Weston (12 page)

Darrell sighed deeply and met his gaze. “That’s between my nephew and me. You two struck a deal with me today. You owe me.”

Rocki rubbed his back. He stared at Darrell, not ready to drop the subject. They were talking about Kage. His best friend deserved to know the man he blamed for his mother’s death was not the one responsible.

More important, why would Darrell ruin his relationship with his only living family member to keep Marcelli’s secret? The room squeezed in on Tony, and he shook his head in disgust.

This deal was more about family dynamics than Darrell’s freedom. Rocki was a pawn in Darrell’s sick game, and he’d used Tony to make sure Kage never found out the truth. The man disgusted him.

“Let’s go, Tony,” Rocki whispered. “We have everything we need.”

He nodded and walked to the door. With his hand on the knob, he glanced behind him at Darrell, who’d swiveled his chair so he had his back to them. He tamped down the anger, unable to figure Darrell out, and walked out into the hallway.

Through all the wonderings about what just happened in that room and the effect it would have on all of them before this case was over with, he concentrated on one thing: Rocki.

She’d held up during the talk and he’d caught himself forgetting that she was a successful detective and academy teacher, and not only his woman, even though Darrell knew the topic of discussion came more at a price for Tony than for Rocki. He glanced down at her and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. Crazy as it seemed, while he was bargaining with their lives, one thing stood out blatantly clear. Rocki had called him Tony.

S
cary intense and refusing to talk on the way home, Tony locked himself in one of his spare bedrooms the minute after arriving home and securing the house. Rocki turned the door handle again for the fifth time in the last hour to see if he would allow her inside. She’d gone from angry to frustrated to worried.

The inside information Darrell gave her wasn’t what she was expecting. Deep down, she held on to hope there was a reasonable explanation regarding Gino’s questionable behavior and her instincts. The last year, she’d studied, trained, and breathed the Archer case.

Every scenario possible of what could go wrong ran through her mind. She’d played the part for four months, and Darrell had blindsided her when she’d least expected it. Not once during her job had she suspected Gino of being a dirty cop. Gino, a detective, one of the highest supervisors in the department, running the incoming drug trade in the towns surrounding Bay City? The thought was unfathomable.

She needed to go over the logistics with someone and right now and Tony was the only person she trusted. She chewed on the edge of her lip. She hated to admit it, but she had no idea what her next step should be. All of her training pushed her toward informing the department. If she couldn’t trust Gino, then she could go directly to the board and bring forth her allegations to open a new investigation.

The move would put a black mark against her. Men and women in the department would pull back, call her a rat, and alienate her from their support. Gino was one of the most respected detectives in the whole county.

“Weston.” She rapped the door. “Please. Open the door.”

She’d dealt with standoffs before, but this was personal. Something happened while they were dealing with Darrell that shifted the focus off the evidence she now held against Gino and straight to Tony’s relationship with Kage. After the meeting, Tony declined the other guys’ offer to go back to the body shop and talk over what went down at the Crystal Palace. He also refused to talk to her. She had no idea why he’d shut down and locked himself away from everyone.

She walked away, changed her mind, and returned to the door. “Okay, we won’t talk. Just open up, so I can see if you’re all right.” She waited and when nothing happened, she laid her hand flat on the door. “Tony? Please.”

The door opened, Tony pulled her into the room. She held on to his shoulders as he moved her faster than she could process to the wall. Plastered between the hard surface and his equally hard chest, she’d opened her mouth to ask him what was going on when he kissed her.

Hard.

Passionate.

Demanding.

He wrapped his hand around her hair and pulled away, holding her in place. He gazed into her eyes, watching, waiting, and seeking something basic and primal. The intensity in which he looked at her, standing in front of him, hit her low in the stomach and she melted.

“Tony,” she whispered, raising her hand his cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered back. “It’s your life we’re playing with. Kage’s life. It’s fucked up. I needed to punch the bag. Didn’t want you to deal with me the way I was…messed up.”

She glanced over his shoulder, took in the exercise equipment, the weights, the punching bag. Understanding came, and she lifted her hand, cupping his cheek.

“I can handle you, Weston. Here and out there,” she said.

