Dirty Trick (10 page)

Her chest went tight as she thought of the last time he’d been out on a call. It had been more than a week ago, and she still wasn’t over it. His team had gone in to back up the PD’s narcotics unit during a big drug raid. The “chemists” inside got tipped off somehow and, in their haste to hide the evidence, got sloppy. The whole meth lab blew and a huge fire had broken out. She’d seen it on the news and had known exactly how serious it was. She’d been climbing the walls waiting for him to pull into the driveway that night. As soon as she’d heard his car, she’d run next door to check on him and nearly keeled over with relief that he was okay.

And what is that?

Because they were friends, and she cared about him. It was nothing more than that, tingles be damned.

She tucked her feet under her butt and picked up the remote. Originally, she’d planned to go over some new client dossiers, but her brain was buzzing like a swarm of mosquitoes over a swamp, and she highly doubted she could focus on anything at all, never mind work.

She’d resigned herself to watching a mindless repeat of
Say Yes to the Dress
when her cell phone buzzed. She blew out a sigh of exasperation when she saw it all the way across the room on the side table near the door. She flipped down the foot rest and went to retrieve it, relieved when her back barely gave a twinge.

She peered at the screen and frowned.

Blocked number.

Probably a telemarketer. She was about to put the phone into the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing but then stopped. What if, by some crazy chance…

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

Her pulse skittered, and she dropped the graham cracker she’d been holding. “Is this Catman?”

His low chuckle sent a shiver skittering over her spine. “It is. I told you I’d be in touch, so here I am. In touch.”

She pulled out a kitchen chair and lowered herself into it, the attack of nerves making her legs feel weak.

“How are you feeling today? Any regrets?”

She hesitated, thinking of her hike with Trick that morning. “No. How about you?”

“Are you kidding me? That was one of the hottest nights in my life.”

She toyed with the strings of her yoga pants and whispered, “Me too. Hands down.”

“So what do you say we do it again?”

Silence hung heavy as her mind raced. Did he mean have sex again? Or did he want to take her on a date? She didn’t even know his name or what he looked like…not completely, anyway. And still, her heart pounded at the thought of seeing him again. Or maybe it was because he was a mystery that made him so intriguing? Either way, she knew one thing for sure. She couldn’t say no. “Okay.”

“I feel like we got off on a great foot, so what say we play a little game?”

“What kind of game?”

“Meet me at the movie theater on Seventh and Broad at nine o’clock tomorrow night. Find the oldest movie playing and buy a ticket. Sit in the back row and wait for me. I’ll be there shortly after it starts. And Grace?”

She swallowed hard and croaked, “Yes?”

“Wear a skirt.”

He disconnected, and she was left staring at the phone, dumbfounded.

Briefly, she considered calling him back to cancel. This was crazy, wasn’t it? Meeting a stranger who seemed intent on doing lascivious things to her in the movie theater? What would Vic say? She glanced down at the screen and remembered he’d blocked his number. Clever boy. He probably knew she’d want to back out at some point, and now she wouldn’t be able to contact him. He might not know it, but she was far too polite to blow him off.

She set the cell phone down on the kitchen table and sucked in a steadying breath. Blocked number or no, she couldn’t lie to herself. She was going to that movie theater. Whatever happened, she wasn’t quite ready to let Catman—or what he represented—go yet. Not until she knew if these tingles were the real deal or not.

Chapter Seven

Trick pressed
END
on his cell phone and set it down on the long, locker room bench next to him. His hike with Grace had given him a lot to think about, and his conversation with her just now had only added to it. He’d never felt so torn in his life. On the one hand, his stomach was tight with anticipation at the thought of their date tomorrow. On the other, his guts were churning with guilt and the very real fear that he was handling this all wrong.

“What’s up, Mathews? You coming or going?”

Alec strode into the locker room with a towel hitched around his hips, still wet from his shower.

Trick tucked the phone into his pocket and shook his head. “Going. I just came in to tie up a few loose ends on a report from yesterday and squeeze in a workout.”

