Serving Up Trouble Read online

  “Bad timing, huh?”

  “You could say so. But the roommate has, curiously enough, not come back as promised.”

  “Well, just to make it interesting, we’ve got another development. A note on Angie’s door.”

  “Saying?”

  “Back off or die.”

  “Hmm. Not so light weight anymore, is it?”

  “No.” Sam’s gut clenched. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He clicked the phone shut.

  “I haven’t seen the suspect in a few days,” Angie said behind him. “I don’t know why he’d bother with me.”

  “Because you seem to be the only one who can point him out.”

  “I’m staying here tonight, Sam.”

  Sam pocketed his phone and faced her. “I’m not leaving you alone. Don’t ask me to.”

  “I’m not asking, I’m telling.”

  He stared her down, and after a long moment, she let out a long sigh. “You know, I really want to tell you to go to hell.”

  “Tell me whatever you want. I’m still not leaving you alone.”

  “I don’t follow demands or take orders from anyone, Sam. But…”

  “But…?”

  She turned away. “Fine. I don’t want to be alone either, okay? I don’t want to be alone bad enough that I’ll go with you. Just do me a favor and stay out of my way while I get my bag.”

  Angie came back into her living room a few moments later with a backpack on her shoulder. She stopped a breath away from Sam and tipped her head back to look at him. “I packed.”

  “Okay.”

  “And while I did, I did some thinking.”

  Uh-oh. “Okay.”

  A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she dropped her backpack to the floor and put her hands on her hips. Though she barely came to his chin, she managed to look down her nose at him. “You’re furious, tense and worried. And now, you’re surprised,” she added. “Did you really think I can’t see what’s going on in your head by now?”

  “Not many can,” he muttered.

  “Well, that alone should tell you some thing. But because you are furious, tense and worried, it tells me you care about me. Enough to want me with you.”

  “I want you safe.”

  “If that was the case, you’d send me to a friend’s. To my parents. But you want me with you. Why can’t you just say it?”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, it’s a new thing for me.” She smiled now, and it was a stunner. “And I like it. You know what else? I like you. I’m not sure why, but I like you. Okay, we can go now.”

  He took her pack, shouldered it. As she moved ahead of him, he found his hand at the small of her back. Not for her, but for him, because damn if he didn’t want his hand on her.

  At the touch, Angie craned her neck and smiled. One of those just-for-him smiles that did some thing ridiculous to his stomach.

  With a scowl, he dropped his hand.

  She simply reached for it, held it in her own. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered as they went out her front door.

  She was glad. Great. She was glad and he felt like he’d been tied in knots, and every time she looked at him, smiled at him, the strings tightened inside, drawing him further in, making him care all the more. All professional detachment was gone, and he knew it. No amount of not touching, no amount of being as gruff as possible was going to change anything.

  Outside he told the cop in his squad car that he was taking Angie, but to watch the house.

  “You should know,” he said to Angie, “you’re done risking your pretty neck.” He opened his passenger door for her.

  “What?”

  He stopped, framing her in between the truck door and his body, and though not a single inch of him touched her in any way, his entire frame quivered with aware ness. “You’re done going to night classes alone. Done coming home alone. Done trying to solve my case. Done with everything until this is over. Do you understand?”

  She let out a little laugh, but when he didn’t smile, hers faded. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Nope.” He shut the door, knowing he sounded like an ass but still so worked up and scared to death he didn’t care. He walked around and slid in behind the wheel, feeling the weight of her stare. Sighing, preparing to be blasted by her anger, he looked over. “What?”

  “You think my neck is pretty.”

  That was so far from what he expected her to say, he could only stare at her.

  “And there’s some thing else.” She reached over to put her hand on his. “About me not doing stuff…you’re talking from fear. I get that. I really do. But I can’t give in here, Sam. I just can’t. All I’ve ever wanted is a chance to fly. To be encouraged, to be loved for who and what I am.”

  His stomach landed on his feet with all this…mushy talk. “This isn’t about anything other than your safety.”

  “It’s about us.”

  She was right. God, she was right.

  “Can you do it, Sam? Can you take me seriously that way?”

  “What does that have to do with keeping you out of trouble?” he asked a bit desperately.

  “I think you know what’s going to happen if we’re not careful. Alone together in your house.”

  “We’re not a couple of horny kids.”

  “No, we’re not. You’re a passionate man. Intelligent, too. And in credibly sexy, Sam. Probably the most sexy man I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re not helping here, Angie.”

  “I’m about to. Because not even for you can I go back to my simple, complacent life.” Her voice was terribly quiet, and drove right through his heart. “I agreed to your protection tonight, but—”

  “No buts.”

  “But,” she continued patiently, “I won’t curb my new appetite for life. I hope you understand, I really do.”

  “It’s just one night,” he said desperately.

  She looked directly at him, his greatest nightmare, his greatest fantasy, all wrapped in one beautiful package. “It’s more,” she insisted.

  Sam’s heart pretty much skipped a beat. “We’re not sleeping together.”

  “Because you’re scared.”

  “Because you can’t separate love and sex.”

