chest.

  Shit. I really am a shit.

  Mike tilted his head back a moment and blew out a breath before meeting Cassie’s icy glare.

  “Cassie, I—” Am scared shitless of letting you in, he wanted to say, but didn’t. Couldn’t.

  The pained, angry look in her eyes tugged at his heart, making him feel every bit the asshole he was. He had nothing to blame but his own stupid, Neanderthal libido. And my own fears.

  Cassie clamped her jaws tight and turned her back to him.

  “C’mon, Raven. We’re outta here.”

  She pointed to the Trail Blazer and Raven shot into the back of the SUV. Cassie slammed the rear door shut and stormed to the driver’s side. After getting in, she slammed that door shut as well.

  The engine started, but before she put the truck in gear, Mike hustled to the open window and rested his forearms on the ledge. As she rammed a pair of dark sunglasses on, he glimpsed the hint of tears glistening in her eyes.

  You did that, you dumbass.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, trying like hell to put every ounce of the sincere regret he felt into his words. “I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry. It was…unprofessional.”

  Cassie’s hands shook slightly where they gripped the steering wheel.

  “Forget it,” she said tightly. “I won’t tell your girlfriend.”

  He smiled. “Don’t have one of those.”

  Above the dark sunglasses, Cassie’s brow lifted. “Sure you don’t.”

  Sensing she was about to put the pedal to the metal, Mike lifted his arms from the window. Sure enough, the Trail Blazer shot off down the road toward town.

  Mike watched her, shaking his head, amazed at what a jerk he could still be.

  It must have been the feel of her soft skin that had gotten his blood boiling. Or her soft, full breasts fitting so perfectly in his hands. Kissing her had been his final mistake, turning his brain to mud. If that car horn hadn’t blasted some common sense into his muddy, drugged-out brain, he would have gone horizontal with her right there on a public road! Damn, he never should have touched her.

  But he couldn’t help himself.

  Mike headed back to his Explorer and started the engine, cranking the AC to the max. He was sweating like a pig, but he honestly didn’t know if it was due to the outside temperature or the way Cassie twisted him into knots.

  Yeah, he’d definitely hurt her, but he’d needed space or he would have given in to a woman he knew virtually nothing about. He still couldn’t go there, and he suspected it would take a miracle to get him to open up to a woman again. The thought of getting stomped into the mud again was enough to make his chest go tight.

  Major sexual attraction aside, Cassie struck him as a woman who could take care of herself, and he admired that. Even if she couldn’t admit she needed his help changing a flat.

  He’d pissed her off good, particularly his crack about breaking a nail. He could see it in the way her eyes blazed, hot enough to burn off his nuts. While she’d been struggling with the lug wrench it had been all he could do not to stare at her shapely toned body, especially that incredible ass beneath those skin-tight hot pink shorts.

  Mike ran his fingers over his stubbly chin.

  Stupid, Flannery.
Real stupid.

  Despite his concerns, Mike unexpectedly found his gut tightening at the thought of Cassie getting hurt. Truth was, he’d been scared by how close she’d come to getting killed, and that bothered him on a personal level. Why that was, he couldn’t fathom.

  Maybe she was running away from an ex-boyfriend or husband.

  Cassie married?

  If an estranged husband tracked her to Hopewell Springs, things could get ugly. He knew firsthand how quickly domestic squabbles could turn deadly.

  He slowed the Explorer, waving to a father and son walking on the shoulder and carrying fishing poles. As he drove past, Mike wondered if he’d ever have children of his own. Oddly, that question brought his thoughts back to Cassie. He still couldn’t get the image of her holding that baby in the Nest out of his head.

  Don’t even think it, bonehead. Not with a woman hiding something. Been there, done that. Got severely raked over the coals.

  Yet as he gunned the Explorer back toward town, the more-than-memorable vision of Cassie’s spectacular ass in those sinfully tight running shorts invaded his brain.

  And stayed there.

  Chapter Seven

  Two days had passed since her hot encounter with Mike on the road outside of town, and between plating orders of butternut squash risotto with braised beef, Cassie busied her mind by making a mental inventory arguing both sides of the burning question: could the hit man really figure out where she was hiding, or was she overreacting?

  She was certain she hadn’t been followed upstate, she was too good for that and would have easily spotted a tail. She was equally certain she hadn’t divulged her location in a call to either Dom’s or Gray’s bugged desk phone. But could someone have overheard an in-person conversation at the precinct?

  With a potential leak inside the department, anything was possible. She needed to be extra vigilant and keep her head low.

  That meant maintaining a safe distance from the suspicious and irritating chief of police.

  Mike hadn’t been to the Nest once since helping her change the flat and that suited her fine. He’d made her feel used. Worse, her lack of self-control when he’d touched her was downright frightening, and she didn’t need that right now.