Blood Moon (19 page)

I should have known he wouldn’t tolerate my
ignoring him much longer. “Brooke!”

Just then, David returned from watching one
of the interrogations, and sat at his desk, watching me. “Thanks
for all your help, Nick. I’ll find it on my own.”

Just before I replaced the phone on its
base, I heard an irate
“God damn it, Brooke!”

David must have heard it too, because his
eyes widened, but before he could ask about it, I smiled.
“Apparently, we were looking for clubs that were too obvious in the
subculture,” I explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Nick told me that he and Bobby were
approached about a club called ‘
Gianna’s
’ back in college.”
I told him. “Said some woman claiming she let them use her like
some sort of donor bag invited them.” He was shocked when I told
him I’d actually been there, not knowing what kind of club I was
actually in, but he refocused quickly.

“Did you get the address?” David asked.
“Let’s head over there now.”

Shaking my head, I sighed. “Can’t. Nick said
the location moves around a lot.” As I explained this to him, I
wondered how Nick knew this. He didn’t say it
moved
around,
but that it
moves
around. How would he know that unless he
was in some way a part of it now?

“Brooke?”

I didn’t even realize I’d zoned out until
David spoke up. “Sorry.”

“No worries, you just went kind of blank
there. You feeling all right?”

Nodding, I stood. “Yeah. Fine.” Forcing my
head back into the game, I grabbed my jacket from the back of my
chair and pulled it on. “I say we head back to these clubs and
start asking the patrons if they’ve heard of
Gianna’s
. We’ll
go undercover if we have to.”

For the next two days, we searched for this
mysterious club. We asked around, but no one had heard of it.
Donovan, the owner of
The Dungeon
, admitted to knowing of
clubs like it, and even that his own had been modeled after them,
but the name
Gianna’s
didn’t ring any bells.

None of the other three clubs had heard of
it either, which only served to upset me further. It was
frustrating as hell, but I refused to give up.

We worked all afternoon, trying to find the
location of this place. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed at
first, but eventually, the captain came out of his office, making
his way over to my desk where David and I were still brainstorming.
We’d just gotten off the phone with Donovan, who agreed to contact
a few people in his inner circle, when my dad interrupted.

“You two should head out. You’ve been
working this case around the clock. Go out to dinner,” he
suggested. “You’ve got your phones. Someone will call if they find
anything.”

“Sir,” I started, but he cut me off by
raising his hand.

“No, Detective. Go.” His tone was stern, and
not one that I was ready to go up against.

David looked from my father to me and
shrugged. “Maybe he’s right.”

Pleased with David’s compliance, Dad
scurried off back to his office, and I turned to David. “He already
likes you. You don’t need to keep kissing his ass.”

Laughing, David grabbed our coats. “Come on,
Detective. Let me take you out somewhere nice. What are you in the
mood for?”

I thought about it for a second, weighing
all my options before I decided. “Steak. Definitely steak.” Then I
noted the hour. It was almost well after eight. “But it’s getting
late.”

David sloughed off my concern of the time as
no big deal. “I’m sure we can find some place.”

When we stepped out of the precinct, I had
the distinct feeling like someone was watching me. My first impulse
was to inhale deeply, and it surprised me when I picked up traces
of something. It was woodsy and surprisingly comforting—but also
concerning. I couldn’t negate that fact. My eyes scanned the
darkness on the way to the car, but I found nothing. That didn’t
mean I imagined things, though. While I could feel someone out
there, I didn’t sense an imminent threat, so David pulled the car
out of the lot.

We decided on J&G Steakhouse—my
favorite—and while David navigated the streets, I called ahead and
asked if we could get a table, even if it was a little late. The
manager said that there were still several tables that were still
ordering, so he didn’t have a problem getting us in.

After parking the car, David and I walked
arm in arm into the restaurant and were seated quickly by the
manager personally. We placed our drink orders and were given a
minute more with our menus. When our server made his way over with
our drinks, David took the liberty and ordered for the both of us
to save a bit of time. “Can I get two of your prime rib dinners,
please?”

“Definitely,” our server replied, jotting
our order down. “And how would you like them cooked?”

“Medium-well,” David said, closing his menu.
“And I’ll have the baked potato and—”

“Rare,” I interrupted. I don’t know why I
had the sudden desire for my steak to be cooked any other way than
medium-well, because the truth was, bloody steaks grossed me out.
Or…at least, they used to. Now it sounded strangely appealing, and
my mouth watered at the thought. The server acknowledged me with a
nod and marked my change down on the paper while David eyed me
suspiciously from across the table.

We both put in our side orders for our
meals, and then the server read everything back to us. With
everything settled, he left to put our order in, and David turned
to me. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Why?” I shrugged.

“Brooke, you just ordered your steak
rare
. Even the slightest shade of pink usually has you
sending your food back to the kitchen. What’s up?”

He was right, but I couldn’t explain the
sudden change. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just in the mood for
something different.” It seemed like David understood, and he let
it go without pressing any further.

I picked up my wine and took a sip, looking
across the table at a suddenly nervous-looking David. I’d never
known him to be so fidgety, but seeing him focused so intently on
his hands as he cracked his knuckles over and over again concerned
me. Reaching across the table, I placed my hand over his, and he
stilled.

“What’s up?” I asked. “You’re freaking me
out here.”

