Crushing on the Cop (Blue Collar Brothers Book 2)

by Piper Rayne

  Mauro and I laugh, but Luca’s face pales.

  When we’re done laughing, Mauro leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pins me with a serious stare. “Listen, Cris. I know you have a savior complex and that’s why you agreed to lunch. Maddie hasn’t told me much about Vanessa and I’m no cop, but I can read between lines. Controlling dad, lost her mother, I don’t even know what she does for money. I just think that if you continue down this road, the chances of you getting hurt are at about one hundred and fifty percent.”

  Footsteps sound through the thin floorboards above us as our aunts and uncles arrive, which means the meal will be ready soon.

  “You guys are making too big a deal of it. I can handle myself. Thanks for looking out for me guys.” I prepare to push up from the chair.

  “Push that savior complex into the depths of darkness and go find Betty Crocker’s daughter.”

  I stand and head up the stairs, ignoring Luca. Just when I thought no one understood me more than my brothers.

  Once I’m upstairs, I wind through the family members speaking Italian, grabbing me for hugs and kisses until I find Ma in the dining room. She’s sitting at the table, cutting a loaf of bread.

  “Ma?” I ask, glancing at the kitchen door I’m so used to seeing her on the other side of.

  “They make me come out here.” She finishes cutting one loaf and moves on to the other.

  I peek through the door to the kitchen, the steam and heat hitting me in the face.

  Maddie, Lauren, and Vanessa are folding the ravioli as my aunt brings them the rolled out dough. Lauren doesn’t seem really into it, she’s spending more time talking to Vanessa than anything. Vanessa’s eyes find mine in the doorway, but she doesn’t smile. I know she doesn’t want to be here, but that she felt obligated.

  Shutting the door to the kitchen, I sit down next to Ma and hold my hand out for the knife.

  “Don’t you take my last job.” She points at me with the sharp end of the knife.

  I raise my hands in a placating way and let her continue.

  “I like her,” she says, concentrating on the bread.

  “Yeah, Ma. We all know you like Maddie.”

  She places the knife down and pats my hand. “No, the blonde. She’s not Italian, but neither is Maddie.” She leans closer, lowering her voice. “I think Lauren might be Methodist.”

  I lay my hand over hers. “Vanessa is just a friend.”

  A soft smile lands on her lips and she’s about to say something when my aunt and uncle start bringing in the food.

  “I’m starving,” Luca says, coming into the dining room with Mauro, who instantly finds Maddie. They’re like two magnets.

  Luca sits down at the table waiting to be served like the king he thinks he is.

  “The girls made the ravioli.” My aunt holds the plate out.

  “Put them in front of Luca. He’s been dying for some meat-filled packaged pasta.” I slap him on the shoulder on the way to the kitchen to help bring in the food.

  Luca gets up and runs to the bathroom.

  “Is he sick?” Ma asks.

  “Nah, he’ll be fine.”

  My aunt goes to remove the plate of ravioli, but Mauro stops her. “Oh no, leave them. He’ll be right back.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vanessa

  Talk about mortifying.

  He denied me.

  Cristian insisted on driving me home because Lauren had an emergency and it was so dire she agreed to let Luca take her. So I know she wasn’t pushing me to go with Cristian because Lauren would rather lose a limb than get in a car with Luca.

  So here I am in his car on the way to my house after a family dinner where I dodged his gaze the entire meal. I sat between Maddie and Uncle Mikey who I think may have been trying to peek down the front of my shirt the entire meal.

  “Thanks again for the ride,” I say.

  Cristian turns down my street and if it wouldn’t be noticeable, I’d unclick my seatbelt and have my hand on the handle to flee this car the minute he rolls to a stop. But Cristian notices everything. So much so that he distracted his uncle Mikey most of the meal after he saw me turn more toward Maddie. Still, I couldn’t look at him.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Silence blankets the car once more and I count the seconds until this ride ends.

