Definitely Naughty (8 page)

“The first round’s on me,” Harry Bigalow announced from the center of the bull pen. “As long as it’s what’s on tap.”

“Cheap bastard.” Stan Whitset, who’d been a detective for a couple of years, turned to Liam and Ernie Rogers. “You guys comin’?”

Rogers nodded. “Free mediocre beer? Who could pass that up?”

Liam thought about staying to make some calls, but the White House was on the way to his apartment, and he’d have to stop there before he met up with Aubrey. Besides, he could use a beer, mediocre or not. “Yeah, sure.”

Rogers lifted his eyebrows. “Glad you’re joining us.”

“What?” Liam shrugged. “Oh, yeah, I have time for one.”

“Want a ride?”

“Sure.”

They talked about one of their current cases on the drive over. Liam had never felt this relaxed with Rogers before. Maybe it was because while Liam was paying attention to the conversation as they’d inched along through traffic, Aubrey lingered in the back of his mind. Scattered thoughts about tonight. About how he’d picked up a coconut cake at the market this morning because he’d finally been invited to her apartment. He wasn’t sure why she’d asked him over, especially this close to Christmas. Her roommates would be there, she’d told him that much, but she’d seemed nervous. It was a step up the dating ladder, if he could call what they did dating. Hell, the personalized Christmas tree, now meeting her friends. Maybe he should think about inviting her to his folks’ holiday brunch.

He definitely needed a drink.

“So,” Rogers said after they parked and were walking to the bar, “you decided to lift your ban on this hole in the wall, huh?”

Liam slowed at the question. He hadn’t realized anyone had noticed his reluctance to go to the White House. Rogers probably wasn’t the only one, either. Shit, no wonder Tony Ricci was so smug. “Yeah,” Liam said, keeping it casual. “Tonight’s for Bigalow. Besides, I have plans so I won’t be staying long.”

“Good for you. Life shouldn’t be all about the job.”

Funny that Rogers should say that. Just this morning Liam had been thinking the same thing. Although he’d also wondered if his feelings for Aubrey had more to do with the thrill of their agreement than anything else. He had no idea how he would feel if they’d met under normal circumstances.

He definitely would have been attracted to her no matter what, but he doubted he would have considered getting into a serious relationship with her. Thank goodness for that mysteriously appearing trading card. He’d have hated to miss this.

Once inside, he spotted a couple of detectives from the 18
th
already at the old mahogany bar. He recognized a number of other cops and support personnel from their precinct. A few badge bunnies were circulating, looking hopeful.

He even saw the waitress Tony’d been so infatuated with, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Everybody needed to just get over it already.

Bigalow entered the building to a smattering of shouts, and the crowd waiting for drinks cleared a path for him. He’d announced his retirement today, hence the round. The official party would take place after his last day. Liam didn’t know Bigalow well, but his record was good and even though he’d called Liam Ridiculous, he’d never belittled the work.

Rogers handed Liam a glass and they headed for their precinct’s section of the bar. It was an informal setup, several tables, a booth, a bunch of chairs. Nothing special, but it was far away from the jukebox so at least it wasn’t too noisy.

Ricci was already sitting in the booth, and while he didn’t break into song when he caught sight of Liam, he didn’t look as if he was itching for trouble, either. Stan waved Liam and Rogers over to a couple of empty chairs. Even before they sat down Stan looked up at Liam. “I gotta know, Flynn. Was that your girlfriend?”

Flynn
. That was a surprise. “Kind of,” he said.

“How do you kind of have a girlfriend?”

“Long story. She’s…not easy to pin down.”

“She sure as hell tore Ricci a new one. That seems pretty pinned down to me.”

A quick look at the booth told Liam that Ricci did not appreciate the topic. “Yeah, she’s something, all right.”

“Whatever she is,” Rogers said, “if she’s the reason that big stick has come out of your ass, you hold on to her.”

Liam put his beer down. Rogers was just full of illuminating information tonight. Stick up his ass? For trying to get a modicum of respect from his coworkers? As if he was the one at fault for their juvenile bullying—he stopped that thought right there. “No,” he said as casually as he could. “I just finally realized I had to accept the fact that I work with a bunch of immature pricks.”

