by Avery Flynn
“Her house.” Not that he’d call it sleeping. It was more like staring up at the ceiling and imagining what she was doing alone in her bed while that damn couch spring did its best to cripple him.
“But you’re not living with her,” Fallon said, accepting a tower of bowls from Finian. “It’s just an extended pajama party?”
His brother snort-laughed. “Doubtful there are any PJs involved.”
“Shut up, Finian.”
“Boys,” his mom said in that voice that said cut the shit now. “So, help me understand what’s going on, because she seems lovely and she’s an Ice Knights fan.”
“It’s complicated.” Figuring out world peace would be easier than finding a way out of the mess he’d made for himself. “It’s work.”
“Just work?” she asked.
He nodded as he snagged a bunch of paper towels from the counter and started to sop up the lake of gravy Felicia’s practically feral cat had knocked over. “Yes.”
“So, the fact that the room crackles when you two are in it?” Fallon asked as she closed the fully loaded dishwasher.
He rolled his eyes at his sister. “That’s not scientifically possible.”
“Oh Ford,” his mom said, taking the gravy-soaked paper towels from him and dropping them into the trash can under the sink. “Denial is more than a river in Egypt.”
She wasn’t wrong. Then again, Kate Hartigan rarely was—and if you asked her, she’d say she never was. And he no idea what to do with that, because falling for Gina Luca wasn’t something that fell under any heading in his book of personal rules and regulations.
“Am I interrupting?” Gina asked from the kitchen doorway.
All the frustration and confusion swirling around inside him settled as soon as he looked at her.
“Not at all, honey,” his mom said. “What can I get for you?”
“Actually, I just got a text from Juan that the special order to fix the wonky stair is in, but he can’t pick it up before they close.” She held up her phone. “Do you think we can swing by on the way back home and get it? I told Juan that you said you’d agreed to fix the step so he could tackle something more pressing on his list, like the front porch.”
“Not a problem,” he said, more than ready to get back to the Victorian with its creaks and leaky faucets and—most importantly—her alone.
“Great.” She flashed that smile at him, the one that did funny things to his breathing. “I’ll just go tell your dad goodbye.”
She ducked out and every eyeball in the room except for the ones in his own head zeroed in on him.
“Go home, huh?” Finian asked, picking up on the one thing Ford had been hoping his family would miss. “That’s what you boys in blue call work? Maybe I did pick the wrong line of work.”
After flipping his brother off—behind his mom’s back, of course—Ford issued his goodbyes as Gina came back into the kitchen and did the same with his mom and siblings. It was strange to watch. The other women he’d brought home had all been more than a little freaked out by the crazy that was the Hartigans, but Gina had taken it all in stride. Next time, she’d be yelling at the TV during the hockey game like the rest of them.
Next time, Hartigan?
Where in the hell had that come from? There wouldn’t be a next time. Like he’d told his mom, it was just work. And that’s what he kept telling himself, even as he checked out the way Gina’s ass looked in those jeans as she walked up to the customer service desk at the big box hardware store. He reminded himself again when she did that thing where she twirled her hair around a finger while she waited for him to ring up the order. She did it a lot and probably wasn’t even aware of it. However, since it was his job to watch her, he’d seen her do it repeatedly. It always made him want to reach out and run his fingers through her wavy hair, curl it around his fist, draw her in for a kiss, and then—
“You ready to go?” she asked as she carried a box that had to weigh at least forty pounds.
“Let me,” he said, reaching for the box.
“I can do it.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to.” He took the box and led the way out to the car parked closer to the dollar theater in the shopping center than the home improvement store. People were lined up at the ticket booth. The marquee read: One night only! Jaws. For a man who couldn’t wait to get back to Gina’s place not that long ago, the idea of spending a few hours in a darkened theater sounded pretty damn good.
“Up for another movie night?” he asked, jerking his chin toward the theater marquee.
“The shark movie?” She held out her hand palm-up in the universal sign for give me your keys. “I’ve never seen it.”
He shifted the box of supplies and pulled the keys out of his front pocket—a more difficult task than usual after watching her walk around in those jeans. “What do you watch at the movies?”
“Mostly comedies, some indie movies.” She took the keys and, as soon as they were in range, clicked the open-trunk button on the key fob.
“Let’s expand your repertoire.”
She gave him a teasing smile. “Big word for a detective.”
“I’m not always going to be a detective,” he said as he loaded the box in his car’s trunk. “I’m going to be the youngest police chief in Waterbury’s history.”
She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side. “Yep. I can see it.”
So could he. He’d been planning his career path out since high school. So far everything had gone according to plan because he’d followed the rules—written and unwritten, like the one that said no fraternizing with anyone with ties to the Esposito crime family. That Gina’s tie was tenuous wouldn’t matter to the review board. It made him look like a guy who blew off the rules. But this didn’t count as fraternizing. He was on the job. It was totally different.
Keep telling yourself that, Hartigan.
Silencing that internal voice, Ford closed his trunk and turned to Gina. “Movie night, my treat?”
