Get Lucky. Suzanne BrockmannЧитать онлайн книгу.
know damn well what this is about. You figure you can keep me happy by throwing me a sexual bone—no pun intended. And yes, your kisses are quite masterful, but just the same—no thanks.”
He tried to feign innocence and then indignation. “You think that…? Wait, no, I would never try to—”
“What?” she interrupted. “I’m supposed to believe that crap about ‘isn’t it crazy? This attraction—you feel it, too?”’ She laughed in disbelief. “Sorry, I don’t buy it, pal. Guys like you hit on women like me for only two reasons. It’s either because you want something—”
“I’m telling you right now that you’re wrong—”
“Or you’re desperate.”
“Whoa.” It was his turn to laugh. “You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?”
“Look me in the eye,” she said tightly, “and tell me honestly that your last girlfriend wasn’t blond, five-foot-ten and built like a supermodel. Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve always had a thing for flat-chested women with big hips.” Syd didn’t let him answer. She went back into the house, raising her voice so he could hear her. “I’ll catch a cab back to the police-station parking lot.”
She heard him turn off the grill, but then he followed her. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll give you a ride to your car.”
Syd pushed her way out the front door. “Do you think you can manage to do that without embarrassing us both again?”
He locked it behind him. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you or offended you or—”
“You did both, Lieutenant. How about we just not say anything else right now, all right?”
He stiffly opened the passenger-side door to his truck and stood aside so that she could get in. He was dying to speak, and Syd gave him about four seconds before he gave in to the urge to keep the conversation going.
“I happen to find you very attractive,” Luke said as he climbed behind the wheel.
Two and a half seconds. She knew he’d give in. She should have pointedly ignored him, but she, too, couldn’t keep herself from countering.
“Yeah,” she said. “Right. Next you’ll tell me it’s my delicate and ladylike disposition that turns you on.”
“You have no idea what’s going on in my head.” He started his truck with a roar. “Maybe it is.”
Syd uttered a very non-ladylike word.
The lieutenant glanced at her several times, and cranked the air-conditioning up a notch as Syd sat and stewed. God, the next few weeks were going to be dreadful. Even if he didn’t hit on her again, she was going to have to live with the memory of that kiss.
That amazing kiss.
Her knees still felt a little weak.
He pulled into the police-station parking lot a little too fast and the truck bounced. But he remembered which car was hers and pulled up behind it, his tires skidding slightly in the gravel as he came to a too-swift stop.
Syd turned and looked at him.
He stared straight ahead. It was probably the first time he’d ever been turned down, and he was embarrassed. She could see a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks.
She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
After she didn’t move for several seconds, he turned and looked at her. “This is your car, right?”
She nodded, traces of feeling sorry turning into hot anger. “Well?”
“Well, what?” He laughed ruefully. “Something tells me you’re not waiting for a good-night kiss.”
He wasn’t going to tell her. He’d had no intention of telling her, the son of a bitch.
Syd glared at him.
“What?” he said again. “Jeez, what did I do now?”
“Eleven o’clock,” she reminded him as sweetly as she could manage. “Skippy’s Harborside?”
Guilt and something else flickered in his eyes. Disappointment that she’d found out, no doubt. Certainly not remorse for keeping the meeting a secret. He swore softly.
“Don’t make me go over your head, Lieutenant,” Syd warned him. “I’m part of your team, part of this task force.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean you need to participate in every meeting.”
“Yes, it does.”
He laughed. “Lucy McCoy and I are friends. This meeting is just an excuse to—”
“Exchange information about the case,” she finished for him. “I heard her phone message. I would have thought it was just a lovers’ tryst myself, but she mentioned what’s-his-name, Bobby, would be there.”
“Lovers’ tryst…?” He actually looked affronted. “If you’re implying that there’s something improper between Lucy and me—”
Syd rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s a little obvious there’s something going on. I wonder if she knows what you were trying to do with me. I suppose she couldn’t complain because she’s married to—”
“How dare you?”
“Your…what did you call it? XO? She’s married to your XO.”
“Lucy and I are friends.” His face was a thundercloud—his self-righteous outrage wasn’t an act. “She loves her husband. And Blue…he’s…he’s the best.”
His anger had faded, replaced by something quiet, something distant. “I’d follow Blue McCoy into hell if he asked me to,” Luke said softly. “I’d never dishonor him by fooling around with his wife. Never.”
“I’m sorry,” Syd told him. “I guess… You just… You told me you never take anything too seriously, so I thought—”
“Yeah, well, you were wrong.” He stared out the front windshield, holding tightly to the steering wheel with both hands. “Imagine that.”
Syd nodded. And then she dug through her purse, coming up with a small spiral notebook and a pen. She flipped to a blank page and wrote down the date.
Luke glanced at her, frowning slightly. “What…?”
“I’m so rarely wrong,” she told him. “When I am, it’s worth taking note of.”
She carefully kept her face expressionless as he studied her for several long moments.
Then he laughed slightly, curling one corner of his mouth up into an almost-smile. “You’re making a joke.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not.” But she smiled and gave herself away. She climbed out of the truck. “See you tonight.”
“No,” he said.
“Yes.” She closed the door and dug in her purse for her car keys.
He leaned across the cab to roll down the passenger-side window. “No,” he said. “Really. Syd, I need to be able to talk to Lucy and Bob without—”
“Eleven o’clock,” she said. “Skippy’s. I’ll be there.”
As she got into her car and drove away, she glanced back and saw Luke’s face through the windshield.
No, this meeting wasn’t going to happen at Skippy’s at eleven. But the time couldn’t be changed—Lucy McCoy had said she was on duty until late.
But if she were Navy Ken, she’d call Lucy and Bobby what’s-his-name and move the location—leaving Syd alone and fuming at Skipper’s Harborside at eleven o’clock.
Bobby