He’d hoped hitting the weights hard would work off the extra energy that he hadn’t gotten to burn when his hike with Grace had gotten cut short. Turned out, even after a grueling circuit, he still had adrenaline to spare.

“Me and the guys are going down to Merilee’s if you want to come.”

Merilee’s was a topless bar just outside of town where some of the single cops—along with a couple of the married ones—hung out after work sometimes. He’d never been a big strip club guy, preferring to spend his time with women he could see naked in private, but he had gone pretty regularly for the chatter and to shoot pool. B.G. Before Grace.

“Nah, man. I’m going to take a quick shower and head home. Early day tomorrow.”

“No worries,” Alec said and closed his locker with a
snap
.

“I think you should be worried.” Ricky Silva, a vice detective, came into view, yanking off his sweat-stained t-shirt, a smirk on his face. He eyed Trick suspiciously. “Seems like you never hang out anymore. Some piece of tail got you on lock now or something?”

Silva wasn’t a bad guy. He was just ignorant when it came to women. Which was why Trick didn’t plow his fist into his face for unknowingly calling Grace a piece of tail, even though that was his first instinct.

“Nothing like that,” he said. Because that was the truth. Grace had never asked or expected him to be anything other than who he was. And to her, he was a ladies’ man. A guy who hung out at strip clubs and hooked up with women—lots of women—for a night of fun. He’d stopped going because he didn’t want that life anymore, and part of getting the life he did want included making Grace see he was more than that. He pushed off the bench. “I’m looking for someone to settle down with, and I’m not going to find that at Merilee’s.”

“True that,” Alec murmured and then grinned. “But I’m going to go anyway.”

Trick chuckled, heading for the shower as Silva called after him. “I don’t know about you two but they got this new Brazilian dancer, and I could settle down with her like a motherfucker.”

For all his bravado, Trick had never even seen Silva talk to a woman, so a lot of this had to be a front. He almost wanted to tell the guy it was okay. That not wanting to be alone and wishing you could find one person you could spend your life with didn’t make you less of a man. In fact, it became clearer to Trick every day he spent with Grace that it made him more of a man.

He tugged off his sweat-soaked workout clothes and cranked the shower up high and hot before stepping under the spray. Too bad Grace hadn’t noticed how much he’d changed. That he was a different person because of her. But she was paying attention now.

To Catman, not to you.

He clenched his jaw, annoyed at the irrational anger he felt toward the alter-ego of his own creation. Just one more date. One more chance to get her to see what it could be like between them, and then he’d tell her the truth.

…

Twenty-five hours and eleven long minutes later, Grace stood at the ticket booth. She loved her job, but this particular Monday had been interminable. She couldn’t wait for this exact moment, but now that it was here, she found herself wishing she had another hour. Or five.

She stared at the marquis and then dug out her wallet to pay the eight dollars to see
La Bon Petit
. Foreign. Old. Discount. Score. Hopefully no one else would be there so they could…what?

Her hand shook as she took her stub from the attendant.

“Theater number seven,” the pimply kid said with a flash of braces.

She smiled weakly, feeling every bit the dirty, old woman, and hurried across the lobby to the theater. Briefly, she glanced at the concessions stand and wondered if she should get a soda or some Raisinets and then realized how ridiculous that would be. They weren’t going to actually watch the movie.

She looked around and pushed the door open, legs nearly buckling with relief when she saw that she was literally the only person in the theater. Okay, she could do this. She looked around at the empty seats and selected the one in the farthest back corner. It was tucked away so that, even if someone else did come in, they wouldn’t be able to see her from behind them, especially in the dim light.

The trailers began to roll, and she took off her coat. She laid it in the seat beside her before settling in her own chair, the nubby fabric scraping the backs of her bare thighs.

Wear a skirt.

