Jamie Hill Triple Threat (37 page)

Dropping onto the sofa, Gina set their drinks on the coffee table and handed Brady a plate. She dished them each up a couple slices, and made a show of knocking the pineapple off hers.

He grinned and leaned in to her, holding up his plate. "Come on, now, be a sport."

She stared at the slice he held in front of her. "It has pineapple on it."

"Try it," Brady urged.

Gina made a face and locked eyes with his as she took a small taste.

"Well?"

She scowled. "It's good, damn it. I can't believe I'm eating pineapple on pizza." She took another bite and glared at him. "Don't you dare say 'I told you so'!"

"I would never," he replied, and continued to feed her pizza, taking alternate bites off the same slice.

When they reached the last of the crust, Gina nibbled his fingers.

He closed his eyes.

She took the opportunity to remove the plate from his hands and set it on the coffee table next to hers. With quick, smooth precision, she climbed onto his lap and slid her arms around his neck.

Brady opened his eyes and gazed at her. He finally whispered, "This feels like a bad idea."

Gina ground her ass into his burgeoning erection. "Does it? It feels pretty good to me."

He groaned and shifted his hips beneath her. "Not exactly what I meant. I'm just not sure we're ready—"

"I'm ready," she murmured, pressing her lips to his.

"Gina." He pulled back. "Going slow is a new thing for me, so bear with me while I try to explain."

"I'm listening." Her lips trailed a warm path to his ear.

Brady squirmed. "The easy thing to do would be to rip your clothes off and make love to you, right here and now."

"You wouldn't have to rip them." She sucked his lobe into her mouth.

He pressed her shoulders back gently. "I can't."

She stared at him in amazement and blinked. "Excuse me? I thought we were getting along pretty well."

"We are. Please don't question that. It's just—ah, hell." He looked down then back into her eyes again. "I've never met anyone like you, Gina. You're different. Amazing, dazzling. Damn, I could sit here all night coming up with adjectives. The bottom line is, I don't want to have casual, meaningless sex."

She chuckled. "Why not? Sounds like fun."

Brady smiled. "I'm sure it would be, but you deserve better. You're beautiful—no, gorgeous—smart, and absolutely incredible. I'm not sure about much, but I am sure I don't want a quick roll in the hay with you. I want more. I think we could have so much more."

A tear welled in the corner of her eye and Gina swiped it away. "No one has ever said anything that sweet to me."

"You definitely need a better class of friends." He fingered one of her long curls. "Someone like you should be sweet-talked regularly."

She rolled her eyes. "Maybe you just need to get the fairy dust out of your eyes and see me for who I truly am. I'm not that amazing, Brady. I'm just an Italian girl from
Riverside
, nothing that special—"

He pressed two fingers to her lips. "I don't care where you're from. I think you're
very
special. I sense something astounding in you, Gina Morris, and I'm not just saying that. I've never said it to anyone before." He touched a spot on her chest, above her heart, in a nonsexual way.  "It's like a light, inside you, and it comes from here."

She blinked rapidly, holding back the tears.

Brady gazed into her eyes. "I need some time to figure this out. I refuse to rush this one. It feels too important. Are you with me?"

Gina nodded, losing the battle with the waterworks as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Don't cry." He brushed the drops away with his thumbs. "Although I'm not sure what turns me on more—your feisty, smart ass attitude or this new, soft, tender side."

"
Saputa.
" She raised her chin proudly. "
Mi fai impazzire
."

"Oh yeah?" He raised his eyebrows.

Gina smiled. "I said you're the smart ass, and you're driving me crazy."

Brady grinned, wrapping her into his arms and holding her tightly. He nuzzled her ear. "All part of my master plan."

* * * *

Brady shifted uncomfortably in his seat. A small conference room, with twenty other officers seated around the table, was no place for a raging hard-on. In the past three weeks he'd been dating Gina, sometimes he thought about her and couldn't help himself.

Thinking about her was much more interesting than the case. The burglaries in the warehouse district continued, and things suddenly got more serious when a security guard was killed a few days earlier. With a homicide connected to the case, the level of urgency increased.

Lt. Forrest stood with his back to the table and made notes on the large white dry-erase board. A small piece of paper folded into a triangle flew toward Brady, and he snatched it into his hand. The lieutenant glanced at the table for a moment before returning to the notes.

Brady grinned and flicked the paper football across the table to Melanie Curtis. She made a face at him and grabbed the paper toy, dropping her hand to her lap. When it became obvious she wasn't going to play, the detective next to her quietly wrangled the football from her hand and continued the game down the table.

She stuck her tongue out at Brady and he merely smiled and winked. Mel rolled her eyes, and he nodded suggestively. When the lieutenant twirled quickly and grabbed the paper football from the detective nearest him, Brady gulped. Mel cast him an
'I told you so'
look, and he shrugged sheepishly.

Forrest examined the paper and shook his head. "This is the sorriest paper football I've seen in a long time. Who made this?
Marshall
?"

"Don't look at me!" Brady protested, holding his hands up.

The other officers snickered and
Forest
tossed the football in the trash. "'Course not, innocent as always. Okay, people, I know this case seems about as fascinating as watching paint dry. But we've got shipment after shipment of goods getting ripped off, and with the recent death of Security Guard Damon Jones, we now believe there are drugs changing hands out there, too. Let's take this seriously for a few days and see if we can't get somewhere on this thing."

"The homicide division always takes its cases seriously, Lieutenant." Detective Henry Stone spoke up. The short Asian officer pushed his black framed glasses up on his nose.

