Whiskey Sour (15 page)

“I just told my contact to give you whatever they had available.
Beggars can’t be choosers,” Savage said, arching a brow. “You’ll only be there for one treatment. The government doesn’t have the budget for that place.”

“Not many people do.
I’m surprised you’re allowed to do this at all.”

“I haven’t turned in my expense report yet. I like for things like this to be a surprise,” he said. “
There are several high ranking FBI directors on that client list. I figure they’re going to be so busy cleaning up the mess from the fallout that they won’t even notice my receipts.”

“Good thinking.” I pushed back from the table and grabbed my purse. “Well, if that’s all for the day, I think I’m going to head home. I’ve got packing to do and a couple of things to take care of.
Thanks again for finding me the house,” I told Savage. “I talked to your friend on the phone and everything is taken care of. She said I could move in as soon as I wanted.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Savage said, cutting his eyes to Nick. “And let me know if you need help moving.
He’s not the only one who can help you pack.”

My eyes widened in alarm and Kate snickered, but quickly turned it into a cough. I was pretty sure I heard Nick growl from behind me. I thought the best course of action would be to escape before the first blood was shed, but Kate had a different idea.

She caught my hand before I could walk out. “If you work tonight I want you to call me. No matter how late it is. No lame excuses this time.”

The green pallor of her face only stood out more with the directness of her gaze. I’d been giving her nothing but
noncommittal answers every time she’d asked about what I’d seen Mike doing. She knew I was stalling, and in truth, I was. I didn’t want to do this particular job, especially since Nick had all but confirmed Mike’s guilt.

I nodded once
and continued out to the street. It was then I remembered I’d ridden in with Nick. I heaved out a sigh and turned around to go back in, but he stepped through the door and held my gaze for a minute.

“
You know I’m probably going to have to kill that man before this is all said and done.”

“Why? Because he’s poaching on your territory? That doesn’t sound like the reaction of a man who’s sort of involved in a serious relationship.”

We stared each other down, and if I’d had the money I would have headed straight for the nearest Dairy Queen. No wonder people started letting their bodies go after marriage. Stuffing my face has been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since facing the relationship drama. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like living with it twenty-four seven.

“
I’ll take you home if we can call a truce for ten minutes,” Nick finally said. “And you’ve got that crazy look about you. I think it’d be a good idea to take a detour by Dairy Queen on the way.”

He had a look in his eye I couldn’t really interpret. It might have been indigestion. Or it could have just been me.
I had that effect on a man. But he knew me well enough to know when I needed ice cream. That sounded like a serious relationship to me.

Neither of us spoke
after we got our dip cones and drove into Whiskey Bayou. I hunched down in the seat, hoping no one would see me and stare. I’d managed to go three days without being reminded that I’d been fired from the only job I’d ever known. And I’d managed to do it mostly sober.

My mother was bound to get phone calls once she got back home about Nick’s truck being parked in the driveway all night, but that seemed pretty minor in comparison to all the other gossip about me at the moment.

“This has the potential to be an awkward situation,” Nick said, driving right past my mother’s house. If he drove very much further south we’d be up to our wheels in swamp.

“I don’t know why you’d say that,” I said. “Everything seems perfectly normal to me. Where are you going?”

“Just thought we could use a change of scenery. I am on vacation after all. Or at least I will be after I call it in. It’s been three years since I’ve taken any vacation time. I plan to enjoy it.”

He pulled the truck just to the edge of the bank of the bayou under a weeping willow
that hid us partially from view. He left the car on so we didn’t die of heat stroke and unbuckled his seat belt so he could turn towards me.

“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “This is awkward. Especially since it looks like you’ve got a gun in your pocket, even though I know you didn’t put on a weapon this morning.”

“It’s your underwear. I’ve been thinking about it under that dress all day.”

“
You seriously can’t be flirting with me right now. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pissed at you.”

“I noticed, but that’s still hot for some reason. I think it’s because anger makes your nipples hard.”

“Then they must be like tiny knives right now.”

“Come here,” he said
, pulling my rigid body against his until I was sprawled across his lap.

“Let me go
, you Neanderthal. Why is it that none of the men I know can fight properly? You can’t just manhandle me into submission.”

“You can’t seriously be mad about what happened today. So I panicked a little. Sue me.”

“You panicked a little?” I asked, eyebrows raised.

“It was a gut instinct. I’ve been down that road before.”

Once upon a time when Nick was fresh out of the military and a rookie cop he’d been married to a woman he harbors no warm or nostalgic feelings for at all. I relaxed a little because his reaction in DeLuce’s store was starting to make sense.

“Right, well, maybe it had more to do with you treating me as more of a fuck buddy than a girlfriend.”

He held me tighter when I tried to pull away. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Chalk it up to a moment of insanity. I’m only a man.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to find a comfortable position with the gun in his pocket poking me in the hip. His fingers
pulled at the stretchy fabric of the top of my dress, and his eyes got that look that meant we were about to reach the point of no return.

“And what we have between us is serious,” he said. “I’m feeling very serious
right now.”

I didn’t want to give in too easily, but I was feeling pretty serious at the moment as well. And he was right. What we had between us was good. We still had a lot of growing to do.

“It’d be almost a sin to not take advantage of this moment,” he said, pushing back the seat so his legs stretched all the way out. “We’ve got a nice secluded spot and I’ve got good shocks on my truck. What more could you ask for?”

“To not have the sheriff become as familiar with my body parts as my gynecologist
,” I said automatically. “The sight of Sheriff Rafferty looking through the window is enough to wither me right up.”