  He stops in front of the house, and I see our neighbors outside in their small fenced-off front area, while the little girl rides her bike up and down the street.

  “Well, see you around.” I open the car door, but Cristian’s hand lands on my one closest to him.

  I close my eyes because I knew he wouldn’t make this easy on me.

  “Hold up.”

  I lean back against my seat but leave the door open a crack with one foot out to let him know I’m ready.

  “For the race this weekend. Do you want a trainer? I work days but I’m off at three or four so I can swing by in the evening. I know it’s only a week, but I’m sure we can get you to run at least half of it.”

  It’s times like this I wish I wasn’t so messed up. Cristian is one of a kind and if I let myself, I could probably get attached. But the truth is that it would never last once he found out what I did to get the money to start my clothing company it would shatter any foundation we had built.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’m sure my dad will run with Vicki and I’ll just walk.”

  He blows out a breath and runs his fingers through his hair.

  “I’m letting you off the hook. You should be happy,” I snip.

  This is another one of my faults—I can be a little bitchy when I’m mad at myself and project that anger outward.

  “I’m trying to be nice. Maybe I don’t want to be let off the hook.” For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s raising his voice.

  “I’m not sure what you expect, Cristian. You’re the one who stopped me.” I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Because you were trying to get me to fuck you just to forget your dad was married. I don’t play that way, Vanessa.”

  My hand squeezes tighter around the door handle. “You had no problem at your apartment.”

  “That was different. Unless you were using me then, too?”

  “We were using each other.” I shut the door because I don’t want the neighbor’s daughter to hear us arguing. Especially about sex.

  “I wasn’t using you. Damn it! I thought I could do it, but I can’t. Fuck it.” The cool and calm demeanor he always has on display crumbles in front of my eyes. “I thought I could be someone I’m not, but I can’t.”

  “What are you talking about?” I have no clue what he’s even talking about.

  “You. Me. Sex. I can’t do it without strings. Yeah, yeah, I get it okay? You’re not looking for anyone serious. My brothers were fucking right.” His hands grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

  My shoulders drop as guilt settles in.

  He is the man I thought he was.

  “Cristian,” I begin, but he shakes his head.

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I just…it’s me. I’m a mess,” I say softly. “I’m not girlfriend material. I’m not even steady hook-up material.”

  He turns his head slowly in my direction, his gaze veering over to our neighbors. Reed and Victoria are watching Jade ride her bike, both of them laughing as they try to throw candy corn into each other’s mouths. I’d be lying if I said my heartstrings didn’t tug a little, yearning for what they have.

  “Okay,” he says, letting my words hang in the air. He doesn’t try to refute them like men before him have tried. “Just so you know.” He returns his gaze to me and there’s a hardness I haven’t seen there before. “You can be whoever you want to be. I get that you’ve had a rough past and I suspect a rough go after college, but if you keep pushing people who want to help you away, sooner or later they’ll stop offering.”

  His words are served cold and I suspect he
meant them to be profound, but all they do is piss me off.

  Who is he other than my best friend’s boyfriend’s brother and some guy I slept with? Him and his opinion of me doesn’t mean anything.

  You’re lying to yourself.

  I owe him nothing and for him to sit here and judge me?

  Whatever. Screw him.

  “Nice talk. See you later.” I step out of the car, slamming the door behind me.

  It hurts a little when he drives away without knowing if I got into the house okay. How can we have a fight when we’re not even a couple?

  “Hey, Vanessa,” Jade says, squealing to a stop in front of me on her bike.

  “Hey, Jade.”

  “Is that your boyfriend?” she asks.

  I pat her on the helmet. “You’re too wise for your years, but he was just a friend.” I stop and think. “Or was a friend.”

  “Oh, you’ll be fine. Henry and I got in a fight the other day because he said that only him and Reed could GP to the Bears game. He said it was a boy thing. I told him there is no boy thing or girl thing.” Her little hands fall to her hips as she straddles her bike.

