Jill Shalvis - Serving Up Trouble

The water turned off.

The door opened. She stood there wearing nothing but his towel wrapped around her delectable body. Lush, wet curves plumped out of the top of the towel while her tanned, toned thighs showed out the bottom. The towel was a tad too big for him to see anything else.

She put her hand to his chin and lifted his gaze so it met hers. “Is your moment of panic gone now?”

He opened his mouth, but he’d never lied in his life and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.

“I see,” she said quietly, and walked past him. Halfway to the bed, she dropped the towel.

His tongue nearly fell out of his mouth as she bent for her panties. “It’s…somewhat gone,” he managed to croak out.

“Somewhat isn’t good enough.” She stepped into her dress and pulled it up the length of her body, then started on the long row of buttons.

“I know a way that would greatly help,” he said, and when she turned to look him over, he realized he was standing there bare-ass naked.

She cocked her head and, while she smiled, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Tempting, but…” She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t intend to push myself on you. Will you take me to work, please?”

Push herself on him? Hell, he was willing to beg. “Work isn’t a good idea, not until we get a hold of this guy.”

She tossed back her wet hair and put her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do, take me around with you all day long?”

Terrifying how tempting that sounded. “No, but you don’t have to go out in public and be a target. We’re going to get him, probably today.”

“You’re that close?”

“We’re that close.”

“I’m going to work, Sam. I’ll be fine there.” She slipped into her sandals. Used the towel that had been covering her body to dry her hair. Pulled up the blankets they’d tossed aside in their heated passion.

All without looking at him. He looked at her though, plenty. She smelled like his soap, his shampoo. And though she was entirely covered, he ached for her to be warm and naked and plastered against him, as she had been all night long.

But she was upset, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that was his fault. So he shoved his legs into his discarded jeans, wincing as he fastened them over his erection, and went to her.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, resisting, but he turned her to face him.

“You’re angry.”

“Frustrated.” She finally looked at him, her eyes filled with some thing that made him swallow hard. “And I just realized I’m never going to reach you, not the way I want to.”

Regret was a two-fisted punch. “Angie-”

“Yeah, I know. Take me to work, Sam. I think we both need the space.”

Space was exactly what he needed. Actually, he had no idea what he needed anymore.

Sam pulled up in front of the café and turned to Angie, looking like he needed coffee in the worst way.

Angie released her seat belt, reached for the door handle, then sighed and sat back.

She couldn’t leave like this. He was miserable. She was miserable. All that misery radiated through out the truck.

Worse, it wasn’t his fault. He’d given her everything he could. She knew that.

She just wanted more.

Not fair to him, not fair at all. She’d known the rules when she’d made love with him. She’d gone into it with her eyes wide open.

And she would not hurt him simply because he couldn’t be what she wanted.

“Promise you’ll wait for me to pick you up after your shift,” he said. “That you won’t even think about going back to your apartment without me.”

“Sam-”

“Promise me, Angie.”

She stared up into his tense face. He hadn’t taken the time to shave, and the stubble on his jaw added to his edgy, dangerous expression. The black jeans and black T-shirt only lent credence to the fact.

But he didn’t scare her. He never could. Nor could she resist him, it seemed. With another sigh, she leaned in and put her mouth to the bunched muscle on his jaw.

From deep in his throat came a low, rough sound. A helpless sound.

And her heart squeezed. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to be touched by her, but he was. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was. “Angie, promise me.”

She replaced her mouth with her hands, cupping his face as she pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. “I promise to let you be my hero.”

“I mean it.”

So tough. Trying to be so distant. But his eyes gave him away. “I mean it, too.”

He stared at her for a long moment, as if assessing her for honesty.

She kissed him again, on the lips this time, very softly, very gently. “Have a good day.”

He groaned and set his forehead to hers. “Damn it, I want to be mad at you. Don’t ruin it for me.”

She slid her arms around him and hugged him close. “I won’t.”

He groaned again, but his arms came around her, too, warm and sure and strong. He slid his jaw against hers. “I want you to be safe. Do you understand that? God, you’re really driving me crazy.”

“I know.” She sank her fingers into his hair and lifted her face to see his. “I don’t mean to. I love you, Sam.” Gently she put her fingers to his lips, before he could react. “I just wanted you to know.” Kissing him one last time, she grabbed her purse and left the truck.

Heart pounding, palms damp with sweat, Sam watched Angie walk away from him toward the café.

Say some thing to her.

Anything.

But he didn’t, and she vanished inside without a glance back.

She loved him. Just like that. She loved him.

And she’d said it so…sweetly. So damn easily. So genuinely his heart clenched again, even tighter.

He nearly ran a red light. Twice. Cars honked at him. Lifting an apologetic hand and feeling like an idiot, he told himself to get a grip. He was a cop. He had important things to think about.

But nothing came to mind. Nothing at all.

Because nothing was more important than this, than her, and he knew it.

Angie smiled, laughed and talked during her shift, as always. But unlike always, her mind was else where.

She kept picturing the mixture of panic and befuddlement on Sam’s face as she’d left him that morning. Kept thinking about the reaction she’d hoped for, and hadn’t gotten, to her proclamation.

Well, she should have known better. She did know better.

And yet oddly enough she didn’t regret a thing.