The group around him laughed. He relaxed again and picked up his drink, feeling as if he’d made some headway. He wondered if it would make any difference back on the job. Whatever. He wasn’t about to lose sleep over it.

Thankfully, Bigalow sat down, and all the attention went to him. Fifteen minutes later, Liam almost wished he didn’t have to leave. He liked hearing the old man’s stories. He’d been a detective long before the internet or cell phones, and it was a different job back then.

But nothing outside of a case would keep Liam from spending time with Aubrey. He made a quiet exit. The minute he was settled in the taxi he couldn’t help thinking about what Rogers had said, and how easily Liam had taken it in stride. Aubrey just kept on surprising him, but tonight, he’d also surprised himself.

“This is Sanjula,” Aubrey said, shocked she could breathe, let along speak. It was probably too late to turn him around and just leave. She’d had the whole evening planned out. A quick pizza with her friends, which would end with the girls tactfully leaving for an hour and a half. By the time they returned, she and Liam would both be dressed. She’d go to the shop and work, he’d go home. No messy feelings or thinking.

Instead, she was more nervous than Sheldon Cooper giving a speech.

“Nice to meet you,” Liam said as he held out a cake box like he was offering a handshake. “I brought this.”

His awkwardness made Aubrey’s chest ease a little. God, he was so adorable when he had no clue what to do.

“Thank you,” Sanjula said, taking the cake from him. “Caro’s gonna be here any minute. She had to work late. But since the pizza isn’t here yet, that’s not a problem. Can I get you a drink?”

Aubrey made him jump when she went to take off his coat. When he looked at her, though, he smiled and let go of a big breath. “Thanks.” Before she could turn to the coatrack, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a lip-kiss. Not even a hint of tongue.

Behind them, the door swung open so hard it knocked against the wall. Caro grinned at Liam, then Aubrey. “What did I miss?”

Aubrey laughed. “Well, you’re in time for the ritual Hanging of the Coat, but alas, you’re too late for the traditional Giving of the Cake.”

“Cake?”

“He gave,” Aubrey said, nodding at Liam. “We received.”

Caro stuck out her hand. “I’m Caro, and my boss is an asshole, but it’s really nice to meet you.”

“Thanks. Aubrey talks about you guys a lot.”

“Yeah, us, too. I mean, she talks about you. To us.”

Even Liam smiled, although it was kind of crooked. “I don’t want to know,” he said. “Do I?”

“Probably not.” Sanjula joined the threesome. “It’s all been good, though.”

“Glad to hear it.” Liam looked at where Caro was still holding on to his hand.

She let him go with a big wince and a small blush. “Sorry. I’ve had a lot of coffee today.”

Aubrey was vaguely aware of the small talk. Liam seemed pretty comfortable, but if she’d thought she was nervous before, she’d been mistaken. This whole dinner had been mistake. It was as if he were meeting her
parents.
Shit. Shit. Shit. How had she not seen this? How had Sanjula and Caro not seen this? She’d brought him home to meet the folks! Clearly she’d been too focused on controlling the sex. Because whatever this was, it wasn’t stepping back.

To make things worse, which seemed impossible, she was suddenly desperate for Caro and Sanjula to like him. Des-per-ate. If they didn’t it would hurt her. Deeply.

“Aubrey?”

His hand was on her elbow, his head tilted slightly to the right. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Great. Fine. I was just thinking about work.”

“Anything I can help with?”

The “don’t freak out” ship had sailed, but she could still pull herself together enough to avoid looking like she was having a nervous breakdown. “You could get me a bottle of wine,” she said, her smile perfectly normal.

“A bottle?” He pressed his lips together for a minute, then nodded. “Just point me to the nearest liquor store, and tell me what to get.”

She blinked as she played back the past few seconds. “Glass,” she said. “I meant glass.” Her laughter sounded mechanical and she felt like she might throw up, but instead she started toward the sink, which was the focal point of the kitchen area. “Just a glass or two of red wine. That’d be great.”

At least Liam was no better at hiding his alarm than she was. That had to count for something.

“Dinner was fun,” Liam said, taking off his shirt. “I like your friends.”

Aubrey laughed. “God, you should have seen your face when they asked you about your intentions.”

“Can you blame me? They were ruthless.”

