Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck.

I held his gaze.

Then I told him, “Full can. Wet food. Cat bowls in the cupboard by the stove. She likes a clean one every day. And, by the way, I get out of the shower, before we hit the road, toast would be good. Don’t skimp on the butter and ignore the grape jelly. The kids eat that. I like orange marmalade and don’t skimp on that either.”

His head jerked to the side. “The kids?”

“Don’t fuck with me, partner, you know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Adam, Leslie and Theo. Neighbor’s kids,” he stated immediately. “Then there’s Josh and Dora, your dead partner’s kids.”

Oh yeah. He’d looked into me but he was still fishing.

I didn’t know what to make of that so I didn’t make anything of it.

“You get more visitors than the Pope,” he remarked.

Yeah, he’d looked into me.

My eyes went down to see Gun slink into the room, rubbing her fluffy side against Creed’s jeans-covered ankle.

Damn cat. Figured. She only liked me and Adam and now, apparently, Creed. She didn’t give the side-rub to anyone she didn’t like.

Shit.

I got rid of this asshole, me and my cat were having a chat.

I looked back up at Creed.

“Cat’s hungry,” I reminded him then I put my hands in my panties and yanked them down.

By the time I straightened, Creed was gone and I just caught Gun’s hind end rounding the door.

I didn’t bother closing the bathroom door to take my shower. He’d seen it before. It’d been years but he’d seen it. So had a number of other men.

Anyway, if he had a mind to my privacy, he’d keep well away and I needed that right about then.

Before I stepped in, I shouted, “Don’t forget the coffee! Strong!”

“Strong!” Tucker Fucking Creed shouted back.

Tucker Fucking Creed making coffee in my kitchen.

Jesus.

I got in the shower and kept it buried where it should be. No tequila. No bourbon. Nothing would work it out.

The job would get done then we would be done.

Then he would be gone and I would move on.

Again.

* * *

We stood in my front yard, me in a tight, ribbed, grass green tank, low rider jeans, wide brown belt, gun at the back and brown cowboy boots with a piece of toast in one hand, a travel mug of coffee in the other, Creed carrying another one of my mugs.

My mug in Creed’s long-fingered, veined hand with the stark, pale nicks of scars around his knuckles. Strong hands. Capable hands. Experienced hands.

Christ.

“Uh… no,” I told him. “I drive. You ride.”

“No offense, Sylvie, but you drive like a lunatic and the interior of your car was made for people like you, small who like to make a lot of noise. I’m not folding into that death trap. I drive. You ride.”

I stared at him. “That is not gonna happen.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Not me that’s got shit to do,” he reminded me.

Fuck!

“Seein’ as you’re part Grandpa, I’ll check my foot,” I allowed.

“And you’ll stop at stop signs.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“That would be, come to a complete halt.”

Fuck!

“God granted me peripheral vision, Creed. I can see someone coming. I’ll slow and roll through like normal. You’ll be fine.”

“Jesus, Sylvie, the slow and roll doesn’t work. A stop sign is put up for a reason.”

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes. “When did you get a stick planted up your ass?”

He cocked his head to the side and regarded me closely. “We talkin’ about our pasts now?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Okay, I’ll stop at stop signs,” I gave in.

“And you won’t turn on red if there’s a sign that says you can’t turn on red,” he kept pushing.

He so totally followed me.

Often.

Shit.

My stare turned to a glare, I bit off a huge chunk of buttery, marmalade coated toast and said sharply through it, “Fine.”

“Speed limit, as in, you’ll go the.”

I chewed, swallowed and asked through slitted eyes, “Jesus, are you a Grandpa?”

“Daughter’s twelve, son’s ten so no, not yet, thank fuck.”

I didn’t even blink. It cost me but I didn’t even blink.

Fuck, he had kids.

Fuck, that killed.

“Ten miles over,” I offered.

“Five miles,” he countered.

“Seven.”

He grinned and I didn’t blink again but that killed too. With me, he used to grin a lot, smile a lot, laugh a lot. Even so, each one was precious. He’d been beautiful. All of those transformed his features so he was magnificent.

Age and scars hadn’t changed that. Not even a little bit. He still had great, even, strong white teeth. Fantastic lips. Strong, expressive features.

Magnificent.

“Deal,” he grunted and moved to my girl.

I moved to her too and juggled my breakfast (even though it was past noon) in order to get in. With the coffee between my thighs and the toast between my teeth, I started her up and pulled out maybe a hair faster than was needed.

That said, that was how I usually pulled out.

“Jesus,” Creed muttered.

I bit back a smile, changed gears, shot forward on a screech of tires then took a bite out of my toast and drove one handed.

“Right, catch me up,” I ordered.

“You first,” he replied.

I glanced to the side.

Shit, Tucker Creed was sitting beside me in my car.

Shit!

I buried that and asked, “Me first, what?”

“You first. I’m ride-along, maybe it would be good to know what I’m ridin’ into.”

“Hit The Retreat. Check in at the office. If there’s time, check in on Serena. After that, Knight,” I told him.

“You still on The Retreat job?” he asked, exposing just how much he’d looked into me which meant just how often he’d followed me.

I’d never tagged a tail.

Damn.

“Man, I’m always on The Retreat job,” I informed him. “Every third asshole who cheats on his wife takes his bitch to The Retreat. My ass is in the parking lot there so often, management suggested they paint my name in a parking spot so it’ll be reserved.”

“Not good for business, a PI’s name in a parking spot,” Creed muttered.

