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Authors: Jo Davis

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BOOK: Bring the Heat
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Suddenly came the tingling in his balls, the quickening as they drew up tight. Then his orgasm exploded and he was hardly aware of his shout that echoed through the trees. Long legs were wrapped around his waist, her hot sheath milking him. Lowering his head, he kissed her until their release subsided.

After a few seconds, he moved off her and his slick cock slid from her—and he froze, eyes wide, staring down at her.

“Oh shit. Laura, I'm so sorry.”

“What for?”

“No condom,” he said, shame coloring his face. “I got carried away, didn't even think to bring one.”

“Oh.” Her voice was small, and she glanced away. “Well, I got caught in the moment, too. It happens. I'm clean. You?”

“Yes.”

“And I'm on the pill, so . . .”

“Good! That's— I mean, good to know.” He should have been ashamed of how relieved he felt that she was using birth control. But the thought of another woman being pregnant with his child, another innocent life being in danger, made him sick with fear.

A flash of something that might've been hurt appeared in her eyes and was gone. “Yeah. Been on them for a long time. They regulate my period.”

“Ah.”

Separating, they started getting dressed. Crap. Now things were awkward and it was all his fault. She helped him clean up and fold the blanket. Soon they were ready to go, no trace remaining of the pleasurable time they'd spent together.

Once he had her helmet secured again, he put his on and they climbed aboard the four-wheeler. On the way back, he took a roundabout route, trying to inject some fun back into their day. She laughed, and he felt a little lighter. Still, he felt he'd tarnished their outing somewhat.

Things seemed normal when they arrived back at the storage shed. He put away the vehicle, helmets, and keys, and locked the doors. Cooler in hand, he led the way back to the house and let them in.

Inside, he paused, looking around. Listening.

“What are you doing?”

“Habit,” he told her. “Seeing if the house looks or feels different since we were here earlier. It's a cop thing.”

It went without saying that his current situation figured into that as well.

“I'm going up to shower,” she said, then hesitated.

He nodded. “You go on ahead. I'm going to make a couple of phone calls and I'll be up later.”

“Okay.” Tossing him a smile, she turned and headed upstairs.

Not before he'd glimpsed the disappointment on her face, though. God knew he couldn't get it up again so fast at his age, but he could at least have kept her company. Had some shower playtime.

She sensed him pulling away some, and he hated that. Hated himself for being weak in the face of a possibility that was partly his doing.

Tired, he stretched out on the sofa. He really did need to make a couple of calls and now was as good a time as any. The first one was to Shane, and his detective answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Cap. How's the rest and relaxation going?”

“Good. The aftereffects of the drug have me tired and feeling a little strange, but I'm fine.”

“You sure you don't need another checkup?”

The concern in Shane's voice made him smile. Having a foster son had brought out the inner dad in the guy. “I'm sure. Any news on the case?”

“Nothing new. There were no surveillance cameras covering the lot you were found in. The cameras they do have show footage around the building, but you can't see that far out in the lot. Plus it was dark.”

He cursed, even though that was expected.

“Sorry, Cap.”

“Not your fault.”

“Is Laura still out there with you?” Shameless prying, something all his men excelled in.

“Yes, she is. And I'm not telling you anything, before you start asking more questions.”

The other man chuckled. “That pretty much tells me what I want to know anyway.”

“Glad you think so.”

“When are you coming back to the station?”

“I'll be in tomorrow,” he said.

“Don't push yourself.”

Austin rolled his eyes. “See you.”

He ended the call. Then made the next one, to the Realtor who'd found him his current rental house. She seemed thrilled to hear from him.

“Captain Rainey, how are you? Everything going well with your house?”

“Yes, it's fine. I do have another matter I need your assistance with.”

Emotion suddenly threatened to cut off his next words. He hadn't anticipated they'd be so hard to say.

“My actual home, the one I own,” he said quietly. “I need to put it on the market.”

•   •   •

Laura tried to tamp down the hurt that had speared her when Austin had been so relieved she was on the pill.

She told herself any man would feel the same. Their relationship was new and they hadn't come close to discussing how they would handle a slipup like an accidental pregnancy. His reaction was normal.

He'd been sort of distant afterward, though. After she had showered, he'd done the same. They'd just hung out watching movies and snacking, which was fine. Dinner was a quiet affair with sandwiches and soup from a can, and she didn't mind. He was good
company, but it was a very different feeling from the joyous verve that morning on the four-wheeler.

Now they were about to leave and she didn't want to go. Something about this place called to her, and leaving felt as though she was abandoning it. Could a house feel sad? It seemed so, even though she told herself she was being an idiot.

“You ready?” Austin was waiting in the foyer.

“Not really.”