Brady checked out the man and noticed—
yep, just as I suspected
—a plastic pocket protector to hold pens in the front of Stone's shirt. Exchanging eye rolls with Mel, he tried not to chuckle.

"I'm sure you do, Stone," Lt. Forrest said dryly. "Get on this, people. Keep me posted."

The meeting broke up and Mel followed Brady to his desk in the bullpen. "Oh my God!" she murmured in a hushed voice.

Brady sat and stretched his legs out. He'd forgotten about his erection for a moment, but thankfully it was gone when he glanced down. "Is Stone always such an ass kisser?"

"Yep." Mel crossed her arms. "He finally got an ID on the body behind that strip joint a couple weeks ago. Did you hear about that?

"No." Brady raised his eyebrows with interest. "Anybody interesting?"

She shrugged. "Roy Watts. He had a short record. Seems he got into trouble years ago, but he'd cleaned up his act. He was the comptroller for some import/export company doing business in the warehouse district."

"No shit?" He thought about that. "You know which one?"

"Not offhand. I could find out. You think it means anything?" An expression of surprise crossed her face. "Ah, fuck. The burglary case."

"Well, duh." He rolled his eyes.

She slapped his arm. "Today was the first briefing any of us in homicide had on that one." She held up the thick file. "I've got plenty of reading material. I'd have made the connection."

"Sure you would have," Brady teased. He knew Mel was a good cop, but he couldn't resist giving her static any chance he got.

"Fuck you," she retorted half-heartedly. "Now that homicide's on the case, we'll have the thing solved before you know it. Anything to get out of more meetings with Forrest in charge. Damn, he's monotonous."

"You said it, sister. Boring is an understatement. Makes me miss the good old days when we could smoke in there."

"Or at least have a good game of paper football." A voice from behind spoke up, and Brady spun around.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He jumped up and pumped his old friend's hand.

Jack Dunlevy grinned and returned the handshake. "I had a sales call in the neighborhood, and took a chance you might be in. Look at this, two birds with one stone. Hey Mel!"

"Hey Jack!" She gave the big man a hug and he squeezed her affably. "You look great! Civilian life must agree with you."

"Oh, yes it does." He pulled back, patted his stomach and smiled at both detectives.

Brady tapped Jack's stomach with the back of his hand. "Look at that! You guys expecting another baby?"

"I wish!" Jack played along jovially. "When
Crystal
's nursing, she's like…" He held his hands in front of his chest to indicate large breasts.

"Shit, she's got those anyway," Brady commented.

"You're both pigs." Mel folded her arms across her chest, but the smile never left her face. "We thought we missed you, Dunlevy, but now I'm not sure."

"Well, I miss you guys, but I can't say I miss the job.
Crystal
's happier sending me off to work in the morning knowing no one is going to take a shot at me."

Brady dropped into his chair and folded his hands. "So how
is
that gorgeous wife of yours?"

"Excellent. Still thrilled being a full-time mother. Says it was what she was meant to do."

"Good for her," Mel agreed. "And how is that little cutie, Cynthia? What is she, about six months old, now?"

"She is." Jack pulled a picture from his jacket pocket. "Isn't she the cutest baby in the world? No kidding. Just look at her."

Brady chuckled as Mel took the photo and nodded. "She is, for sure." Mel handed the picture to Brady and gave Jack one more quick hug. "I need to get back to work, proud papa. Tell
Crystal
I said hello, and don't be a stranger."

"Good to see you, Mel. Take care." They watched her walk off, the view of her backside shapely even in a jacket and slacks. Jack turned toward Brady and nodded at Mel. "You ever…?"

"Nah." Brady shook his head.

"She's still hot."

"That's probably what the black widow spider's boyfriend thought right before they had sex and she killed him." He nodded at the cute baby picture and handed it back.

Jack laughed. "She does kind of make you think of a black widow, doesn't she?"

Brady stood. "Every damn day. You got time for a cup of coffee? I could use a smoke."

"Sure." He followed Brady to the coffee pot, where they each grabbed a cup. Before they could get out, Joey Costa approached.

"
Marshall
, I have some names for you to check out."

"Lemme see." He reached for the computerized list and read it quickly, then shoved it in his jacket pocket. "Thanks. Oh, Jack, this is my new partner Joe Costa. Joey, this is my friend Jack Dunlevy. Homicide detective for a zillion years."

The two men shook hands and Jack chuckled. "Not quite a zillion, but it felt like it, there toward the end. Pleasure to meet you. Where you from, Costa?"

"Grew up in
Boston
, sir. My father moved here with the military, and we took root when he got out. It's a nice town."

"It is that," Jack agreed. "Nothing like
Boston
."

The younger man grinned. "No,
Boston
is a city all its own. But
Wichita
has nice features. There's a good Italian community here, too."

"You Italian?" Brady scratched his head.

"Duh!" Jack waved a hand. "Look at the kid. With a name like Costa, that's a no-brainer. Where's your head at?"

"Let's step outside, and I'll tell you about it." He motioned toward the door.

Jack nodded. "Nice to meet you," he told Costa, and the younger man gave a wave.

"You too, sir. Maybe we'll see you again sometime."

"Back in fifteen," Brady told his partner, and they went to the smoking area.

"Don't say it," he mumbled as Jack watched him light up.

"I didn't say a thing. I've gained ten pounds since I stopped smoking, so be prepared to deal with that when you finally decide."

"Just what I need." Brady blew a puff of smoke into the air. "I haven't found time to work out the last few weeks."