“I thought you were going to fix the wonky stair tonight.”
That stair was one of the few things still on his personal-handyman list. For some reason, he’d been dreading the arrival of the supplies Juan had ordered. “Maybe I’m putting that off because I don’t want your handyman list to be finished.”
Shut the fuck up, Hartigan, before you confess to all the dirty things you think when you hear her get into bed at night.
Gina’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t suppose you have any candy we can sneak in with us.”
“That’s against the rules,” he said, knowing she was just giving him shit and playing along. “I’ll get the popcorn, though, extra butter with M&Ms mixed in.”
“Not an offer I’m going to turn down. It’s a date.” Her cheeks turned pink the moment the words were out of her mouth.
He knew exactly where her mind was going, and he liked it. Not that he’d admit it out loud to anyone, but a date with Gina sounded pretty damn good. Since he couldn’t have that for real, he might as well let Hollywood help him pretend.
“That it is,” he said, sliding his palm across the small of her back and keeping it there as they walked across the parking lot and to the movie theater, as they stood in line for tickets, and while he carried the popcorn on their way to find their seats.
And when the lights went down, he moved the arm rest between them into the upright position. “To make it easier for you to reach the popcorn,” he said when she gave him a questioning look.
By the time the great white’s fin was spotted for the first time, his arm was resting on the back of the movie seat and they were sitting so close that if she dropped an M&M it wouldn’t be able to fall between them.
The fact that he’d already seen the giant shark menace the summer swimmers at least a million times wasn’t the reason why the action on the screen was just background noise. Instead, he was tuned in to the way her shoulders tensed whenever the music changed, how her eyes widened
as the action picked up, and how she giggled and shrugged when she caught him watching her reactions. When the police chief declared they were going to need a bigger boat, Ford was curling a strand of her wavy hair around his fingers and feeling every bit like a horny high school kid with no clue what to do next. And when the credits started on the screen, neither of them moved. They just stayed pressed against each other in the darkness as everyone got up.
Maybe he turned to her first, maybe it was her tilting her face upward, but before the first gaffer’s name scrolled by, his mouth was only an inch from hers. Her full lips were parted, and her hand dropped from the popcorn bucket to his thigh.
All thoughts of the dangers of fraternization and his captain’s warnings scattered. He dipped his head and her eyes fluttered shut just as someone in the row behind them passed by, accidentally jostling them in the process and sending what was left of the popcorn flying.
Gina grabbed the bucket before it hit the floor and sat back in her seat, that open, needy look on her face disappearing. “Sorry, I guess I crowded you.”
She was giving him an out. He should take it, but he didn’t.
Instead, he cupped the back of her head, bringing her toward him, and kissed her.
Electricity shot through him the moment his lips touched hers. And when she opened underneath him, it was all he could do not to move his hands to her hips and pull her across the seat and onto his lap so he could rock her against his straining dick, deepen the kiss, and finally give in to the want that had been building since the night of the wedding.
Some sane part of him pushed its way to the forefront, though, and reminded him of where he was and who he was kissing. Breaking the kiss wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he had to anyway.
They sat there staring at each other for a second, and the sight of her kiss-swollen lips made him want to give back into the insanity of kissing her, but he held on to his fast-fraying control. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.”
“It’s okay, it was just a kiss,” she said, avoiding looking at him as she stood up and brushed the stray popcorn kernels off of her. “Didn’t mean a thing, right?”
His gut clenched at the declaration as he stood up—because kissing Gina was starting to mean something to him, and there wasn’t a damn thing good about that.
Chapter Ten
Ford futzed with his tie the next morning, cursing whoever invented the damn things. He hated ties, but wearing them wasn’t optional for detectives on Waterbury’s force, so he’d gotten used to them. Now, after nearly five years of wearing one almost every day, he couldn’t get his fingers to work right to make a Windsor knot. Why the muscle memory amnesia? Probably the lack of sleep after that almost kiss yesterday at his parents’ house. Cockblocked by his own mom. That wasn’t right.
And as soon as they’d gotten back to Gina’s house after that kiss in the movies, she’d disappeared up the stairs, and he’d spent another night staring at the ceiling and wondering if tonight she was wearing the black lace panties.
“My grandma will think you’re up to something if you wear a tie.”
He turned and saw her standing in the open door to his makeshift room. She was wearing a retro-styled pink dress that was so sugary sweet all he wanted to do was dirty it up. Fuck. That was not where he needed his thoughts to go.
“It’s her birthday party, right? You’re dressed up.”
“Thank you.” She did a quick curtsy while giving him a teasing wink. “Still, a button-down shirt for you is fine. The tie makes you look like a cop.”
He checked out his reflection in the mirror above the cold fireplace. It was just a regular plain navy tie. It wasn’t like it was emblazoned with the department’s logo. “I am a cop.”
“Don’t remind me.” She snagged the tie from his hands and dropped it onto his freshly made couch bed.
“So, you’re saying you’re not going to introduce me to everyone as your boyfriend, Detective Hartigan?”