“You like it here that much?”

“I love it,” she admitted. “I don't think I've ever felt so at peace anywhere.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “It has that effect on people. We'll be back—I promise.”

Her spirits brightened. “Really?”

“You bet. Anytime you want.”

She heard the truth in his tone, and knew he meant it. As they got into her car, she was glad to note that most of the tension of yesterday had faded away. Even better, as she pulled down the driveway, he wrapped his fingers around hers and didn't let go for a long while.

Back in town, they stretched the morning a bit by stopping at the diner on the square to eat breakfast. Everything looked good and she ate a breakfast fit for a lumberjack, complete with pancakes and syrup. Austin watched with amusement but didn't say a word; he apparently knew what was good for him.

As they were finishing up, a man a few years younger than Austin paused at their table and smiled. “Hey there. Good to see you.”

“Oh, hey. Chandler, right?” Austin stuck out his hand and they shook. “Austin Rainey. Good to see you, too.”

“Austin, right. Not working today?”

“Oh, I've got to go in. Just putting it off as long as I can.” Austin gave the guy a smile. “You know how it is.”

“I sure do. Well, I'll see you around.”

“You, too.”

After he had gone to his own table, Laura said, “Seems like a nice guy.”

“Yeah. He's a bartender at the Waterin' Hole.”

Their conversation moved on to other things. All too soon, it was time to go, so Austin paid their bill and they left. Laura drove him back to his rented house, which she secretly thought appeared pretty sad compared to his parents' wonderful place.

“Thank you for this weekend,” he said, cupping her cheek. “I loved having you there with me, taking care of me.”

“I wouldn't have been anywhere else.”

“I'm sorry for my meltdown, too.”

“Don't be.” She shook her head. “You've been through too much. Forget about it.”

“I'll try.” He placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I'll call you.”

Then he slid out of the car and walked down the sidewalk, up onto his porch. He stopped and gave her a wave before going inside, which made her feel better.

She couldn't stand the idea of any sort of rift between herself and her sexy cop.

Austin had already burrowed his way under her skin. And into her
heart.

9

After Austin changed clothes and got his truck, he made a detour to see Taylor.

He was met by Cara and some welcome news.

“Austin! Taylor's off the vent! He woke up last night!” Her eyes were shining, the shadows lifted for the first time in days.

“That's great news! Can I see him?”

“Sure. They said if he keeps improving they might let him go to a regular room in the next couple of days.”

“That's great. Once they move him, you can stay with him.”

“I know, and I can't wait. I don't like leaving him.”

“Soon enough you won't have to.”

Giving her a hug, he walked to Taylor's room and nodded to the officer stationed outside. He went in and found Taylor asleep, but now he was breathing on his own.

“Hey, Detective. Who said you could sleep on the job, huh?”

No flicker of an eyelid from the man on the bed. Breathing on his own was a good sign, though. He was bound to wake up anytime.

Not while Austin was there, though. He stayed a few more minutes, then unfortunately had to get to work.

•   •   •

Cracking jokes about someone else's misfortune is always more fun when the object of everyone's humor is around.

Austin crossed the room to his office and spotted a tight knot of officers talking in low tones. Their laughter was good-natured, but he wasn't in the mood for their ribbing.

“Heard Rainey got tranked like an elephant on safari.”

“True that.”

Reaching his desk, Austin lowered himself into his chair, gut churning in humiliation. Sick to his stomach, he was wishing he hadn't eaten breakfast. The cup of coffee he'd had that morning soured and roiled, threatening to rebel, but he willed it down with an effort.

Shaking with anger, Austin fished his keys from his pants pocket. The heavy ring contained the keys to his desk, which he always locked whenever he left. The key ring slipped from his grasp and landed on the tiled floor next to his chair with a tinny
plink
. Cursing, he tried to bend over and retrieve them. The awkward position caused his head to swim, and he straightened again without reaching them.

If the abrupt cessation of merriment from the jerks outside his office was any indication, they'd noticed
that the object of their teasing was seriously not amused. Whatever. It didn't matter.

“Jesus Christ,” one muttered, a man Austin recognized as Jenkins from Patrol.

Austin raised his head and forced himself to meet their stares, allowing every ounce of his irritation to slap them in their faces. The men shuffled in embarrassed silence for a few seconds.

“Rainey,” Jenk called, not quite meeting his gaze. “Glad to see you're okay.”

A round of agreement from the man's buddies ensued. Not trusting himself to speak, Austin merely nodded. Red faced, Jenk and the others began to drift off in different directions.

Not one of them had the balls to apologize.

