Actual Stop (21 page)

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Authors: Kara A. McLeod

BOOK: Actual Stop
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This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed to move. Yes, I was devastated in a way the definition of the word hadn’t quite prepared me for, but I also had someplace to be. If I didn’t show, the others would question, speculate upon, pick apart, and investigate my absence to the nth degree, and I wasn’t in the mood for that. I had to get a grip, push all recent events aside for a few hours, and go pretend to have a good time so I could dissolve into an emotional wreck later at my own leisure. Okay. I could do that. Probably.

I forced myself to step to the curb and raise one hand to hail a cab. I was a wreck and definitely in no state to operate a motor vehicle. I was also inclined to get rip-roaring, balls-to-the-wall, stupidly drunk, so it was better for everyone if I didn’t have access to a car. Just in case.

As a taxi pulled up, my work phone rang. I let loose a string of muttered curses as I tried to get into the newly arrived cab, answer the phone, stow Lucia’s cell in my purse, and not flash the driver all at the same time.

“O’Connor,” I said into the receiver, pressing it briefly to my shoulder to tell the driver the name and address of Allison’s hotel.

When I brought the phone back to my ear, I winced as a loud, almost-melodic cacophony of music and many voices raised in good cheer lanced through my eardrum. It sounded like the party was well under way.

“Hello?” a male voice yelled into my ear.

I grimaced and pulled the phone back too late to avoid a near-deafening “Hello?”

“Hello?” the voice said again.

“Who’s this?”

“Ryan?” the voice asked.

“Yeah. What’s up?” I was pretty sure it was Keith Abelard, but it was sort of hard to tell, what with the music and the screaming and the traffic noises on my end and all.

“Where the fuck are you?” Oh, yes. Definitely Keith.

“I’m just leaving the office now. Keep your shirt on.” I immediately became defensive but then reminded myself that he didn’t mean anything by his question, and he hadn’t contributed to my current mood.
Deep breaths, Ryan. Deep breaths
.

“Is that Ryan?” I heard someone else yell in the background. Several other voices joined in the shouting, and while I couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, the basics were pretty apparent. I was late. Very late. They’d started without me.

“Hurry up, Ryan. We’re all waiting.”

“And you’re all half-drunk.” I smiled fondly. The guys were nothing if not predictable, and their boisterous spirits were just what I needed to take my mind off the mess my life had imploded into during the past forty-eight hours. “Relax. I’ll be there in half an hour. Maybe forty-five minutes.”

“Shut up,” Keith yelled at someone, not bothering to take the phone away from his ear and almost bursting my eardrum. “I can’t hear her. Forty-five minutes?” he repeated, sounding confused.

“An hour, tops.” I gauged traffic as my cab driver and I made our way slowly but surely up the FDR.

“It doesn’t take that long to get to Piper’s from the office.”

“I know that. I have to make a stop first.”

“For every minute she’s late, she owes us all a shot,” someone else chimed in. I groaned as everyone else screamed their agreement, and I heard the clinking of glasses in the background. They were probably toasting that suggestion.

“What stop?” Keith demanded in between shushing noises, which apparently had less than no effect on the crowd.

“I have to pick up Allison.” And hit an ATM, it sounded like. I barely had the resources to pay for all the shots I was preparing to consume. I sure as hell didn’t have the cash on me to cover everyone else’s. And I’d learned the hard way never to throw down a credit card to cover a tab. That’s how you ended up with a five-hundred-dollar bar bill and no recollection of how you wound up on the floor in your apartment wearing only your bra and a hat. Or so I’d heard.

“Who?”

“Allison. The PPD lead.” I hated that I was without my own phone, as I’d wanted to send her a text letting her know I was en route, so she could be outside ready to go. I didn’t want to go anywhere near her hotel room. God only knew what sort of an ass I’d make of myself if I were alone with her. I’d probably burst into tears or something. And her seeing me cry once this visit was plenty.

“She’s still here?”

“No, I’m going to D.C. to get her.”

“Stop being a smart-ass.”

“Then stop asking me stupid questions. I’ll get there when I get there.”

“Okay, but hurry up.”

