All Fired Up (DreamMakers) (5 page)

“She went to Adams High in Marin County,” Dean said, his gaze focused on his cell phone screen. “And she designed the school yearbook in her senior year. Means she’s good at art, right? And maybe computers, too.”

Parker nodded absently. Normally he enjoyed piecing together details to create a usable profile, but tonight he was having a bitch of a time concentrating. His thoughts kept straying to the beautiful woman in the car ahead of them. Christ, he was dying to catch another glimpse of those mesmerizing silver-blue eyes.

“Holy shit, man,” Dean blurted out. “I’m looking at the faculty bios for Adams High, and I
totally
slept with the girls’ volleyball coach. Small fucking world, huh?”

There was a smacking sound, and Parker glanced over at the passenger seat to see his buddy sucking on a piece of licorice.

The same shade of red as Lynn’s pouty lips.

God help him.

“Anyway,” Dean went on, “we’ve made some headway, at least. She likes cornflowers, which bodes well for blue being her favorite color. She’s into art. She obviously cares about her health, since she does yoga. I’m starting to get a sense of her. You?”

Parker gulped. Oh, he had a sense of her, all right. The kind of sense that hummed in his cock and made him want to pull her over, yank her out of her car, and fuck her until they both couldn’t see straight.

“She seems pretty level-headed,” he answered, considering the brief words they’d exchanged at yoga. “I don’t think she’d go for anything overly extravagant. No mariachi bands singing to her at dinner, or big displays that make her the center of attention.”

Up ahead, Lynn changed lanes. A second later, she parked in front of a Fresh Mart. Parker quickly followed suit, steering the SUV through the lot and choosing a space not too far from hers.

Both men watched as Lynn slid out of her car.

Parker hit his door release. “I’ll follow—”

“Bullshit.” Dean shoved his hand in front of Parker’s face, a receiver and speaker dangling from his fingers. “You’re not thinking that one through, bro. Are you
nuts
? She just saw you at yoga. You show up in the same grocery store as her five minutes after class, and she’ll call the cops.”

Shit. “You’re right.” Parker sat back with far more reluctance than he should have while simply deciding who would follow a target.

Of course, Dean, the observant asshole that he was, picked up on the hesitation immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a full report of everything she’s buying.”

“Great.”

“Every stick of celery.”

“Fine.”

“Every bag of chips.”

“Good.”

“Every dirty magazine off the rack—”

“Fuck off.”

Dean tucked his earpiece into place and attached a tiny mic to his collar. “Just think—she could have chosen to stop at an adult shop like The Pleasure Chest or something. How’d you like to hear a live-action report on that?”

The idea was far too tempting. “How about you focus on the things she buys that might help us plan the damn date.”

Dean was out, both feet on the pavement. He paused to lean on the doorframe, teasing grin firmly in position as he looked at Parker. “Wonder if she’s the type who goes for a rubber ducky?” he cracked.

Parker rolled his eyes. “A grown woman in her late twenties? I highly doubt that.”

“No, bro, I was talking about a
rubber ducky
. You know, that new brand of vibrator that chicks can bring into the tub?”

Parker’s cock twitched. Christ. Dean just
had
to plant that image in his head, didn’t he? “Go follow her, you ass, and shut up about sex. She’s getting groceries.”

“Shut up about sex?” Dean muttered softly the entire way to the front door of the market. “Shut
up
? Everything is about sex, and you know it. Dating is about sex. Clothes are about sex. Hell, even this magnificent display of tomatoes I find before me as I enter the store—even this is about sex.”

Tomatoes. “Right. Explain that one as you find our mark, please.”

“Grabbing a cart.” There was a rattling noise, and then a steady
squeak, squeak, squeak
began in the background. “Heading down the cheese and bakery section. No sign of her. And the tomatoes—obvious, bro. Breast fixation. Stock boy set up the display in pairs.”

Parker gave in and let his head collapse forward, hard enough he set off the horn. He jerked upright, glancing around to make sure no one had witnessed his mistake. “Dean…”

“Looking. Looking.”
Squeak
.

Squeak.

Squeak.