Once they'd gone, Austin heaved a weary sigh and returned to the task of bending over to get his keys. A large tan hand appeared in front of him and deftly scooped them up, saving him the trouble. He sat up with a groan to see Tonio dangling the keys, grinning like an idiot.

“Here,” he said, tossing them onto the desk. “Fuck those ignorant assholes. They've been over there for twenty minutes, gossiping like a bunch of old women.” He parked his butt on the corner of Austin's desk, taking in his captain's appearance. “God, you look like shit.”

Leave it to Tonio to put his thoughts right out there. The man was nothing if not totally direct. “Believe me, I feel worse than I look.”

“Ouch.” The detective crossed his arms over his
chest. “You shouldn't be here so soon after what happened to you.”

“Same goes.
I'm
not undercover,” Austin reminded him. “If Romano finds out you've been within ten miles of this building, we'll be fishing your body from the Cumberland River.”

“Aren't you a ray of sunshine?” Tonio smiled, letting the warning roll off his broad shoulders. “I can watch my back just fine. Go home, Rainey.”

“I agree.” Danny walked over to stand beside Tonio, sober expression betraying his concern. “The guys and I have things covered here. You need to rest. You're no good to anybody at half speed.”

Bemused, Austin studied his two friends. The pair couldn't be more opposite. In some ways, Danny acted older and more mature than the dark, devilish Tonio, who was several years his senior. Though Tonio's girlfriend, Angel, had settled him down a lot.

“All right.” Austin laughed, holding out a palm. “You guys win. I'll take my files and work on them at home. Satisfied?”

“Works for me,” Tonio declared.

“By the way, Frankie Blair has called and apparently left a couple of messages on your voice mail,” Danny informed him. “He finally got through to me this morning. He's been trying to return your call, and he was concerned when he heard about your, um, incident on the news. Told him you'd get back to him.”

For the first time, Austin noticed the blinking red light on his phone. “Thanks. I'll give him a call and see if I can pay him a visit before I head home. I need to
find out if he's acquainted with Matt Blankenship or Rick Yates.”

“He is,” Danny confirmed. “I asked him when he called. Rick Yates is the friend who put him in touch with Blankenship for a recommendation on the graphic design job.”

Yes!
A lead, albeit a small one. “Good work.” Austin nodded. “Did Blair say anything else?”

“It was a short conversation. I told him we'd like to talk to him in person, and he was very cooperative.”

“Good. Let's pay him a house call. See where that road leads.”

Tonio stood, offering his hand to Austin. “I'm outta here. Watch your step with this crazy bastard. I can't afford to buy a suit for your funeral.”

Austin shook his hand, grinning in spite of himself. “Gee, you're all heart.”

“Tell it to my therapist.”

On that note, Tonio swaggered off, earning several appreciative and envious stares in his wake, both male and female. The man was a freaking magnet.

Danny went to speak with Glenn about another case, and Austin returned Frankie's call. Blair said he'd be happy to meet with them on his lunch break. After getting directions to Blair's apartment, Austin thanked him and hung up.

He unlocked his desk and removed the file he needed, but found his thoughts drifting to Laura. Did she miss him? Had she even thought of him at all? He liked to think so.

Women. Who could figure them?

“I don't think of you every second of the day, sweetheart,” he drawled, testing the lie. It burned like bitter acid on his tongue.

Shit
.

•   •   •

Danny offered to drive over to Blair's apartment, and Austin didn't argue. His head was throbbing, and he'd been forced to take a pain pill. He hated being less than one hundred percent on the job, but he disliked pain even more. Irritably, he slipped on his mirrored sunglasses to cut the bright sun threatening to deep-fry his brain.

Danny and Tonio were right. He had no business working today. Damn, had he been allergic to that roofie shit? Woozy, he scrunched his tall frame into his friend's Corvette and leaned against the passenger door, attempting to get comfortable.

Scowling, he adjusted his position again. “Why would anyone drive a little beer can like this? My prick is bigger than this car.”

“You're just jealous, my friend.”

“No way. I prefer lots of space. Besides, my truck is practical. I use it to haul feed for the horses, concrete, whatever. Or I did before Mom and Dad sold the horses.”

“Personally, I think guys who drive big, fancy muscle trucks are trying to make up for lack of size in another area,” Danny said with a grin.

“You wish, needle dick.”

Danny laughed, and they lapsed into companionable silence. His partner eased onto the Sugarland Tollway, heading north. Austin glanced at him, noting that he'd grown pensive. Maybe a bit troubled. About the case, maybe? As hard as he tried, Danny wasn't good at hiding his thoughts.

“You'll never work undercover, pal,” Austin teased, his attempt at humor falling flat to his own ears. “You'd be dead inside a week. What's on your mind?”

Danny snorted. “How does Tonio get away with it? I wonder.”