I heaved a bone-weary sigh as I hung up and leaned forward to talk to the driver. “Someone’s going to meet us at the curb when we get to the hotel,” I told him, raising my voice to make sure it carried over the din of the traffic and through the Plexiglas separating us. “Then I’d like you to take us to Piper’s.” I rattled the cross streets off the top of my head.

The only acknowledgment that I’d spoken was a sort of curt nod that might or might not have been directed at me. I sat back in the seat with a shrug and sent Allison a quick email from my work phone. Then I allowed my mind to wander as I stared out the window. Thoughts of the work I needed to accomplish over the next few days mingled with images of Lucia that faded into pictures of Allison, all of it going around and around until it made me a touch crazy. I shook my head violently as if to wipe my brain clean like an Etch-A-Sketch. I didn’t need to think tonight.

When we pulled up to the curb in front of The W, Allison was just stepping outside. Her well-worn, faded jeans appeared as though they’d been painted on her body; a form-fitting, red cotton tank top displayed a tantalizing amount of olive skin; and broken-in, scuffed black boots completed her casual outfit. Her hair was loose and cascaded to tickle the tops of her bare shoulders. She’d folded a light jacket over one arm, and an eager-looking smile played across her luscious lips.

My mind went blank, and a swarm of dragonflies took flight inside me, their virtual wings tickling the undersides of my rib cage deliciously. I trembled slightly and licked my lips. Well, if anyone could take my mind off the emotional grenade Lucia had just lobbed my way, it was Allison. I wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. I was too fried to think, and it didn’t really matter enough for me to try.

Self-consciously, I glanced down at myself. All I’d had available in my bag at the office had been a dark pair of indigo jeans, a black silk halter top that revealed just enough cleavage to get someone’s attention without being vulgar, and a pair of black, open-toed sling-backs. I’d piled my hair up into a loose, messy knot on the back of my head and made sure I covered the angry-looking scab on my forehead with some strategically placed wisps of bang.

Getting ready, I’d been grateful that we were still between summer and autumn when warm temperatures weren’t unexpected, so I wouldn’t need to go home to retrieve a warmer outfit or, worse, don work clothes. Now, however, I felt silly and a little exposed. Normally, I thought nothing of dressing up a little when I went out after work—I was a girl, after all, and occasionally I did like to doll up—but today I was afraid it might seem like I was trying too hard.

I drew in a tumultuous breath and swallowed as I waved to Allison. As I leaned over to open the door for her from the inside of the cab, my heart stopped beating when I glanced up and noticed her eyes flickering to what she could see of the tops of my breasts. A blaze ignited beneath my skin, but that couldn’t compare to the heat that rose in my cheeks when she lifted her eyes back up to mine and I recognized the flash of desire in them.

Allison held my stare as she slid into the seat next to me and then allowed her eyes to travel the length of my body. I felt that visual exploration as keenly as I would a physical caress, and it sparked an involuntary hum of arousal in me.

“Wow, Ryan. You look beautiful.”

That declaration robbed me of the ability to inhale, and I had to clear my throat. “I was actually just thinking the same thing about you.”

It was Allison’s turn to flush, as much as she was able with her complexion. “I feel somewhat underdressed.”

“You’re perfect,” I told her honestly. An all-encompassing need to kiss her suddenly seized me, an ache that throbbed dully in every cell of my body. Disregarding that impulse would be like ignoring the desire to breathe. Fortunately, she distracted me by speaking.

“Do you have a curfew tonight?”

“Nope.”

“Your better half isn’t expecting you?”

I grimaced in response to a searing stab of pain and managed to swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat. “I’m flying solo these days.”

Understanding flooded Allison’s expression, tinged with a hint of sympathy and something else I couldn’t readily identify. “So it was more than just a fight.”

“Yup.” I really didn’t want to get into this right now and hoped my short answer would discourage further discussion.

“Is it something that can be fixed?”

“No.”

“You okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.”
Aside from the fact that the girl I was seeing slept with someone else and then broke up with me under the pretense that she thought I cheated on her, but I can’t stop thinking about you, and I still feel like an asshole because of it, I’m just dandy.

Allison shook her head, which caused stray locks of her hair to tumble down across her forehead. “Liar.”

I reached out before I knew what I was going to do and gently brushed those tresses out of her eyes, reveling in the slide of her silken skin beneath my fingertips. Allison blinked, obviously startled, but she didn’t appear upset.