“That’s why I declined. That’s me, looking out for the local adult resort.”

I heard his chuckle and it was different than I remembered too. Not just deep and smooth, the rough was in it. It made it sexier. A lot fucking sexier.

Shit.

“You ever been there?” he asked.

“Where?” I asked back.

“The Retreat,” he answered.

“Partner, were you talking in your sleep thirty seconds ago?”

“I meant as a client, not an investigator.”

Oh yeah, I had. Rubber mattresses. Fake silk sheets. Velvet comforters. Mirrors on the ceiling. Hot tubs in every room. “Environment chambers” where you could fuck in a gentle rain, breeze or both. Swings. Love machines. Steam rooms. Twelve channels of porn. Rooms available at matinee rates.

I’d so totally been there.

“So we are talking about our pasts?” I asked and he was silent. “Advice,” I went on. “You feel like an adventure, call the top in the environment chamber. Seems like it’d be awesome but that water hitting your face all the time is distracting.”

That got more silence, which worked for me because it meant he shut up.

It stopped working for me when it went on a long time. He had a month of a possible hostile takeover of Knight’s business to catch me up on and he couldn’t do it in sign language when my eyes were on the road. This was because I couldn’t see his hands and I didn’t know sign language.

I glanced his way again, mouth open to say something then I glanced straight ahead and shut my mouth.

I did this because his stubbled jaw was tight and his head was turned slightly to look out the side window.

Unhappy thoughts. Unhappy thoughts I did not give one shit about.

“Rule,” I said quietly into the car. “You don’t wanna know, don’t ask.”

“Deal,” he muttered immediately and that killed too.

I knew why. For some reason, it fucked him up that I’d had experience of The Retreat. Why this would be, I did not know. He disappeared on me and he’d done it nearly sixteen freaking years ago. He couldn’t think I’d been holding out, pining for him all that time. He’d looked into me, he knew I didn’t. At first, I didn’t have a choice. Then, I did and I sure as fuck took advantage of it.

I wasn’t going to think about that either.

“You wanna fill me in on what you’ve learned for the last month?” I asked as I kept moving us toward The Retreat.

“Yeah,” Creed answered. “You know Drake Nair?”

“Yup,” I replied.

“You know who he is to Knight?”

“Been in Denver awhile, Creed, and almost all that time, I’ve known Knight.”

“So you know Knight stole his stable and his club right out from under him.”

“Yup,” I repeated.

“And you know he’s back in town.”

“Didn’t until last night but yeah, Knight filled Rhash and me in. Rhash already knew. He flew under my radar. Nair’s half asshole, half moron and since most people can’t think very well with their ass, even though they try, he’s not much of a threat so can’t say I pay a lot of attention to him.”

“Asshole with money gets other people to think for him,” Creed replied as I took a turn onto Colfax.

“This is true,” I muttered before switching gears and shoving the last bite of toast in my mouth.

“Been watchin’, Nick hasn’t got near him. Nick doesn’t keep good company, though. He’s not doin’ blow all the time now but he doesn’t have great friends. Been too busy and, without a partner, only had so much time, couldn’t make a connection. That doesn’t mean the connection between Nick and Nair isn’t there.”

“Right,” I said through a full mouth then finished chewing and swallowing before I asked, “Now tell me what else has kept you busy.”

“Makin’ sure you and Rhashan Banks are clean.”

My head whipped to the side and I stared two full seconds before I looked back at the road feeling like I’d been punched in the gut.

I thought he’d looked into me because that was what I’d do. I had a prospective partner pinned to me, I’d know him inside and out before I got anywhere near the job.

I didn’t think for one second Knight set him on me.

Or Rhash.

“Knight set you on Rhash and me?”

“Knight said it was a waste of time. I investigated you and Rhashan. Shit like this, no stone unturned. He’s blinded by history and loyalty. He hired me because I’m not.”

“Well, just to confirm,” my voice was barbed, “neither of us would fuck Knight. Ever.”

“Any way that could be?” he asked and I glanced at him again before looking at the road.

“Don’t wanna know, partner, don’t ask,” I said quietly and felt his eyes on me.

“This shit, I need to know. He’s deep with his woman. You two got history I haven’t learned, affects everything, including us working together. You two hook up?”

“No,” I replied.

“Ever?” he asked.

“No,” I repeated.

“Wanted it?” he pushed. “Either one of you.”

“Yeah, absolutely. We discussed it, found we weren’t compatible but that was years ago, one night we both had too much to drink. The other part of that incompatibility is that, you fuck up what we got with sex, it’ll never be the same and what we got is worth never fucking up. You with me?”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Then I’ll make sure you’re totally with me. I’m tight with Anya too. We’re solid. She has no reason to know Knight and I even discussed that shit, even one night when we were getting hammered and letting it all hang out. She doesn’t need that thought in her head. He’s not deep with her, Creed, she’s his life. Their daughter is his life. His family is the most precious thing to him, a man who’s got everything so he’s also got a lot to choose from and his two girls are his choice. Do not fuck that and do not put me in the position where I’m even a little responsible for fucking that.”

“She the jealous type?” he asked.

“Don’t know and seriously do not want to find out. There’s even the barest possibility of losing that, Knight will lose me. I got two people who mean something to me, Creed, and he’s one of them. You take half of my world away from me, for sixteen years, you were a memory for me and that’s what I’ll make you for your kids too, except you’ll never stroll back into their bedrooms while they’re sleeping. You still with me?”