  “You guys made up though?” I ask with a small smile.

  “Yeah, he brought me home a Bears sweatshirt and apologized.” She leans in closer. “I think Reed made him do it.”

  I look up to find Reed and Victoria watching our interaction. They each wave and say hello and I return the gesture.

  “Sounds like Reed and Henry are good guys, huh?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, Reed says the good guys get bad raps because women always want a man they can change. But he said nice guys have secrets, too.”

  I laugh at her wisdom from her stepdad or soon to be stepdad? I’m not even sure.

  “Yeah, nice guys shouldn’t always finish last,” I say.

  My own words crack the granite shell I’ve surrounded myself in practically my whole life.

  Is that why I’m so eager to compartmentalize Cristian? I’m afraid he’ll crack that protective layer?

  Shit. Why am I always the last one to realize these things?

  It doesn’t matter though because me and Cristian are exactly where we should be—apart from one another.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cristian

  Having a night to debate what transpired in my car last night with Vanessa sucks ass. Being at the district when her dad is only steps away makes it worse even.

  The small voice that’s not ruled by my dick in the far back of my brain says I did the right thing. That a girl like Vanessa isn’t scouring Pinterest for the latest pumpkin spice recipes to bake. She buys them because she likes everything in her life to be easy and foolproof. Guaranteed results. That way her feelings don’t get involved.

  Going to college for criminal justice, I had my fair share of psychology classes. It helps me figure out a scene before anyone opens their mouth. I’ve been trained to see deception in the smallest of traits, and it’s a hell of a lot more than gaze aversion and fidgeting. The longer you’re on the force, the easier it becomes.

  I’m six years in so I don’t have the expertise, as let’s say, Vanessa’s dad does. So that leaves the question of how he can’t see the signs that his own daughter’s wound of losing her mother is now being transferred into her love life.

  I guess that’s what you don’t learn in the academy—family ties negate all training. Sure, your partner will spot it, but you’re like a blindfolded magician’s assistant. Deep down you know it’s impossible, but the magician is so fucking good even you get fooled by their trickery.

  That’s Commander John Flanagan right now. He’s blind to his daughter’s pain.

  “Finished Bianco?” Jericho sits down at the desk across from me, putting his feet up and chomping down on a microwaveable burrito.

  Bachelor.

  “I would’ve been done a helluva lot sooner if you wouldn’t have bothered to flirt with Klein. How many times does she have to tell you she doesn’t sleep with people she works with?” I sign my name on the report.

  “First of all”—his feet fall to the floor and he slides his chair up to the desk— “she’s playing hard to get. Second, it’s not like I’m her partner or her superior or anything. She works a different shift than me and everything.” He takes another big bite of the burrito that I suspect is only a snack before he goes to dinner.

  Jericho’s been my partner since I graduated from the academy. He’s got quirks and enough annoying habits to ensure he’ll be single forever. Hell, he ruined his opportunity with a professional skier last year. Who does that? But, he’s had my back more than once and whether I like him as a person or not doesn’t matter. All that I care about is that I can trust him with my life.

  Oh and he sucks at the paperwork. It’s like my partner is Luca 2.0 with a shit-ton of viruses.

  “Commander’s going to be up your ass if she files a report,” I say.

  He swallows the last of his burrito like a human garbage disposal. The smile on his face holds his usual arrogance. “She won’t because she secretly wants me.”

  “And now you sound like the guys we arrest.” I stand up with the paperwork in hand to take to the supervisor.

  “Speaking of the Commander, I heard a rumor,” he sing-songs as he walks behind me.

  All shift and not one word. A police station really is like a high school hallway.

  “That Klein would rather eat ten of those burritos before going on a date with you?”

  I place the report in our supervisor’s bin. Jericho rests his hip against the desk. “That you’re tapping the hot piece of ass that is the Supe’s daughter.” He punches me in the shoulder. “You sneaky devil. How did you get her because she’s way out of your league.”