He nipped at my lower lip and all the synapses in my brain started to sizzle. I couldn’t remember why I’d been mad or the points I’d wanted to bring up about our relationship.
I just wanted his hands on me. Now that we’d finally gotten past months of foreplay to the real deal, it seems I was turning into some kind of sex maniac.

“
I’m not easy, you know.” I shifted so he could push my dress around my hips and I could straddle his thigh. My flip-flops had fallen to the floorboard and his hands were hot on my waist.

“I’ve waited four months for this. Believe me, I know.”

“It seems to me that if I’m going to risk my reputation by getting caught, the least you can do is help me pack up my stuff and move. Think of all the rooms we’ll have to christen in my new place.”

He pulled the elastic down on my top and hummed low in the back of his throat at the sight of my breasts.
My eyes crossed as he took a nipple into his mouth and I ripped frantically at his dress shirt, flinging buttons so I could feel his skin against mine. He was wearing way too many clothes and we both fought to get his belt undone and relieve the pressure behind his zipper.

The glass was appropriately fogged and we were both panting for br
eath by the time the last of our clothes was shed.

“
I’ll make you a deal,” Nick said, his fingers tightening on my hips as I sucked on his earlobe.

“I’m dying here,” I whimpered.
“Why are you talking?”

“
I’ll help you pack
and
I’ll pay for a moving company to unload your stuff if you’ll do that thing I like. Otherwise, this is going to last about four seconds.”

I knew how he felt. I was ready to implode and he hadn’t even gotten inside me yet. I think I might have been turned on by the possibility of getting caught. I’m not really sure what that says about me.

I smiled and kissed my way down his chest until my head rested in his lap. “You drive a hard bargain, Detective Dempsey.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

***

No one could ever say Nick Dempsey wasn’t a man of his word. After our roadside canoodling
, followed by a few hours of packing, takeout pizza, and another canoodle, Nick decided he was pretty much spent. He called his captain and arranged to take a few vacation days, not mentioning the fact he was working off the books with a renegade FBI agent, and then he passed out in my bed watching Duck Dynasty.

I’d had a pretty full day, but to me, orgasms were like downing energy boosters, so I was revved and ready for action
. The piddly amount of clothes and other things I had in my room were already packed in boxes, the kitchen was scrubbed and all signs of my wild weekend were gone. I had nothing else to occupy my time other than work. I couldn’t get Kate and Mike out of my head.

It was a quarter to ten and I dialed Kate’s number, a
lmost hoping she didn’t answer. Luck wasn’t on my side.

“I thought I’d go out and do a little
surveillance work tonight,” I told her in lieu of a greeting.

“Better hurry. He’ll be off work soon.”

“I’m heading out the door now,” I said.

I looked in on Nick to make sure he was asleep, and left him a note on my desk. I borrowed the keys to
his truck and slipped out of the house. I figured he wouldn’t have left them hanging out of his pants pocket if he didn’t want me to have access to them. And after I’d done that thing he liked, he should probably give me carte blanche from now on as far as borrowing his stuff.

“Are you sure you want me to do this, Kate? Maybe you should be the one to take this.”

“That’s the last thing I need to do. I’m armed, remember.”

“Good point
.”

“I need to know, one way or the other so I can get on with my life.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

We disconnected and I slid into the driver’s seat of Nick’s truck, inhaling the heated scent of leather and man. This was a much better idea than taking my Volvo on a stakeout. And the fact that it was black would help me blend into the darkness. At least that’s the story I was sticking to.

I was cutting it close as far as getting to the station in time to follow Mike when he left, and he was just getting into his truck when I parked in my spot down the street. I did like I had the time before and waited until he was at the stop sign a block away before I turned on my lights and followed behind him.

I didn’t have Rosemarie chattering beside me this time and the silence was beginning to get on my nerves, so I checked to see what Nick had in the CD player. My mouth dropped open as something with a lot of strings and brass shredded the speakers. Apparently Nick was multifaceted. I’d never once considered he’d be a fan of classical music.

The problem with classical music was that it was impossible to sing along with, so as I trailed behind Mike, I found myself making up lyrics to go along with the music. I had a lot more respect for Elmer Fudd’s
Kill The Wabbit
after testing my lyrical chops on whatever was coming out of the speakers.

I couldn’t take it anymore and finally ejected the CD, feeling more human as Maroon 5 smacked me in the face. We’d been driving a long time, longer than the trip had taken the night before to his lady cop’s house. I frowned as I followed him
out of Savannah and into Chatham County. Surely Mike didn’t have more than one lady. That seemed like overkill. He had to know Kate would castrate him at best if she ever caught him cheating.

He pulled into the driveway of a little Spanish style bungalow, and I quickly parked behind a van and killed the lights. I grabbed my binoculars and focused in on Mike as he got of his truck and reached in the back for a black duffle bag. I was guessing he was planning on making this one an all-nighter. Asshole.

I waited until he rang the doorbell and a plump older woman came to the door. I wouldn’t have categorized her as a cougar, but she was probably ten years older than Mike, and she looked like everyone’s favorite Sunday school teacher. Those were always the wild ones behind closed doors.

I put the camera strap around my neck and slipped out of the truck, locking the doors behind me.
I wasn’t exactly dressed for stealthing—cutoff shorts, a tank top and my flip flops—and I wasn’t so sure about my ability to convince anyone who saw me that I was a tourist passing through after ten o’clock at night.