Play It Again (17 page)

My brow furrows. “Are you sure? I was
thinking—”

“I’m sure,” she says, interrupting me. “I’ve
seen the way he checks out your ass when you wear skinny jeans,
specifically these ones.”

Kim shoves the dark denim pants into my
hands, before diving back into the closet, pulling out a basic
white ribbed tank top, and tosses it at me.

I catch it, scrunching my nose as I hold it
up. “A tank?”

Kim laughs, elbowing me playfully. “Trust me,
will you? I know my cousin. Simple is sexy and besides,” she
shrugs, “you’re going to be stuck in a truck all night. Comfy is
good, too.”

“Right,” I say. “Skinny jeans and a tank it
is.”

Tossing the clothes onto the bed, I start for
my dresser, and then stall, as the house alarm lets off a string of
beeps instigated by the motion detectors, and then Jimmy shouts,
“Pipes, Vance is here!”

“No, no, no,” I chant, rushing over to my
dresser, and tugging open the top drawer.

There’s no way it’s been ten minutes.

Kim laughs, casting me an amused look as she
walks past me, heading for the door. “Get dressed. I’ll stall
him.”

I mumble a thanks that I’m certain she
doesn’t hear as she closes the door behind her. Dropping my towel,
I quickly slip on a pair of lime green lace panties and matching
bra, and then I rush back over to my bed and wiggle into my pants,
zipping and buttoning.

I tug on my tank as I move into the bathroom,
taking a deep breath before diving into my make-up bag, shifting
through the minimal contents. I’ve never been one to wear a lot of
make-up, usually just a touch of blush and gloss, maybe some
eyeliner and mascara when I’m feeling daring, but today, I wish I
had some foundation. The bruising running from my cheekbone up into
my hairline is turning that nasty greenish-yellow, and some
cover-up would do wonders for it.

I swipe on some gloss, and spritz on some
coconut body spray, before running my hands through my hair,
fluffing it up. It’s still a little damp, but it’ll have to do,
because I’m officially out of time.

Heading back into my room, I grab my things,
stuffing my cell phone into my purse, and nearly sprint out of the
room, jogging down the hallway. My footsteps falter as I round the
corner into the empty living room, and I pause completely when my
eyes come in contact with Vance through the window.

He’s outside, leaning against Kim’s car, one
arm propped on the roof as he talks with her and Jimmy through the
open window. He’s wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a tee,
laughing at something Kim is saying.

Jesus, he looks good.

He always looks so good.

My heart stalls a beat at the sight of his
grin, before kicking into high gear as the butterflies in my belly
try to take flight. My feet start to move again, though slower this
time, as I step toward the door, setting the alarm to
away
as I pass the panel, and quickly lock up.

Vance pushes off the car, moving a few steps
in my direction, as I step away from the door, his eyes flicking
over me.

“Hey.” I lift my hand, offering a little wave
as I cross the driveway. “Sorry for the wait.”

He smirks, but remains quiet for a moment,
staring at me with an intensity that makes my cheeks blush and my
knees weak as I walk toward him, before he finally lifts his chin
and says, “Hey, Piper. You ready to go?”

“I, uh, I … I guess so,” I stammer foolishly,
blushing again and feeling all flustered by his intense gaze, as I
stop in front of him.

He chuckles under his breath, his eyes
scanning me over once more, and he leans over, placing a quick but
firm kiss on my lips.

I gasp, startled by the unexpected kiss,
blinking up at him as he pulls away. I’m not sure I’m ever going to
get used to this … this …

Ugh. I don’t even know what this is.

I don’t know what we are.

I don’t know what he’s doing or what he’s
looking for.

But he does this a lot, kisses me whenever he
feels like it, and each time it feels new, feels different.

And each time, no matter how quick or
intense, it’s a shock to my system, making my heart thrum and my
knees weak.

He chuckles at me, before saying a quick
goodbye to Kim and Jimmy, and then he strolls over to the passenger
side of his truck, opening the door for me.

“Wow,” Kim whispers, gaping. “When the hell
did he become a gentleman?”

I let out a sharp bark of laughter, shrugging
a shoulder as I whisper, “I don’t have a clue, but I’m not going to
complain.”