  “I tapped nothing.”

  “Come on. You finally went on the date from the bachelor auction, didn’t you? I can’t say I’m not hurt.” He places his hand over his heart and throws his head back. “We’ve been together for eight hours in a damn car and you’ve been holding out on me.”

  As though I’d ever tell him about my sex life. He does it enough for both of us.

  I look around because the last thing I need is Vanessa calling me up with the riot act.

  “The date sucked. That’s why I didn’t mention it,” I say in a low voice.

  “Fuck you. I heard you were at lunch with Johnny, his new chick, and that hot piece of ass yesterday.”

  “Where do you hear this shit?” I head right into the locker room to get changed. Then I’ll go home and try not to remember fucking Vanessa as I lay in bed.

  Jericho follows me. Of course he does.

  Gregory and Nichols come in from their shift, probably to write their own report. They each flash me the look. The look that suggests I nailed the Commander’s daughter.

  “What’s up dick wads?” Jericho asks, smacking each one of them on the shoulder. He’s known for his fourteen-year-old teenage boy vocabulary. Another reason I do the reports. Stops them from being sent back to us for corrections.

  “Heard something about you, Bianco,” Nichols says stifling a laugh.

  “You heard wrong.”

  My phone rings in my pocket. Luca’s name flashes across the screen when I pull it out.

  “What’s up?” I answer.

  “It’s Ma. We’re on the way to the hospital. She passed out.” The sound of sirens roar behind his voice.

  “What?” I rush over to my locker, grab my shit, and forget about my street clothes. “What hospital?”

  “Mercy. Fuck Cris, she’s pale and her heart isn’t in rhythm. I’m such a shitty son, I should’ve known.” Luca’s panicked voice isn’t helping me stay calm.

  Just as I have everything shoved into my bag, Shirley, a dispatcher, steps up outside the locker room door. “Cristian,” she calls out. Her sweet face is riddled with concern.

  I nod that I’ve heard. She obviously got the call with names and most people know my parents live in the ar
ea. I mean, Ma stops by with trays of food from The Sandwich Shop, so they all know her around here. Last year when there were a lot of robberies happening in their area, I asked patrol cars to make that street a regular on their pattern.

  “Calm down, Luca. Let’s just see what’s going on. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay, they’re calling in a replacement for me.”

  “Good. I’ll let everyone know I have to go, too.”

  I click off the phone knowing Luca won’t call Mauro.

  He was going to propose to Maddie this week and I pray he picked a better day than today.

  “Your mom?” Jericho strips out of his pants and puts on his jeans. Never mind the fact that Shirley is still standing in the doorway. Jericho would streak across the field during the Super Bowl in a casual stride, stopping in the middle to do The Floss.

  “Yeah, they’re sending her to Mercy.”

  My gaze finds Shirley’s. “Another ambulance was going and Luca tried to take the call. He got there before them and treated her. She’s responsive and the ambulance says vitals are picking back up.”

  “Good. Thanks, Shirley.”

  “Anytime Cristian. Please tell her we’re thinking of her.”

  “I will.”

  Jericho slams his locker. “I’ll drive you.” He slings his backpack over his shoulder.

  “I got it, but thanks.”

  “I’ll drive you.” This time his tone is insistent and I don’t argue as we walk out of the station and I slide into the passenger seat of his ’69 Camaro. I’m sure you can imagine why he picked a ’69.

  I swear, all in all, he really is a stand-up guy.

  I walk into the emergency room often when I’m on shift, but I don’t remember the last time I had to for personal reasons.

  Luca pushes off the nurse’s desk when he sees us enter. He’ll sweet talk his way into the operating room if need be.

  “They’re saying shit.” He fist bumps Jericho. “What’s up, man?”

  My dad comes up to me, hugging me to his body for a solid minute. Whoever said real men aren’t emotional never met my father. He wears his emotions for everyone to see, but we still fear him like he’s Capone’s twin.