“They were kidding.”

“Ha, ha.”

“You can put your clothes on the chair. No room for anything fancy in here like a closet or a dresser.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, but she doubted he’d heard her. He was staring at the art she’d put up on the only wall in her room that wasn’t covered with clothes hooks. “These are good.”

“Thank you.” She was undressing, feeling more bashful about his laser-sharp focus on her paintings than her own nudity. There were six pieces altogether—four acrylics, two watercolors and a couple of multimedia experiments. They were different from her window designs, and each one reminded her of a certain time of her life. But they weren’t all that spectacular.

“No, I mean it,” he said, clearly not happy with having to look at the work from such a weird angle. “I knew you were talented, but I didn’t realize—”

“What?’

He turned to her. “You’re gallery good. You should have a showing. I’m just knocked out by your painting. Especially the people.”

He really didn’t sound like he was bullshitting. Her face grew hot. “Okay, Detective Flynn. Thanks and all, but I’m a sure thing.”

The look he gave her flipped her world yet again. He’d meant it. She’d just insulted him. Over paintings she’d done at Pratt. And one from high school. “What’s that about?” he asked. “Did you think I wasn’t being honest?”

Oh, God. This night could not have gone worse. She loved that he thought her stuff was great, but it was strange, too, because no one she’d ever gone out with had said such things. Not without an agenda.

First she brought him here, to her home, to the closest people in her life, and now… She had to do something. Take some kind of action to avoid digging herself into an even deeper hole.

“I was teasing,” she said, hoping her acting was as good as her art. “I want you looking at me. Not at the wall.” She approached him slowly until she was close enough to nip his lower lip. Her hand on his fly, she prevented further discussion with her tongue. His hardening cock told her she had his full attention. Thank God. Sex was her only hope of getting out of this without falling completely in love with him.

Liam dropped his pants and kicked them away, grateful he’d left his shoes in the living room. Now he needed to remove his socks before she got his underwear off.

When she pulled back after his boxers had hit the floor, he noticed she was still wearing her red dress. It was short and cute, but it covered most of his favorite parts. He pulled her into his arms to search for a zipper.

She leaned her head against the bare curve of his neck. “It goes over my head. No zipper, no buttons.”

“Now that’s form
and
function.” He started lifting the dress and found he wasn’t capable of removing his socks while doing anything else. Not even kissing her. When he finally had the dress off, she looked up with a curl to her lips and eyes full of trouble. All thoughts of socks flew out the window.

“You are gorgeous,” he said, and started walking her toward the bed. It wasn’t a long journey. But before he let her fall, he had to check out tonight’s lingerie selection.

She wore a white bra, not lacy or anything, and white underwear. Not a thong, just a regular pair of bikini panties. His mouth opened and his cock jerked, leaving a dab of pre-cum on her hip.

“Really?” she asked, looking into his eyes with disbelief.

He swallowed, then shrugged. “You’re sexy. So sue me.”

Aubrey blushed, and took a step back. And then, weirdly, her body stiffened and she looked at the door as if she wanted to make a break for it. When she turned back to him seconds later, she was smiling as she reached back to unhook her bra.

“Did I say something wrong? With your friends?”

“No,” she said. “No. You were great.”

He wanted to believe her, but something was off, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time for him to have a raging hard-on. Aside from the fact that it made it difficult to think, she probably wouldn’t believe him if he said he just wanted to talk.

She hadn’t even dropped her bra. She held it, demurely, against her breasts. “I forgot to bring the condoms from the bathroom,” she said, which would have explained her glance at the door except that she said it in her normal voice instead of the breathy, sexy way she spoke when she was eager and aching.

Confused as hell, he said, “I’ve got three in my wallet.”

“Well, go on,” she said, waving him away with her free hand. “Sanjula said they’d be back in an hour and a half, so if we’re going to make any noise at all, we’d better do it fast.”

“Fast,” he repeated, walking across the room wearing nothing but his black socks, his erection flagging with each step. What the hell had happened? She’d been jumpy all evening. But if anyone had a right to be jumpy, it was Aubrey. Hell, the showdown with her boss was coming up and tonight she’d introduced him to her friends, which had to have been as nerve-racking for her as it was for him.