  “Can you?”

  Her cell phone rang then, startling them both. She went to answer it, but Sam grabbed her wrist, turned it, so he could look at the readout.

  “My mom,” she told him.

  Sagging back, he gestured for her to go ahead. While she talked, he drove. And tried not to think.

  He might as well try not to breathe. His brain whirled. She wanted him. She was going to be sleeping at his house. He wanted her.

  Ah, hell. Not good.

  “Yes, school is great,” Angie said into the phone, then let out a slow, pent-up breath. “No, Mom, I’m still not going to medical school…not to law school, either. We’ve been through all this. This is for me—Yes. Yes, I know Tony said he could get me work at the district attorney’s office, but that was a long time ago and I don’t want to work there, I want—Mom.” She sighed. “Mom—oops, hear that? Bad connection, gotta go. Love you, bye.”

  She tossed the phone into her purse, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  Sam divided his gaze between the road and her face. She looked tired. Alone. And in spite of himself, he ached for her.

  He waited until he’d parked outside his condo complex and turned off the engine. The street was deserted. The windows around them had started to fog, reducing his world to just the two of them. “Angie…”

  “Let me guess,” she said with her eyes still closed. “One of us is still sleeping on the couch.”

  “It’s for the best.” Liar, liar. “You should know, Angie…I don’t do love.”

  Now she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why not?”

  “Because…I just don’t.”

  “Because you’re a big, bad, tough cop?”
>
  “Partly because I’m a cop, yes.”

  “Oh, Sam.” She shook his head. “What you do for a living doesn’t matter to me as long as it makes you happy.”

  “Being a cop is who I am.” The leather seats crinkled beneath him when he shifted subtly away from her. “It defines me.”

  “Yes, it does. So, what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that you say it’s fine now, but it won’t be for long.” Where had that come from? What was he saying? That if it wasn’t for his job, he’d want her in his life? He’d actually give them a shot? God, he must be losing it.

  “Sam…” She leaned forward and cupped his face in her hands. “You’ve lost your faith in love, that’s all. You can get it back.”

  “It’s not that. My job…not many understand it.”

  “I understand. I always would.”

  “That’s a promise I doubt you could keep.”

  “Then you don’t know me very well.”

  Her fingers, her cool fingers, skimmed over his face while her eyes gave him nothing but an earnest ness that made his throat burn. “How could you promise such a thing?” he demanded. “Not even my ex-wife could.”

  Her eyes widened. “You…were married?”

  “For all of six months.”

  “That’s not very long.”

  “Long enough for Kim to realize being married to a cop was everything my mother had told her it would be. Namely bad.”

  Unable to stand the compassion in her eyes, her hands, he pulled back. He turned his head and looked out the window. “I don’t expect any woman to be able to handle this life of mine.”

  “Yes, I can see you’re quite attached to that idea.”

  He closed his eyes. “Look, I don’t know how we got into this. Let’s just get your bag and go inside.”

  She put her hand on his back. Lightly ran it over his tense muscles. He remained still, perfectly still, because if he turned and looked into her gaze, he might give in to this need for her that had him shaking like a damn newborn baby.

  “Not all woman are like your mother,” she said softly. “Or your ex. Some of us are far wiser.”

  He said nothing, just absorbed her amazing touch and tried to figure out why he liked it so much.

  “In fact, some of us are wise enough to know when some thing is such an elemental part of you that it can’t be separated out. Shouldn’t be separated out.” Her fingers slid up to the bare skin at the base of his neck. “You’re a man,” she whispered. “You’re a cop. It’s pieces of the pie, and you know what? I like all of it, every little piece.”

  “Angie—”

  “I do,” she said firmly. “I guess what I’m saying is…maybe someday you’ll consider risking your heart one more time.”

  “Angie—”

  “I know what I’m asking. I’m asking you to open up to all the hurt you promised yourself you’d never feel again, but Sam…life has to be lived.”

  “I live fine.”

  “Sam.”

  She waited until he looked at her, waited until he could do nothing but see her, really see her, and ache with all the yearning he didn’t want to acknowledge. “I want a lot of things,” she said. “I want this new life. I want to enjoy it. And I want you.”

  “Angie—”

  “I would never turn away from you.” Her fingers stroked his jaw. “Never.”

  He stared at her, and in complete ear nest ness, she held his gaze, never even blinking.

  God. What would it take to believe? To just lean in and let her kiss away all his fears? He almost did exactly that.

  She kept looking into his eyes, her own shining. “I could keep telling you all this, over and over, if that would help.”

  “Don’t.”

  She simply put her mouth to his.

  Chapter 10

  It was dark outside, darker yet in the truck, and still Angie felt a burst of light at the touch of her mouth to Sam’s. It felt good, it felt right…until he stopped.

  He looked at her so miserably her heart melted. “It was just a simple kiss,” she said.

  “It wasn’t just a damn simple kiss. Nothing with you is simple.”

  A car drove by, briefly illuminating the grim lines of his face. Pride flared, and she slowly pulled back. “I see.”

  “Angie…I just want you safe.”