“Then say my name.” He tugged on her hair. “I don’t know what stops you, but I need that from you. I want my name on your tongue, all the time. Can you give me that?”

She moistened her lips and took a shuddering breath. “Okay.”

His own lips went to her neck and the fingers on his other hand dug into her hip, pulling the shirt she was wearing higher. When his hand hit bare skin, his head came up.

To strip down and put on his T-shirt when they got home, leaving her panties off, her breasts free, had been a rash decision on her part. Delighted over surprising him, she shrugged. “I was hoping…you know, we could be together again.”

“Right,” he mumbled.

He wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands moved to his belt. “You don’t have to wish, sweetheart. It’s a given. Me. You. You calling me Tony. This is us, and it isn’t going away.”

The metal clink of his buckle hitting his zipper thrilled her, but his words pleased her. She widened her legs as he lifted her up and pressed her against the wall, putting his hands flat against her back to protect her spine.

Then she slowly settled onto his hardness, wrapping her legs around his waist. She moaned as pleasure flooded her body. Possessed by his strength, his power, and put in the position to accept everything he asked for, her body ignited instantly.

“Damn.” He growled, burying his head in her neck. “You’re ready for me. So hot and tight.”

He pulled out and thrust back in. She sucked in her breath. Her body spiraled tighter.

He didn’t look frustrated or upset anymore.

He looked hot and possessive.

And she liked it. A lot.

He held himself still. “Say it.”

She heard his swallow, felt his body shudder, and sensed his struggle to keep control. With her hands sunk deep in his hair, his body holding her against the wall, she could only give him what he needed. What she needed too.

“Tony,” she whispered.

“Damn right.” He grinned sexily. “I like when you say my name.”

Her neck arched as he stroked her with his length. She locked her ankles behind his back, trying to match his movements and in the end, letting him take her to paradise. There were so many things she wanted to tell him. She could no longer ignore what was happening between them.

“Tony?” She moaned. “Thank you.”

“Never had a woman I wanted more. Every day, you were in my head, and then you were there looking beautiful and full of shit, trying to beat me at pool, acting cool”—he grunted, plunging deep inside her—“being adorable.”

“Oh God.”

Could this get any better? “Please,” she begged.

“So strong. Fucking gorgeous. Sweet and cute trying to be someone you’re not, lying every time you opened your mouth, but I knew.” His head came up and his eyes pierced hers. “Dammit, sweetheart, I knew you belonged to me.”

Suddenly, his face dipped close, and he filled her vision. “Come for me.”

And come for him, she did, squeezing him as pleasure curled and exploded from her center.

He arched, sinking to the root and holding himself stiff as he climaxed. She laid her head on his shoulder, letting him take all of her weight. She couldn’t move. Didn’t
want
to move. Ever.

When Tony caught his breath, he set her on her feet. She gazed up at him, and his smile went to somewhere she’d never seen from him before and didn’t recognize.

“What?” She placed her hands on his stomach, grasping his shirt, and holding him in front of her.

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling away and running his hands through his hair. “I lost it. I never lose control.”

“I understand.” She tilted her head and studied him. “Really. Stress and pressure build up inside of us differently, and—”

He faced her. “I didn’t grab a condom.”

“That’s why you’re upset?” When he nodded, she swallowed her amusement. That sealed it. Tony Weston was the last of the decent guys in the world. “It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

His exhale came out in a rush. She moved toward him, kissed his chin, grinning because he looked relieved. For him to forget meant he was feeling the same obsessive need to be close to her that she was experiencing. That unrestrained hunger overtook her every time he was near. “Thank you.”

“For?” He rubbed her arms.

“For being you. For caring about me. For having my back. For not walking away after I lied to you, broke into your house, and almost lost your dog,” she whispered. “For making me understand that there are good guys still out there willing to help me and do good for others, for making me feel special even though we hardly know each other in a normal way, for showing me—”

“Got it, sweetheart.” He chuckled.

She sighed happily. “Good.”

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. After she went to the bathroom, she let him tuck her into bed.

He hovered over her, kissed her quickly, and said, “I need to let Brute outside to run.”

“Hurry back,” she said, snuggling down under the comforter.