“Oops, okay, found her.” Dean’s voice dropped to a faint whisper. “A couple instant noodle dishes—looks like Thai, some spaghetti sauce in a jar. Whole wheat noodles.”

“Healthy stuff. Got it.”

“Pecans…oh, shit.” The squeak in the background stopped mid-screech. “Umm…”

“What?” Parker demanded.

“Contraceptive section.”

Damn it. There went his final hope that the blue-eyed goddess wasn’t really
involved
with Phil the slime. “Don’t let her spot you,” Parker warned.

“Fuck you, too. I know my job. And I can multitask. For example, I can stand here, completely out of her line of sight, and observe that she’s pulling
lube
off the wall. At the same time I’m being Mr. Observant, I can think what a shame it is that such a fine woman isn’t on the market. Imagine all the dirty, dirty things we could do with her…”

Parker had indulged in enough threesomes with Dean to know the other man
excelled
at dirty.

“She’s smoking hot,” Dean added.

“Tell me about it.” He made a frustrated noise. The woman was pulling
lube
from the shelf? His cock was far too interested in that bit of information. “You weren’t the one who had to watch her during yoga.”

“Damn shame,” Dean said again. “She’s wasted on Shotelle. You and me could rock her world in ways that idiot never could.”

Parker nodded glumly. “Yup. But we’re not. And we can’t, because she’s the girlfriend of a client. So—” A crash sounded in the background. “What was that?” he demanded.

“She’s on the run. Top shelf was a little too high for her and she knocked a section down reaching for a box. She’s vanished around the corner, cart and all, like there’s someone on her ass.”

That didn’t sound like Lynn, not even from a short time of observation. “She’s not sticking around and picking stuff up?”

Dean’s amused chuckle carried over the line. “I think she’s too shy to deal with helping anyone pick this up. Guess what’s on the top shelf—you’ll like this one, bro.”

He bet he wouldn’t. “What?”

“Boxes of lube
with
accompanying finger vibrators. Looks as if someone’s planning a little private entertainment.”

Great. Parker was going to spend the rest of the night with an erection trying to tunnel its way out of his pants, just from the mental image of Lynn slipping her fingers between her legs.

“Recon is done. Get out, now,” he barked.

“Need me to pick up anything?” Dean asked. “There’s lots of lube right here—might help with that frustration I hear in your voice.”

“
Now
, Colter. Haul ass.” Parker briefly closed his eyes and sighed. The sooner he got rid of Dean, the sooner he could go home and deal with his
frustrations
.

Alone.

And that sucked hugely.

Dean

He wasn’t surprised Parker called off the recon so early, especially after a quick glance revealed his buddy was sitting as uncomfortably in the car as Dean.

Lynn Davidson’s brand of shy innocence was damn attractive, and taunting Parker had backfired—Dean was riled up as well. As much as he loved his partner, and as pretty as Parker was, the other man couldn’t help him with his current dick-related predicament.

Fortunately, he knew someone who could.

Dean pulled out his phone the second Parker sped away from the Fresh Mart. He scrolled through his substantial list of contacts before he found the one he wanted. “Katie baby,” he drawled a second later. “Feel like playing tonight?”

A snort sounded from the driver’s seat.

The call lasted all of three seconds. He hung up and turned to Parker. “Change of plans. Drop me off at the next block.”

“What about your car? You left it at the studio.”

“I’m sure I can convince Katie to drive me back there tomorrow.”

“Dude. Do you have a fuck buddy on every street in the city?”

He grinned. “Pretty much.”

“Tell me, when you were a baby, was your first word
sex
or
fucking
?”

“Not sure. It might have been
pussy
.”

That earned him a loud snicker from Parker, who shifted his attention to the road as Dean put away his phone. He wondered what his buddy would say if Dean told him he hadn’t lost his virginity until he was nineteen. But
naah
, Parker wouldn’t believe him, and besides, he had a reputation to uphold.

He hadn’t always been a ladies’ man, but he sure as hell was one
now
.

“Turn left up there,” he instructed. “It’s the second house on the right.”

Parker smoothly steered toward the intended destination and parked in front of the skinny Victorian home. He let out a sigh. “We’ll look through all our information tomorrow. Hopefully we’ve got enough intel to plan something good.”