  “Yeah. You’ve said.” She turned away, and when he reached for her, she shrugged him off. “Okay, let’s try this. First, please stop acting so concerned when it comes to me.”

  “What?”

  “Because you’re confusing the hell out of me. I think it was the way you kissed me.”

  “Oh, no. Wait a minute. You kissed me.”

  “I know.” She covered her eyes. “And stop calling me, okay? Stop every damn thing when it comes to me, and then, maybe then, I’ll be able to get my head back together.” She reached for her backpack, thinking she would get out and walk home.

  “Angie—”

  “No. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to think, you sure as hell don’t want to feel. I don’t know why I thought…oh, never mind.” More angry at herself than him, she tried to open the door but it was locked, and then he was reaching for her, blocking her way.

  “I shouldn’t have come,” she said stiffly, not facing him, trying not to feel the big, strong hands holding her in. “I should never have gotten involved with you.”

  “Damn right you shouldn’t, but you did.” He swore, then whipped her around to face him, no easy feat in the cab of his truck. “You did, and you’re here, and damn you, even if you weren’t I’d be thinking about you.”

  “Sam—”

  “Oh no, don’t shut me up now, I’m on a roll. You want me to talk? To think? To feel? I do all those things, for you. Only for you, Angie. I can’t seem to stop.” In the next breath, his mouth covered hers.

  She tried to resist, honest to God, she tried, but he nibbled, coaxed, cajoled and finally ate at her resolve with such hungry, sexy bites she gave in with a small cry of surrender.

  His hands urged her closer, over him, and with shocking ease, she straddled him right there on the bench seat of his truck. The kisses went on, hotter, deeper, wetter with each passing moment, punctuated by sighs and moans of pleasure as their hands got into the action, fighting for space.

  Angie’s anger vanished as heat and intense need surged through her body. He tasted good, so very good, and she was desperately hungry for him, the hunger fueled by the knowledge he felt the same about her whether he wanted to or not.

  His mouth was greedy, and so were his hands. She held her breath as his fingers danced down the material of her sundress to the hem, then slowly returned, bunching up the dress as he went, using both hands now, on her bare thighs, scooting her even closer so that the very center of her slid over the vee of his jeans, and a most interesting bulge.

  When she arched her hips, he let out a rough groan and filled his hands with her breasts. Humming with pleasure, she put her hands over his. “Sam, I need—”

  “I know. Me, too.” He un but toned the bodice of her dress, unhooked her bra, and spilled her breasts into his waiting hands. Leaning forward, he used his mouth, his tongue, his teeth until she was nothing but a string of taut nerves, quivering and edgy.

  She had to touch him. Her hands slid through his hair, over his shoulders, his back, beneath his T-shirt to the sleek, bare, heated skin she’d been dying to feel. “More, Sam.”

  “More,” he agreed, reaching around her to open the glove compartment, shoving maps and CDs to the floor, searching… “Yes,” he breathed, and held up a condom, which she took in her fingers.

  His hands were back on her bare thighs, beneath her dress now, cupping her bottom, rubbing her over his most impressive erection, and all she could do was whisper his name, begging for more. In tune to the squeaking leather beneath them and the moans and sighs of their own breath fogging up his windows, he gave it.

  He slid aside he
r panties and used his fingers to bring her to a shuddering orgasm that hit her so fast she scared herself. When he opened his jeans, she caught her breath, stared down at him in wonder, and then taking the condom from his fingers, putting it on him herself, she impaled herself on him.

  Filled to the limit, she let out a long, shuddering sigh that mingled with his quiet “oh yeah.” Then he cupped her face, brought her down for another soul-destroying kiss as he began to move.

  She wanted to come again, her entire body strained and writhed for it, and she couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t control her breathing, or the arching of her hips or the soft panting echoing in her ears. “Sam…”

  “I know.” He caressed her belly before gliding his hands to her thighs, holding them open for his thrusts while his thumbs brushed over the core of her. She sobbed out his name. He said hers, too, in a hoarse, tight whisper before he raised his hips and thrust so high inside her she exploded on the spot. Vaguely she heard the rough groan that told her he had found his release, too, in an explosion that shook his entire body.

  Gasping, she set her forehead to his, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, hanging on through the little after shocks that rippled through her system, determined to stay this way forever. Darkness reigned, and all the windows had long ago fogged, so there was no outside, nothing but the two of them, alone, together. “Mmm.” She sighed.

  “Yeah.” He waited until she lifted her face from where she’d plastered it to his neck. “I want you again,” he said. “Inside this time. In my bed.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He helped her right her clothing; slowly drew her bra closed, care fully tucking a nipple back in place, running a finger over the tip as he did, eliciting a shiver.

  He looked up at her, eyes aglow. “You like that.” To prove his point, he dipped his head and dragged his tongue over the hardened, aching point. “I want to taste the rest of you.”

  All she could do was nod.

  He slid a finger down the bunched elastic of her panties, straightening them, the pad of his thumb stroking the very center of her being as he did.

  She let out a horribly needy whimper.

  His eyes darkened. His thumb stroked again, and again she made the sound.