Pretty in Ink (Voretti Family Book 3) (18 page)

Adrenaline flooded his veins, taking him from half asleep to one-hundred-percent awake. Aware.
Alive
.

“What was that for?” he croaked.

She gave him a smile that was so Liv, he knew the answer even before she spoke. “Because it felt good.”

I know something that will feel even better.

Instead of dragging Liv under him like a caveman, he sat up. He was about to force himself out of bed when he remembered that he wasn’t wearing anything except a pair of boxers that weren’t gonna do a thing to hide his reaction to that kiss. And if he saw her checking him out, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself.

He cleared his throat, scooting toward the edge of the mattress to put some space between himself and Liv. “So…”

“Yeah.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. Some time during the night, her perfectly styled hair had turned into a spiky mess, and his brain took a detour back into dangerous territory imagining the kind of dreams she must’ve had. The same kind that had burned through his head.

He forced himself to say what had to be said. “We need to figure out how we’re going to do this. The logistics.” He stared at the generic seascape on the wall. If he caught one more glimpse of her adorably mussed hair or lace bra, he wasn’t going to be able to finish this. “You’d better break up with me instead of the other way around. You know… So your brothers don’t kill me.”

There was a long silence. Then, “Okay. That makes sense.”
 

He stared at the painting so hard the colors blurred.

“I’ll tell my family at brunch.” Her voice was a little too perky, like she was hiding a deep hurt.

His chest ached. He hadn’t noticed the empty hole there before Liv came into his life, bringing enough crazy energy to fill it. But he could damn well feel it now. And he realized he couldn’t let her walk out of his life. Not until he found some other way to fill it. “Now that I think about it, it might be weird if we broke up today. After everyone watched us dancing all night.”

Her breathing echo in the silent room. “That’s true,” she said, finally.

“And you don’t have your lease yet.”
 

“You want to wait until after the lease?”

“I don’t want something to go wrong at the last minute. After all this effort.”

“I appreciate that.” She poked at a small hole in the duvet seam. “But I know you want to get back to Joslyn. And it’ll be a couple weeks before the lease is finalized.”

It was strange to hear Joslyn’s name, like she was someone he’d known in another life. With Liv next to him, he couldn’t even picture Joslyn’s face. “Two more weeks isn’t going to make a difference.”

“If I was Joslyn, it would make a difference to me.”

He had to look at Liv. No power in the universe was strong enough to stop him.

She met his gaze, the worry in her eyes evident. She was right. An extra week—even an extra day—could well be a
 
deal-breaker for Joslyn. But he didn’t care.

Liv had been right. What he felt for Joslyn—respect, admiration—that wasn’t enough to build a lasting romantic relationship. He didn’t need movie-worthy passion, but there had to be
something
. Enough attraction that he wouldn’t catch himself fantasizing about Liv when he was kissing his wife.

“It’s not going to happen with Joslyn,” he said gruffly. “So there’s no reason not to see this through until you get your lease.”

The smile broke over her face like a wave, sudden and powerful. “Thank you, Caleb!” She threw her arms around him, so excited, so
alive
, that it was hard to breathe.

He couldn’t do this. There was no way he could stay this close to Liv without doing something monumentally stupid.

He took a deep breath. Opened his mouth, steeling himself to take back his stupid offer.
 

But her body curled around his, soft where he was hard, and what he ended up saying was, “The department is having an open house tomorrow night. Do you want to come?”

*

Liv wasn’t sure what she was doing at the Police Department’s East Village station when she should have been putting the finishing touches on her collection for
Design Divas
. There would be no family here. No one who might report back to her parents that, yes indeed, Liv was still making healthy relationship choices.

She hadn’t even thought to ask Caleb to invite anyone else. She’d been distracted by his voice—a little too casual as he mentioned the open house. Or maybe it had been the dark heat in his eyes, like he was thinking about throwing her down on the bed and having his way with her.