The cab driver slammed on the brakes and screamed loudly, shattering the moment and catapulting me back into my senses. I jerked my hand from Allison’s face as though I’d been burned. What the hell was I doing? I really needed to get a freaking grip. Never mind the fact that I shouldn’t be touching Allison at all. Now was definitely not the time.

“So, where are you taking me?” Allison’s voice was light, her tone nonchalant, and I was instantly jealous. My own emotions were careening wildly out of my control, and I could’ve used a dash of nonchalance. Hell, even a pinch would have felt like a lot.

“Piper’s.”

Allison grinned. “You guys still go there for your wheels-up parties?”

“Of course. They take really good care of us. Oh, but I should warn you. I got a call from the thundering horde while I was on my way here. They sounded like they’d been at it for a bit. I can’t imagine they can maintain that pace much longer.”

“Good.”

Surely I imagined that Allison’s tone contained an undercurrent of satisfaction mixed with desire. Right? It had to be. It was a classic case of seeing—or in this case hearing—what I so desperately wanted.

I forced myself to focus on paying our accommodating, if slightly suicidal, driver and deliberately avoided Allison’s intense gaze. But the fire burning in my cheeks spoke volumes.

A slight tug on my arm forced me to stop my trek to the pub’s entrance, and I turned to face my captor with a vague wringing sensation just below my rib cage.

Allison’s eyes were bottomless as she stared at me, and I felt myself falling. I glanced down to my feet to make sure the pavement was still solid beneath me. Allison recaptured my attention by resting a hand on my shoulder, making me return to myself and fly apart all at once.

“I’m going to make sure you forget everything tonight.”

Promises, promises.

Chapter Eighteen

The place had a good-sized crowd considering it was a Monday night, but Allison and I didn’t have much trouble making our way to the bar. I’d predicted correctly that the guys were all well and truly in their cups, so I wasn’t surprised that the bartender, Sean, spotted me first.

“What’ll it be, Ryan? The usual?” His voice still held a trace of a true Irish brogue, though he’d been in the States for years, and his smile could charm a leprechaun out of his pot of gold. “I hear you’ve something to celebrate.”

Keith must’ve caught Sean’s words because his head snapped around in my direction. Had he been sober, that might not have been a problem, but his inebriated body wasn’t quite up to speed with his wildly swiveling head, and he nearly fell off the bar stool and onto Allison. It was a good thing Allison saw it coming and reached out to steady him, or he’d have ended up on the floor. A good thing for all of us, really. Keith was a big boy. It would’ve been tough to haul him back up again. I knew. I’d done it many times.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed to Allison when she glanced at me. She smiled back at me, and I almost melted.

Keith’s face broke into a huge grin as his unfocused eyes finally sent the message to his alcohol-soaked brain that I’d arrived. “Hey, Ryan, you made it. ’S about damn time.” His words were a little slurred.

“Yup. Told you I would.” I turned to Sean to answer his question. “The usual would be great, thanks. And a Tanqueray and tonic, please, with a lime and two maraschino cherries.”

“No, no, no!” Keith shouted, slamming one giant paw down on the bar. Some of the guys snickered and nudged one another, but he was undaunted. He turned his faux wrath to the bartender. “Ryan gets an Irish car bomb. On me.” His tone was insistent.

Sean cut his eyes my way, as though checking to see whether the change was okay. I shrugged. “I’ll drink it. But just the one. And keep the Tanqueray and tonic.”

“Coming right up.”

Now that he’d gotten his way, Keith turned his back on me and busied himself making certain everyone else had a drink. Sean set my Guinness and shot on the bar next to the Tanqueray, which I immediately handed to Allison.

“One Irish car bomb.”

“Isn’t that a little politically incorrect, Sean? I thought we weren’t calling them that anymore.”

It was Sean’s turn to shrug. “I tried to get them to stop, but after a while, the fight just went out of me. You know how hard-headed cops can be.”

I grinned and nodded as I tossed some cash on the bar. “Yeah, we’re all pains in the ass. Thanks, Sean.” I turned so my right side was nestled against the bar and picked up my shot.

Keith stood on the rungs of his bar stool so he towered over everyone and held up his glass. “Way to go, Ryan. The Big Guy went out the same way he came in. You managed not to get him killed. Good job.”

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