After her shift, he was there waiting for her, just as promised. She’d expected no less. He got out of his car and opened the door for her. Got back in and drove.

All wordlessly.

She expected him to take her home. She expected him to get rid of her as soon as humanly possible.

She didn’t expect him to drive up to a nice outdoor barbecue place, where they got a table with such ease she knew he’d made reservations ahead of time.

Which made this…premeditated.

The nerves kicked up a gear.

The live band played too loud for talking-probably not a bad thing. The music was good, and though there was much unspoken between them, Angie felt…happy.

They danced.

That he even knew how to do so startled her, but they found their own rhythm together. And when, during a slow number, he rubbed his jaw to hers while holding her in those amazing arms of his, her eyes welled.

“Don’t,” he whispered in her ear, his hands moving slowly up and down her back.

“No, it’s okay.” She managed a watery smile. “It’s just that…I really like this.”

“Yeah.” He bent, put his lips to hers for a gentle, slow kiss. “Me, too.”

He took her to his place after that, still quiet as he led her into his bedroom. To his bed.

She lifted her arms for him, but he didn’t follow her down, not immediately. First he lit candles. Put on some soft music. Kicked off his shoes, moved close and pulled off his shirt.

He was beautiful, and in spite of everything, she ached for him. Then slowly, so slowly she ached all the more, he slid off her clothes, taking care to kiss every inch of flesh he exposed, until she lay before him, open to his gaze, quivering and tight with need.

He kicked off the rest of his things and Angie could only sigh because Sam by candlelight was the most magnificent thing she’d ever seen. Hard and sleek, he was poised over her, the muscles in his arms quivering as he tried to hold back.

But she didn’t want him to hold back. Not ever. So she arched up and slid her body to his. Chest to chest, thighs to thighs, and every where in between, until he let out a harsh groan.

Towering over her, he looked down, his eyes aglow with need and affection and hunger…and the same bafflement that always broke her heart.

He still didn’t know what to do with her.

But she knew what to do with him. “Love me,” she whispered, pulling him down to her, opening her legs to make room for his body, loving how he felt between her thighs, all hard and throbbing. For her.

Still, he tried to hold back. “Angie-”

“With your body, Sam. That’s all. Just love me.”

Closing his eyes on a groan, he blindly searched out her mouth and did just that.

Loved her until the first hint of dawn.

The next morning, Sam masked his panic well, but Angie still felt it and, this time, ignored it. After his telling her they hoped to close in on the case by that night at the latest, she walked into the café alone.

Her boss was chopping up a red pepper, singing at the top of her lungs to her favorite country station and keeping an eye on the boiling pot on the stove.

“Whew, it’s a chilly one.” Angie hugged herself and moved closer to the stove, wondering if she would ever feel as warm as she had in Sam’s arms. Wondering if she would ever get the chance to feel them around her again.

Josephine turned down the radio and gave her a long once-over. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh…nothing.” Angie put on her apron and tried to believe it.

“And nothing, I suppose, is why your chin is dragging on the ground.” Josephine stirred the pot, which emitted a delicious scent. “You didn’t get attacked in a bank again.”

“No.”

“Your apartment?”

“I wasn’t there last night.”

“Ah.” Josephine stirred some more. “You were with your wow cop.”

Angie looked out the window into the bright sun spearing through the fog and sighed. “He’s not my cop.”

“You make love last night?”

A little laugh escaped Angie. “That’s a bit personal, don’t you think?”

“Did you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Honey, if you’re not sure, then I’m really worried about you.”

“I made love,” Angie said quietly. “I’m just not sure he did.”

“Ah.” Josephine stirred some more and nodded. “You think it was just sex for him.”

Angie watched a couple walk down the street in the early-morning light, holding hands, laughing. Kissing. And said nothing because of the lump in her throat.

“Honey, you know, I don’t like to push.”

That got a laugh out of her. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh, stop. Maybe I push, just a little.” Josephine sniffed. “But I care about you.”

“I know.” Angie shoved away her melancholy and turned to smile. “I know. And I’ll be fine.”

“That man, he cares about you. Very much.”

“He doesn’t want to.”

“He’s afraid.” When Angie looked at her in surprise, Josephine nodded. “Just because he’s big and tough doesn’t mean he can’t fear. Matters of the heart terrify him. You need to be patient, that’s all. And don’t ever give up, not on some thing you want this much.”

She did want him. With all her heart she wanted to believe it could happen, but there seemed to be so much stacked against them. “How do you know so much?”

“I’m ancient, that’s how. Patience, Angie. You don’t have a lot of that, but you need to try.”

Angie laughed again, and oddly enough, felt a little better.

“Yes,” said Josephine, slowly nodding, watching her. “This time around you’re going to be just fine.”

Sam spent the morning with Luke. No less than a dozen times he pulled out his cell phone and started to dial Angie.

And about a dozen times he swore colorfully and stuck the thing back in his pocket.

“You always talk dirty to your cell phone?” Luke asked.

“It’s a new habit.” This was asinine, this in ability to do anything other than think of her. It had to stop.

But all he could think was, why hadn’t he tried to tell her how much he cared about her?

He told himself they’d have plenty of time to talk later, and during that later, in which he planned on having her naked and beneath him, he’d try to tell her then.

If only he could figure out how to put it into words.