Starting up her car, Kim shakes her head,
staring at her cousin as he stares at me, waiting for me to get in.
“This is just … odd,” she says, putting the car in gear.

Jimmy laughs, patting her shoulder. “Don’t
worry, Kimmy. One day you’ll have your very own badass opening
doors for you, too.”

Kim rolls her eyes, and I laugh.

Vance watches me curiously as I turn away
from Kim, still laughing. He cocks a questioning brow as I hop into
the truck, though he doesn’t ask, shutting my door and walking
around to the driver’s side to get in.

Starting up the truck, he stalls for a moment
looking at me, his hand on the gear shift.

“What do you feel like for supper? It’s
gotta be something quick, though, something we can take with
us.”

“Anything,” I say. “I’m game for whatever you
feel like.”

He lets out a laugh, the sound easing some of
my nerves, as he puts the truck in reverse and backs onto the
street. “Pita Den.”

“Ooo, I love that place.”

He cuts his eyes to me, his dark ones
twinkling with mirth. “I know,” he says. “Chicken Cesar pita, half
dressing on whole wheat.”

“How did you …” I start, and then stall,
shaking my head. “Jesus, did Kim keep anything a secret from
you?”

He laughs. “Not likely.”

“I’m definitely going to reconsider my choice
in best friends when I get home,” I mutter, leaning back in the
seat, scowling.

Vance snorts, shaking his head, amused. He
says nothing about my comment, though, not that he has to. The
smirk says more than enough.

He thinks I’m full of shit.

He’s not wrong.

Kim may not be the best at keeping secrets,
but she’s there when it counts, and really, that’s all that
matters.

“You get caught up with work?” he asks after
a moment, cutting his eyes to me briefly, before focusing back on
the road.

“Almost,” I say. “I sent off the last draft
today. Once it’s approved I just need to make a few tweaks and send
the final files.”

He nods, hesitating as he quickly glances
over at me again. “Elena’s gonna be home on Saturday and we’re
planning a barbeque for her, nothing big, just a little welcome
home kind of thing with the guys. You should come.”

He wants me to go to Elena’s welcome home
barbeque?

“I … I don’t know,” I say hesitantly. “I
don’t even know her. She probably doesn’t want some stranger
hanging around when she hasn’t seen you guys in weeks.”

“Nonsense,” he says. “She’ll love having you
there.”

He says it so confidently that I can’t think
of a reason not to, so I shrug. “Okay, sounds fun.”

It takes ten minutes to get to Pita Den. I
wait in the truck as Vance runs in to grab our food. It doesn’t
take him long, less than five minutes, before he’s back in the
truck, and we’re on the road again.

As we drive, Vance fills me in on his
entirely unhelpful meeting with Trixie Starr.

She’s a nurse.

He’s pretty sure she knows who I am, though I
don’t have a clue how.

She’s not giving up anything on her man.

As far as leads go, she seems like a dead end
to me, but Vance is confident that Chad Miller is hanging around,
most likely staying at her place, hence the stakeout.

We end up at a park, across the street and
down a little from Trixie’s house. From our vantage point, we can
see the front of the house clearly, as well as Jase, who’s parked
at the curb a block and a half down. I can’t see Wes from our spot,
but we passed him on a side street on our way into the park,
keeping an eye on the back of the house.

“What happens now?” I ask, settling my pita
on my knees and unwrapping it.

Vance glances at me, amusement flashing in
his eyes. “We wait.”

I thought he’d been joking.

I was hoping he was joking.

I thought maybe there’d be gadgets to play
with, cool spy equipment to test out. But as I sit in the truck,
fiddling with the radio, I realize he meant it. All we can do now
is wait.

Hours pass. Long hours of nothing.

The sun sets, and the house we’re watching
stays quiet. No one comes in or out. No one turns on a light or
passes by a window.

Vance and I talk and talk and talk, about
nothing and everything. Parents: his are still around, living in
Florida. Siblings: he doesn’t have any. Favorite food: anything
barbequed. We hit topic after topic, and not unexpected, he already
knows most of my answers, and I only manage to surprise him once
when I confess that I’ve never eaten fish because I don’t like the
way it smells.

Jase and Wes send periodic text messages.
Updates, I guess, though there really hasn’t been anything to
update—yet.