“A part of me wants to tell Shotelle to fuck off,” Dean admitted. “I still have a bad feeling about the guy.”

“Yeah, me too. But this is our business. We have to finish the job whether we like the client or not.” There was no mistaking the agitation in Parker’s green eyes. It was rare to see his friend so torn about a gig, or so taken with a target.

“You’re right. Let’s see how it goes tomorrow,” Dean finally said.

“Sounds good.” With a nod, Parker reached for the gearshift. “All right. Get the fuck out of here.” He cocked a brow. “Unless I’m invited for your date with Katie baby?”

“Sadly, no. She’s only into one-on-one.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “But I’m working on it, so ask me again tomorrow and the answer might be different.”

He hopped out of the SUV, closing the door and tapping the frame in goodbye. A moment later, Parker sped off, and Dean headed toward the house, still thinking about the Shotelle job. But he forced the misgivings aside. That was tomorrow’s problem.

Tonight he had a boner to take care of, and a lady to make happy. Fortunately, the two things went together oh so well.

Chapter Three

Lynn blinked hard as she shuffled from the underground parking at the Bay City Press building and into the elevator. Her eyes were full of grit after her crappy night, and she was having trouble keeping them open.

She’d been too worked up over Phil to sleep. Instead she’d lain awake in bed, wondering how in the world she could find out the truth about her boyfriend. It wasn’t as if he would announce something plain and simple like “Sorry, but I have to cancel another date with you so I can bang your coworker on the side.”

An enormous yawn escaped as the elevator stopped at the ground floor and a crowd poured in, trapping her in the corner like a poorly prepared shopper on Black Friday. She couldn’t see a single thing except the tailored suit in front of her, a man’s broad shoulders blocking the view of everyone and everything.

Of course, as squished as they were, someone’s phone had to ring. Bodies shifted awkwardly, and Lynn mentally cursed whoever was jackass enough to respond while stuck in such tight quarters. As if they couldn’t wait thirty seconds and return the call when they weren’t inconveniencing everyone else in the place.

The fact she wasn’t surprised to recognize the inconsiderate bastard’s voice as soon as he spoke made her sad all over again.

“Phil Shotelle speaking. Of course, sir. I’d love to join you for lunch. In fact, I have an update regarding the big promotional sales event I’m organizing. I think you’ll be impressed.”

Lynn rolled her eyes so hard she might have sprained something.

Okay, this was stupid. The thoughts she had regarding the man were not the lover-ly reflections of a besotted girlfriend. Whether or not Phil was cheating, it was clear she needed to call things off with him and go looking for greener pastures.

Or hotter ones.

Parker’s teasing grin leapt to mind, and damned if her libido didn’t click over to high with a hum that was nearly audible in the confined space. She squeezed her legs together in the hopes she’d be walking normally by the time they reached her floor.

Small mercies—Phil exited the elevator ahead of her then cut immediately to the left without a backward glance, saving her the trouble of having to say hello, or goodbye.

She wasn’t a chicken. Much. She simply needed more coffee before officially making a move.

Only, oh joy, oh bliss, her Wednesday turned into what Suz had so perfectly branded a
Crapapalooza
. One unending disaster after another meant she spent more time putting out fires than moving forward. Lynn barely had time to pee, let alone stop for lunch or inform her boyfriend he’d been awarded the coveted
ex
status.

“Hey, girlfriend.”

She spun her chair, concern hitting hard and fast when she spotted Suz approaching her cubicle. They hadn’t spoken all day, and her friend sounded as if she’d spent the last five hours screaming and lost not only her voice, but her will to live.

“You look horrible. What’s up?”

Suz pasted on a ghastly smile. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Oh lordy. “You’re scaring me.” Lynn jumped to her feet and dragged her BFF into the confines of her purple cubicle, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “You’re one of the best liars in the world, and that one sucked eggs. Something is seriously wrong, isn’t it?”

Suz nodded, then shook her head. “No. I mean there’s no death or disaster involved. Yet. I just…” She lifted her gaze to Lynn’s, her green eyes lacking their typical sparkle. “I hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’. I mean, I joked about what an ass Phil was, but I don’t want you hurt, and what I’ve got to tell you—”