She listened to him walk through the house. Brute woofed. She smiled, loving the sound of Tony’s life, his home, his dog. Now that she was no longer in danger, she wanted to help walk Brute and go jogging with Tony. Her stomach warmed.
Tony.

For the first time she allowed herself to think about what being Tony Weston’s girlfriend meant. A new relationship, a new boyfriend, and plenty of time to discover more ways to surprise him in the future eased the stress of the last six hours. She curled her legs and buried her head in the pillow. Once she took the evidence on Gino’s dirty work to the bureau, she could concentrate on Tony.

Disgust and disappointment came every time she thought about Gino. She’d trusted him. She’d looked up to him. Yet he represented the exact kind of person she went after every day.

She closed her eyes and mind. Tomorrow, she’d deal with the repercussions of bringing down the head of the detective’s department. Then she’d bring her mom home. Once her responsibilities were over, she’d allow herself to think about where she and Tony were headed in the relationship department.

T
he garage part of Beaumont Body Shop fascinated Rocki with all the tools and machinery at her disposal. Rocki poked at a rubber hose. Tony was right. They both needed time today to wrap their head around everything happening before they delivered the evidence Darrell gave them to the bureau.

She needed something to distract her, because she’d spilled her coffee at breakfast, blown up at Tony over a bad hair day, and forced Brute to put up with her extralong hug before she opened the can of dog food. On the verge of either crying or kicking someone—preferably Gino—Tony told her to get dressed and suggested they hang out at the body shop for the day.

Tony wanted to get his mind off what to do about Kage, and she wanted to forget how much Gino disappointed her. She rubbed at the spot of grease on the back of her hand. For how much the police department supported their own, bringing allegations against one another was almost unheard of.

Gino had friends in the department. She had friends in the department. All of their relationships would be tested before any decision was made by the court. And that’s only if she delivered a believable case and the evidence panned out.

For today, she wanted to do something normal like hang out with Tony. Forget about what sat in front of her, and her duty to serve and protect. She sighed. She could no more shirk her responsibilities than stand back and watch Gino get away with murder.

After barely getting any sleep last night, she became more confused and worried as time passed. Everything came to an emotional meltdown this morning.

Yet she couldn’t ignore her current problem, no matter how interesting and distracting she found the car business. She loved her job, and she was good at it.

Not only was she putting her own job at risk, because of the months she’d spent with Darrell, the board members would doubt her story. Maybe even believe she’d turned dirty, preferring fast money and the crime life over protecting innocent citizens and doing honorable work.

Rocki lay stretched across the engine on what Tony said was a classic Torino and pointed at a small black box hidden below what he called the cylinder. “What’s that?”

Under the car on a wheelie board thingy, Tony rolled to the left and peered up to where she pointed. “The starter box.”

She squeezed a black wire, spotted a flower-looking metal part, and stuck her head down farther. “What’s this called?”

“It’s a custom horn.” Tony chuckled, and disappeared out of her line of vision.

All she could do was remind herself she wasn’t alone. Tony had her back. She could go forward and present her case to her superiors, knowing he supported her. His protection helped but didn’t take away her guilt at pressing charges against one of her own. Would the board believe her, even with the proof?

Everyone knew from the start of her career, even when she attended the academy, she aimed for the position of top detective, and her focus never swayed. None of the other female detectives had gone as far as she had.

Despite the department being an equal opportunity employer, she knew the unspoken rules and fought harder to prove herself every step of the way. Much to the amusement and, she suspected, the chagrin of the men, they respected her.

She fiddled with a black wire. “What does this do?”

Tony scooped her off the car. She screamed, grabbing his shoulders. He stood her on the floor and rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek. “You’re a beautiful sight, pretending to enjoy working on the car when you’re keyed up tighter than a newly installed fan belt.”

“Hey…I like watching you work. It’s interesting.” She wiped her hands on the front of the coveralls Tony helped her pull on earlier so she wouldn’t get her clothes greasy.

“Sexy.” He growled, wiggling his brows.

“Sure, I am. I’m covered in grease and wearing this thing that’s ten sizes too big.”

He pulled her to his chest. “I like the smell of grease on you.”