But overall, this whole stakeout thing is
somewhat … boring. I guess he meant that, too, when he said it.

Sighing, I stretch in my seat, turning to
face him. “What exactly is your plan, you know, if we see him?”

Vance cocks an eyebrow at me. “You don’t
already know?”

“No. I mean, I can guess, but I don’t really
know, you know?”

He chuckles and leans back in the seat,
resting his head on the headrest. “Let’s hear your guess.”

“Um …” I smile bashfully, fluttering my
lashes. “You’ll use your badassness to scare him into leaving me
alone and maybe, hopefully pay for all the damages?”

He lets out a loud laugh and my eyes narrow
slightly.

“You think my badassness is scary?”

“Uh, yeah,” I say, cutting him an incredulous
look. “And so did that guy at the apartment the day Kim and I moved
in.”

“He was an asshole,” he mutters. “A punk with
no goddamn respect, and if I recall correctly, it was him grabbing
a handful of your ass that started the whole thing.”

I grimace. He’s right. I was carrying a large
vase, one my mother made before she died, struggling with the lobby
door, when some guy came up behind me. He smacked my ass as he all
but shoved me out of the way, and I dropped the vase, shattering
it.

Of course, Vance saw the whole thing.

He’d just pulled up and gotten out of his
truck when I shrieked out my surprise, and I swear it took only
seconds—mere seconds—for him to have the guy, who wasn’t small by
any means, spewing out apology after apology.

It was at that moment, I dubbed Vance badass
hottie, and five minutes later, I found out he was Kim’s
cousin.

“Fine, you’re not going to use your
badassness,” I say. “So what’s the real plan then?”

“We’re gonna ask him a few questions,” he
says, pausing as he chuckles again. “Then we’ll turn him over to
Cruz.”

I stare at him for a moment, blinking a few
times.

“Huh,” I say. “I suppose that could work,
too.”

Vance chuckles and I roll my eyes, leaning
forward once again to fiddle with the radio, flipping through the
stations. I switch through them all once, twice, three times,
before a familiar song hits my ears, causing me to laugh.

It’s that song.

The one from the bar.

The one Vance watched me dance to.

Instinctively, I start to move in my seat,
wiggling my hips against the leather, bobbing my head with the
beat.

Glancing at Vance, I laugh a little as I see
the recognition flare behind his eyes. He reaches over, turning it
up, his gaze glued to me.

I’m smiling.

I’m singing.

I’m moving to the beat.

I’m having fun.

He watches me intently, smirking, and I feel
my entire body heat under his gaze. I wonder if he knows what he’s
doing to me as his gaze rakes over me, dropping to my mouth,
staring at my lips as though the thought of kissing me suddenly
consumes him.

And then the song ends, and his mouth kicks
up in a sexy one-sided grin. “Fuck, I love watching you do that,”
he mutters, licking his lips. “Gotta download that song so I can
play it again and again and again.”

I grin, shaking my head. “Already done. I’ve
got it on my phone.”

My response makes him laugh. He leans into
me, and I think he’s going to kiss me, but he pauses mere inches
from my mouth, and whispers, “Good to know.”

I don’t know whether to laugh, or growl in
frustration. I start to tilt toward him, wanting that darn kiss,
when I stall, a movement in my peripheral vision catching my
attention.

“Vance?” I whisper, licking my suddenly dry
lips.

“Yeah?”

“Is that him?” I ask, pulling back abruptly.
“Jesus, I think it is. He’s actually here.”

Vance

In hindsight, bringing Piper along on a
stakeout may not have been the best idea.

I’m trying to pay attention to everything
going on around us, to stay vigilant and spot the asshole, and nab
him before he can do any more damage, but the girl sitting beside
me keeps distracting me. A light touch, a smile, a laugh; it’s all
a distraction.

A fucking incredible distraction.

From my seat in the truck, I can see three
blocks down in both directions and most of the park around us. It’s
a few minutes after eleven o’clock, and most of the houses are
already dark. The street itself is bathed in a muted glow from the
streetlights.

Piper’s abandoned her spot, pressed up
against the center console leaning toward me, to hover at the far
side of the truck, staring out the window and pointing into the
darkness.