David chuckled; it wasn’t a jovial sound,
but hesitant instead. “Well, I’ve been waiting for the right time
to bring this up, and I thought maybe now was perfect.”

I inhaled a sharp breath at the seriousness
of his tone, remembering the last
two
times a man said
almost those exact words. Just like then, it could only mean one of
two things: he was ready to end things between us or he was about
to propose. Considering we’d spent almost every waking moment
together—except for the few times he had to go back to his
apartment for a few things—indicated that it was likely the latter.
Were we ready for that? After everything with Nick, was
I
ready for that?

“David—”

David swapped the positioning of our hands
so his encased mine, and his blue eyes glimmered with nervous
excitement. “These last couple years have been unbelievable,” he
began his thumbs moving back and forth over my hands. “And this
last week, with us finally being able to open up to those close to
us about our relationship and spending so much time together has
only brought us closer, I think. So, I was thinking that maybe it’s
time we took the next step and—”

“David, I don’t think I’m ready for
that.”

“—move in together.” The excitement in his
eyes extinguished, and his hands fell slack around mine, releasing
them. “You’re not ready? But—”

I shook my head quickly, mentally chastising
myself for misreading the situation as a marriage proposal, and I
took his hands back in mine. “No. Wait. That wasn’t what I thought
you were going to say.” He didn’t seem reassured.

“So, had this been a proposal, you’d have
said no?” he asked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a
headache come on. “But it wasn’t, so that doesn’t even matter.”

“But if it was?”

“Yeah, I guess I would have,” I answered
honestly. “But it doesn’t matter, because clearly you’re not ready
either if you didn’t ask. So this whole thing is a non-issue.”

David contemplated what I was saying before
his rigid posture relaxed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Relieved, I smiled. I could tell he was
still a little hurt by my answer to what I assumed was happening,
so I decided to give him this one. Not that it was a hard decision
to come to. “And in answer to your question, yeah, I think us
living together is a great idea.”

“Really?” Positively beaming, David stood
and pulled me into his arms, kissing me and hugging me and drawing
the attention of the other patrons. When they started clapping and
congratulating us, I blushed. “This is going to be so great.”

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I agreed.
Admittedly, living together never really crossed my mind over the
last few months, but being with David made me happier than I’d been
in a long time. Besides, we’d already been practically living
together since the night of my attack last week, so it sort of felt
like it was the next logical step.

David held me tighter, and I looked out the
window behind him and up at the sight of the almost-full moon in
the clear sky. The way I was suddenly drawn to it confounded me,
but, at the same time, something about it felt almost essential to
a part of me that stirred just below the surface. While I couldn’t
quite explain what this new sensation was, I knew that I was both
anxious and eager for whatever was coming next.

W
hen I woke up the
next morning, I felt a little queasy and jittery. The only thing I
could link it to was the steak at dinner. While it had tasted
absolutely amazing, maybe in hindsight, ordering out of my comfort
zone wasn’t such a bright idea. David had tried to tell me—even
asked if I was sure I didn’t want to send it back to be cooked a
little more. At the time, I was glad I didn’t, because the minute I
cut into that steak, its savory scent practically hypnotized me,
and I devoured it.

During dinner, David suggested that we stop
by his house after work the next day and pick up a few of his
things to bring over to
our
house—it was still a little
strange to call it that, but equally as thrilling. We then talked
about what he should do with his apartment—rent it out or sell
it—and I really had no idea. While I didn’t foresee anything going
wrong between us, would it be bad luck to sell it…you know, just in
case? We eventually decided to think it over for a few days before
revisiting the topic. It wasn’t like we had to decide right that
second.

I didn’t know if it was the romantic
setting, our new living arrangement, the wine going straight to my
head, or the intense need to release the stress of the last few
days, but as the minutes ticked by, I found it hard to focus on
anything but how badly I wanted to get David home and into
our
bed. While he ate, I had focused a little too intently
on his soft lips, imagining how satisfying it would be to have them
on mine or anywhere else on my body. Every time he picked up his
wine glass, my gaze would drift to his hands, fantasizing about the
warmth of them setting my skin ablaze as they roamed over my skin.
When he spoke, I imagined him whispering in my ear as we made
love.

My eyes were instantly drawn to his bright
blue eyes, and the desire that was reflected back at me made me
realize just how long it had been since we’d made love. Not for
lack of either of us trying; it just seemed like every time things
started to heat up between us, something important happened like
our new case and the attack, or my hospitalization and concurrent
recovery. Naturally, David was the kind of guy who would never
push—which of course only made me want to remedy this immediately
and show him my appreciation.

The feeling only grew with every minute that
passed, and we’d barely made it through the front door before I
accosted him against it, crushing my lips to his and unbuttoning
his shirt as quickly as I could. Kissing ravenously, lust clouding
the air we struggled to take in, we moved down the hall toward the
bedroom, stumbling and leaving a trail of clothes in our wake like
breadcrumbs. When we were within inches of the bed, David eased me
down onto it and hovered over me dominantly.

Something in me shifted unexpectedly when
his eyes locked with mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist,
rolling him onto his back and pinning him to the mattress, my hands
around his wrists while I kissed his jaw and neck. My nose brushed
against his throat, and I inhaled deeply, taking in his unique
fragrance until it fogged my brain. He smelled so amazing—so
tantalizing—and I couldn’t seem to get enough of him.