She shook her head, amused by him. “You’re sick, Weston.” She paused. “Do you think if I brought my Honda here, you could change the timing belt and I could watch? I’d pay you, and—”

His arms came around her and he bent her backward, kissing away the rest of her words. When he came up for air, he said, “You’re not paying. I’ll do your timing belt, and I’ll even let you help, but if I hear you call me Weston again, the deal’s off.”

She held on to his shoulders as he whipped her into a standing position. She continued holding him, grinning. “Okay.”

“Always testing me,” he mumbled, unzipping the front of her coveralls. “When are you going to get it? You’re my woman.”

“I’m getting that.” She grew serious. “Can I ask you one more question?”

He growled, but his eyes softened. She raised his arm.

She pointed to his tattoo. “Why a naked woman?”

“Why not?” he asked back.

“It’s badass, but you do realize the one-colored ink and style means it was done by someone who has spent time in prison or has connections with those inside,” she said.

“I know that, sweetheart.” He shrugged. “I was investigating a guy for delinquency on past child support payments. He was getting a tattoo, so I sat down in the next chair and asked for my own tattoo while I discovered where the guy lived and worked.”

“But a woman?” She arched her brow. “Is she an old girlfriend or your version of a pinup centerfold like the ones all over the garage?”

He shook his head. “I told you before, I saw you almost a year ago…It’s you.”

“Get out!” She backed away, shaking her head. No fricking way. He did not just say he marked his body with her likeness. Who did that sort of thing?

“What?” He held out his arm. “Don’t you think it looks like you?”

She studied the tattoo, creeping closer to Tony. Upside down, the tattoo looked nothing like her. The hair flowed out to the sides, the slim hips, and the enormous—she slapped his shoulder. “Get out!”

He chuckled. “I told you. It even has the tiny mole by your eyebrow.”

There was definitely a dot in the exact same spot as hers. She reached up and swept her finger over her brow, and even though she couldn’t feel the brown mark, it was there.

She thought nothing would surprise her about Tony, but the tattoo…yeah, that was hot. She sagged against him. “It’s really me?”

“Tattoo doesn’t lie.” He kissed her quick. “Let’s clean up. I can’t do any more with you here, asking so many questions, and talking to me.”

“You’re the coolest, most badass tattoo-wearing PI-slash-mechanic ever.” She couldn’t stop the grin. “Me…a tattoo.”

“Only you in my head and on my body, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“I like it.” She kissed him hard. “A lot.”

He slapped her ass. “Enough to stop calling me Weston?”

“Maybe…” She leaned into him as she wiggled her arms out of the sleeves. He held her hand, and she stepped out of the legs. “Don’t forget we need to be at the academy at five o’clock to meet with Detective Hanara and Officer Bailey.”

“I know.” He wadded up the coveralls and threw them on the bench. “Go ahead and use the guys’ bathroom in the back. Put the sign up so none of the guys will walk in on you. I want to talk with Kage, and then I’ll meet you in headquarters. Make sure you stay in the building.”

She stilled and watched him. When he looked away, she caught the worry etched around his eyes. She moved toward him.

“Tony?” She laid her hand along his jaw.

His gaze moved away from her. “What?”

As she lay in his arms last night, listening to him go through the choices he had to make, her opinion of him solidified. He’d explained what Kage believed happened to his mother, and how the truth could set him free. Tony’s guilt at holding on to information that could change his friend’s life ate away at him.

Tony Weston was one of the good guys. The best. Upstanding, morally responsible, and full of more integrity than any man she knew. And she realized she was falling madly in love with him.

She gave a short shake of her head, leaned in and kissed him lightly. “Okay, gorgeous. I’ll be safe.”

“Gorgeous?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “It’s better than calling you Weston and making you mad, huh?”

His mouth softened. “Go clean up before I lean you over the Torino and ruin the new paint job.”

She gazed at the car, wondering exactly how and what he’d do to her. Intrigued, she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. She was just the right height to…

He burst out laughing. “Come on, sweetheart.”

She grabbed his shirt. “Can we—”

He patted her bottom. “Go. Before your naughty thoughts get us both in trouble.”

“All right. All right. You don’t have to get bossy with me,” she said, rubbing the side of her butt as she walked out of the garage.