Remembering the silky promise in his voice made her nipples go hard beneath her sweater. Bold. She was so damned bold because she’d gone a step further and left the bra and underwear home too. Fear lanced the burgeoning need, and she wondered if that had been a mistake. Would he think she was being too forward? Would he be annoyed that she’d taken the initiative? Short of leaving and scrapping the whole evening, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now.

And she wasn’t going to do either of those things.

She’d spent the past two hours wondering what they would do in those tiny seats. How he would touch her. If they would tease and stroke until the lights came on and then run out to his car or if they would somehow manage to complete the act right there in the theater. She moaned under her breath as a gush of heat warmed her thighs. The last of the trailers ended, and the room went pitch black before the opening credits lit the screen.

She pulled out her cell phone to check the time. Quarter after nine. He should be here by now, no? But there were no missed calls, and surely he wouldn’t have made the effort to call her, set up a date, and then not show.

The door creaked loudly, and she tensed, staring at the sliver of light anxiously. Would she be able to see his face? Or would she have to wait until the movie was over? She found herself torn. She wanted to see him, but the mystery of it all, the naughtiness of it made her feel so hot inside. Like she’d swallowed the sun.

A tall figure stepped into the room, and her hands went slick with sweat. She opened her mouth to whisper to him, but stopped when a second, smaller figure followed behind. A woman. The pair made their way down aisle hand in hand and Grace could barely stomach her disappointment. It wasn’t him. And worse, if he did show, they were no longer alone. She watched, an empty ache filling her, as the couple chose their seats toward the middle row. She was so intent on seeing where they ended up, she jumped when a low voice murmured in her ear.

“You came.”

She jerked in surprise and looked up to see him standing over her. His face was obscured by the black hooded sweatshirt he wore, but she’d know that voice anywhere. Unless, of course, Christian Bale happened to enjoy French films as well. A familiar tingle washed over her, and her thoughts immediately went to Trick.

Only Trick wasn’t here. And besides, he’d been happy for her just like he was when he found out that she’d hooked up at Chaz’s party.
Exactly the way a friend should be.
Which was exactly how she’d wanted it from the very beginning, so second-guessing herself over it now was nothing but selfish and silly. She shoved aside the disappointment and focused on the man in front of her.

“I did,” she whispered softly. The relief was overwhelming, and for the moment, she didn’t care that they wouldn’t be able to do whatever it was he’d had planned. The fact that he’d shown up and had wanted to was enough for her.

“I’m going to sit behind you for a while, all right?”

She hesitated, not sure what he was getting at. “I guess so.”

He settled into the chair behind her, and she attempted to stay calm. It was no easy task. The movie played on, and she tried to pay attention, but with every squeak of the chair behind her, she grew more agitated. What was he doing back there?

About ten minutes in, when she was close to screaming in frustration, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her chair.

“Relax. I just want to touch you.”

His mouth was close to her ear, and the heat of his breath sent a bolt of need through her.

His hands were gentle, but they held that restrained power, a power she was all too familiar with from their activities last night. Her breath caught as he traced the line of her collar bone.

“Come on, sink back.”

She did, pressing her shoulders against the cushioned seat. His hands stayed safely above her neckline, which was at once calming and frustrating. It took a full five minutes before she realized that with each swipe of his fingertips, he was moving closer and closer to the curve of her breast. Her breath hitched as his thumb ran over the very beginning of one slope, a whisper of a touch that made her stomach ache.

“Grace?” His breath tickled her ear, and she quivered.

“Yes?”

“You’re not at all relaxed.”

“Sure I am,” she lied.

“I can make you relax, you know. You just have to let me.”

Her whisper was a little louder this time. “There are people here.”

“Right. And there a lot of things I can do to you without them ever suspecting.”

“L-like what?”

“Well, for one, I know I can make you come.”

Her throat stuck together, and she regretted passing on the concession stand soft drink. “I’d like to see you try it,” she heard herself say.

His chuckle warmed her from the inside out. “Oh, I’m going to try it, all right. I tried it the other night and you know what?”

She shook her head but then realized he probably couldn’t see that. “No, what?”