She’d accepted his invitation without thinking it through—the story of her life—but now that she was about to walk inside the repurposed warehouse, her muscles faltered, not at all sure this was a good idea.

It’s only an open house, Liv. Relax.

With a deep breath, she strode inside. The chairs had been pushed to one side of the huge lobby, and two officers were conducting a self-defense class. Another officer was leading a group of kids toward the hallway for a tour. But her eyes went straight to the coffee carafe on the back table. Or, more accurately, to Caleb, who was pouring himself a cup.

He turned toward her, like he’d felt her stare.

Her insides went as hot as the steam coming off his cup. He looked even better in a suit than he had in a tuxedo. Strong. In charge.

He strode toward her and…he was
smiling
.
 

It was the kind of smile he’d only ever given her in her dreams. A smile that said she’d made his day by the simple act of walking through the door.
 

She needed to inhale. She didn’t want to pass out. But it was hard, because whatever muscles were responsible for inflating her lungs were nonoperational. All the blood that normally powered them had rushed to other parts of her body.

“Liv?” As his mouth shaped her name, her own lips prickled with awareness. “Hey. You all right?”

She finally managed to pull in a breath. “Hi! I mean, I’m fine. Actually, I’m better than fine. I’m wonderful.”

There was that smile again. “Then let’s go meet some people.”

He introduced her to his friends and coworkers like she was someone special. Someone he was proud to be with.

Questions pulsed inside her brain. It had been his idea to extend their arrangement. Was it truly because he was worried about her lease, or was it something more?
 

She was dying to explore the attraction between them. After last night, she was almost certain that was mutual. But she doubted Caleb had ever had sex outside of a committed, long-term relationship. And just because he thought she was hot didn’t mean he saw genuine relationship potential.

“This is my Lieutenant, Richard Atkins. Richard, this is Liv.”

Even in a suit, this guy looked like a cop. The kind of authority figure who would know she was trouble in a single glance.

She didn’t realize she was creeping backward until Caleb’s arm went around her shoulder, halting her progress.
 

She needed to relax. She wasn’t a sixteen-year-old about to get busted for shoplifting. If Caleb could see her as an adult, surely she could see
herself
that way.

Her pep talk lasted long enough to shake Richard’s hand, but as he surveyed her outfit, all her insecurities came flooding back. She’d painted her oversized tunic with tribal designs and cut her beaded skirt on such a severe diagonal that it was a mini-skirt on one side and brushed the floor on the other. Which might’ve been okay at a costume party or club, but here, in the land of tailored suits and uniforms, she might as well be waving flares and shouting,
Look at me!

“One of your designs?” Richard asked.

“Oh! I mean, yes.”

He scrutinized the fabric like it was the scene of a bloody crime, and her muscles pulsed with the urge to flee. She locked them down, forcing herself to wait for Richard’s verdict.
 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, finally. “I understand why Caleb is betting on you to win
Design Divas
.”

She went as warm as if the burly lieutenant had given her a hug. Caleb had talked to his coworkers about her. That didn’t sound like someone who was only pretending to date her. Then again, Caleb had always been thorough.

She struggled to come up with a line of questioning that would force Caleb to define their relationship without coming right out and asking.
 
“When you say
betting
,” she said to Richard, “do you mean…”

“I was referring to a friendly wager, of course. The department would frown on any activities that constituted gambling.” He winked at her.

“Of course.” Well, that told her…exactly nothing.
 

This was stupid. She’d never been a coward, and she wasn’t going to turn into one now. As soon as she could find a minute alone with Caleb, she’d tell him that she was attracted to him. Then it would be up to him.

“Nice to meet you, Liv. Now, I’d better finish making the rounds.” Richard turned away, giving her exactly the opportunity she’d been looking for.

Let’s not be hasty
, said the Annabelle voice inside her head.
Have you even thought about what you’re going to say? You’re not going to get a do-over.