She looked at him like he’d just told her that she had ants crawling up her arm. “Oh God no, and don’t mention it to my grandma, she’s liable to curse you.”
Luckily for him, Grandma Luca did not do that. Instead, she grabbed him with surprisingly strong hands for an elderly woman and kissed him on both cheeks in greeting. Then she took Gina by the arm and led her into the kitchen for what the older woman called girl talk.
That left him alone to navigate Grandma Luca’s crowded living room. He recognized several of the people carrying around little plates of food, but most were new faces, which could be a good thing. Who knew what the Luca brothers had told these people in passing that might turn out to be valuable information? At this point, he didn’t have anything to lose.
He was about to approach a scrum of people near the TV when Rocco—who was wearing a tie—strolled up to him.
Rocco handed him a glass of what smelled like bourbon and delivered what probably looked like a friendly slap to Ford’s back that landed with enough force to leave a mark.
“I suppose you think you’re fooling people?” Rocco asked, the smile on his face not reaching the man’s eyes.
So that’s how this was gonna go, huh? Okay, he could play that game—especially if he could goad Rocco into revealing more than he wanted. After all, wasn’t that why he was here in the first place?
He gave Rocco his best you’re-full-of-shit-and-we-both-know-it smile. “I’d never expect to pull anything over on a guy like you.”
If the sarcasm landed, Rocco didn’t show it. “She’s too good for you.”
There was no need to ask who the she was because for once in his sorry, low-level-criminal life, Rocco was right about something. “I’m sure she is.”
“No, I mean it.” Rocco let the friendly veneer slide off his face. His eyes narrowed, his jaw squared, and an intense concern turned his already dark eyes to an almost black. “She’s got a good heart. People look at her and they make judgments. They always have. It’s not fair, but neither is life. That doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some pretty-boy organized crime detective just fuck with her head, though.”
And that accusation was way too close to the truth of how he’d ended up in her house to land without anything other than near-lethal force. Guilt burned like an iron poker pressed to his side. Ford’s cheeks hurt from holding the fake smile, and he had to consciously loosen his grip on the glass in his hand. Then, like an unexpected answer, he spotted Gina weaving her way through the crowd, a huge smile on her face that didn’t falter until she spotted him with her brother.
“Everything okay?” Gina asked when she got to them.
“It’s perfect, sis,” Rocco said. “Just having a little heart-to-heart with your boy.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she seemed to let it go. “You busy next Friday? It’s past time I kick your and Paul’s asses in bowling.”
Rocco’s gaze cut to Ford, the vein in his temple bulging. “Sorry, sis, we’re booked that night.” He kissed her cheek and started to walk away. “I’ve gotta go talk to Mikey. We’ll catch up soon.”
His trouble detector going crazy, Ford was ready to follow up with Rocco about what had him so busy that night when Ford’s phone started to vibrate in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out, took one look at the number, and knew there was no way to blow off this call to question a guy who would never give him a straight answer anyway.
“I gotta take this,” he said, hating all the reminders he got about who he was and who she was any time they walked out of her house.
Her smile faded just the tiniest bit, and she seemed to curl into herself, drawing an invisible protective shell around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it.”
That wasn’t the way this was going to go. Dipping his head, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips. It was a simple thing, easy, really, and it hit him like a Mack truck because when he lifted his head there was no missing the restored brightness of her smile that just made him want to kiss her again and again and agai
n until it was the only kind of smile she ever had.
Before he could do that, though, he forced himself to walk toward the relative quiet of the front porch under the suspicious watch of her brothers, who stood next to their grandmother in the living room. No doubt his captain on the other end of his ringing phone would approve of the kiss as a way to solidify his cover story with her family.
Ford hadn’t kissed Gina because of that, though.
He’d done it because he couldn’t stand the truth that whatever was building between the two of them couldn’t happen because the real reason why he was in her house and in her life was always there, lurking in the background. The revelation had him swiping his thumb over his phone’s touchscreen with more force than necessary to answer the call.
“Give me a second,” he said as he stepped out on the porch and did a quick visual sweep to confirm he was alone out there. “I’m not at the best place where I can talk.”
“Good, because you only need to listen,” the captain retorted. “Your clock is just about up. The ME’s report came in. No obvious signs of trauma from what was left of Big Nose Tommy Luca. The ME says without that, and considering the factors surrounding where the body was discovered, he probably starved to death after getting stuck in the wall.”
Of all the awful ways Gina’s grandfather probably had imagined going, a slow death by starvation probably hadn’t been what he’d pictured.
“A cleaned-up version of the report needs to be shared with the family,” the captain went on. “That means your time is up. I sure as hell hope you found out some intel.”
Oh he had. He knew Gina’s favorite color (pink), her irrational hatred of action movies (that really needed to be changed), and that when he looked at her, something happened to the air around him, making it hard to breathe. But about her brothers or the Esposito crime family? “Not yet.”
“Too bad. Getting information about the Espositos was the kind of thing that could make a detective’s career.”
Bile coated the back of his tongue with chalky guilt. “Understood, sir.”