“Because he's full of shit. Don't change the subject.”

His partner hesitated, then shrugged. “I drove out to Dynamic Media Creations yesterday. Matt Blankenship's coworkers knew about his wild lifestyle. Even so, they were pretty shell-shocked about his murder. The guy was really well liked.”

“He wasn't a pariah. Interesting.”

“Nope, just the opposite. He kept his escapades out of the workplace. Meaning, he didn't play with coworkers. But he had lots of good friends, and while they laughed at his antics, they worried, too. One girl told me, ‘Matt's the class clown who never grew up. His games just got more serious.'”

“Well, the coworkers are a dead end in any case. We need to connect with his club crowd. Maybe Frankie Blair is the link.”

“Sure as hell hope so. We've gotta find something before the killer goes after you again. He hasn't called since you were sprung from the hospital?”

“No, but he will. He's stewing, working up to a rage. I can feel it.” The knowledge sent a chill down Austin's spine.

“Jesus.”

“Now, why don't you tell me what's really eating you?”

The corners of Danny's mouth lifted as he exited onto Wycliff. “Damn, what are you, a freakin' cop or something?”

“Danny.” He was starting to lose his patience.

“All right! I asked Laura to dinner,” he blurted.

Austin stared at him, lungs seizing in his chest. His friend hadn't made an idle threat the other day. He'd actually asked her. “When was this?”

“The day of your press conference, when you asked me to take her home. It was the evening the killer called you, the night before the stakeout.”

“That was days ago, Danny,” he replied tightly. “And neither of you bothered to mention it?”

“There was no need. She turned me down.” His friend shot him an uneasy look. “But I've been thinking.”

Austin's head started to pound again. He stared at his friend. Why hadn't Laura mentioned the invite? And where the hell was Danny going with this? “Christ, spit it out.”

“I know you and Laura have a thing going now, okay?” He sighed. “I'm your friend and I'd never try to poach even if I could. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” He trusted Danny.

“So, sure, I wanted to take her out, but she picked you. That's cool.” He paused. “But the thing is, the killer has probably seen her with you. So I'm thinking it's a good idea if he sees her with someone else as well.”

“Let me guess. You?”

“Well, you have to admit the idea doesn't suck. You don't want the murderer's attention on her, and if she's seen with someone else, that might do the trick. He'll believe she's less important to you than she is.”

He might trust his friend—but he still wanted to punch him at the moment.

“It's not a bad idea,” he admitted.

“Then we're cool? You're on board with the plan? I don't want a problem between you and me.”

“Sure, we're cool. As long as Laura agrees, that is.”

“Good.” The nervous tension in Danny's posture relaxed. “I sort of already asked her, and she agreed.”

Really? Like that didn't chap his ass or anything. But maybe he'd hurt her worse than he'd believed after they'd made love by the stream. Had he blown any chance with her? Maybe this was for the best. Danny was a good man, one with no baggage, no broken heart to protect. He could make her happy.

So could you,
a voice whispered.
Take the risk; you might just win this time
.

“I want protection on her for a while,” Austin heard himself say, as if through a tunnel. “Since she doesn't want to stay with me . . .”

“I'll crash at her place, if necessary. That's up to the lady.”

Danny and Laura. Under the same roof. Getting closer.

Common sense and knowing Laura better told him that she wasn't the type to jump from one man to another that way. That didn't stop a wave of sheer violence from surging through his blood, and he willed it down. If he'd screwed things up with her?
Nobody's fault but yours, Rainey.

Wisely, they let the subject drop. Danny turned onto a residential street and parked adjacent to Frankie's building. The aging condominiums, hunkered among tall, beautiful trees, were well kept. Flowers and potted plants adorned the various stoops, and an assortment of classy sports cars, sedans, and SUVs boasted of middle – to upper-middle-class inhabitants. Austin had been to this area only once before, but he knew the residents were predominantly gay men, both singles and couples. From Frankie's halfhearted attempt to pick him up at the Waterin' Hole, he'd gotten the impression the guy was definitely single. And looking for Mr. Right.

Austin was no homophobe. Hell, everyone deserved to be happy. God knew there wasn't much else worth fighting for in this sorry world.

Frankie's unit, number 115, was located on the ground level on the opposite side of the building. He followed the narrow walkway around the corner to the small landing, Danny close behind. He rang the doorbell and turned to admire the clusters of multicolored
moss roses edging the porch. Some of the condos were bare of flowers, so he figured Blair must've planted them himself.

The door swung open to Frankie's cheerful greeting—“Hey, Rainey, long time no see!”—which ended in a startled gasp. “Oh my
God
! What's with the Samsonite luggage under your eyes? They make cold cream for that.”

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