The words that had been ready to come out of her mouth disintegrated into their component letters and sank back down her throat.
 

Richard turned back toward her. “If you’re interested in a tour of the building, find Deputy Kings. He’s getting ready to take a group upstairs.”

Perfect
, Imaginary Annabelle piped up.
That’ll give you some time to think through your plan.

Liv swiped her sweaty palms over her skirt, but the seed beads refused to absorb the moisture. She cleared her throat. She had to do this right now before she chickened out. “Actually, there’s something I need to discuss with Caleb.”

Caleb stiffened. His arm tightened around her shoulder like he was afraid of what she might do if left to her own devices.
 

She breathed him in—that mixture of shampoo and soap that was the essence of clean—and her thoughts went filthy enough to scare Imaginary Annabelle away.
About time
.

“Interrogation three is open,” Richard offered.
 

“We can talk here,” Caleb said.

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind a little privacy.” Liv tried to sound casual, but it was hard with Caleb so close.
I’m sorry for being naughty, officer. Are you going to frisk me?

“It’s down that way.” Richard gestured toward the hall. “Make sure the cameras are turned off.” He gave her another wink before he wandered away.

Caleb’s arm slid off her shoulder. He strode down the hall, moving so quickly she would’ve thought he was ditching her, except that he held open the door at the very end.
 

Anticipation sparked down her spine.
I plead guilty, officer. Punish me.

She shook her head, trying to lose the inappropriate thoughts as she strode inside the small room. She was going to be mature. She’d state her feelings calmly and openly, and that was it.

Caleb flipped a switch, and the room went from comfortably dim to high noon at the height of summer in the Mojave. She squinted against the glare.
 

Three of the walls were painted a stark white, but the one in front of her was a floor-to-ceiling mirror. The lights projected her reflection at the glass, showing her exactly what Caleb was seeing. The smoky eye make-up and crimson lipstick. The slinky formfitting skirt.

She looked like an expensive hooker about to proposition a straight-laced cop. Who would bust her for solicitation.

Richard hadn’t been joking about the cameras, either. There were four of them.

So that you’ll be able to watch a replay of Caleb rejecting you from all the different angles.
 

Great. Imaginary Annabelle was back.

Caleb pulled the door shut. The lock engaged with a click, and Liv’s heart beat fast and hard.

Caleb leaned one hip against the table, perfectly still except for the muscle ticking in his jaw. “What’s up?”

She glanced from camera to camera to camera to camera. “Those things are off, right?”

“Yeah. There’s a green light that goes on when they’re filming.”

“Right.” She tried to organize her scattered thoughts into the kind of well-reasoned argument Caleb would appreciate, but they didn’t fit together anymore.
 

 
“I’ve got about thirty seconds before someone out there comes looking for me. If you have something to say, now’s the time.”

Her head cleared. She didn’t need well-reasoned arguments. She was a woman of action.

She sauntered up to Caleb, curled one hand around the back of his neck, and kissed him.

T
HE
SECOND
L
IV
’
S
lips touched his, Caleb stopped thinking. The rational part of his brain—the one in charge of organizing words into coherent thoughts and deciding right from wrong—went totally off line.
 

All he knew was her softness. Her heat. Her body conforming to his like she knew exactly what he wanted, no words necessary.

He kissed her and a single word echoed through his head, over and over, a primitive chant of possession.
Mine
.

She made a sound deep in her throat. His whole body clenched. He needed her closer.
 

He picked her up, lips still fused to hers. It wasn’t enough.
 

He set her on the closest flat surface. Followed her down, kissing her and kissing her, because he couldn’t stop.
 

She moaned. Pulled him between her thighs as she lay back on the hard metal table.
 

The
interrogation room
table.

Shit.
Shit.

He tore himself away from her. “We can’t do this.”

She sat up. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips were bright red, like all the blood in her body was circulating between those two places. But her eyes flashed with hurt.