Sworn to Be His (The Archer Family Book 3) (3 page)

"Yeah, where would I find some poor sucker to agree to date me so that I can get another guy to notice—" She stopped dead, suddenly noticing the impressive cut of Derrick's jaw, the flex of his muscles while he held his food. Derrick who was always there for her. Derrick who was her beautiful, platonic friend.

"What? You come up with someone?" Derrick laughed, "I don't think Freddricks will go for it if that's what you're thinking."

"No, not Freddricks." She met his gaze and tried to impart as much meaning as she could.

In an instant, he shoved away from the table and waved his hands frantically. "Nope. You got the wrong idea there, lady."

"Derrick, come on."

"You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend? Who hell would believe that you and I would be together?"

For an instant she was stung. Wow. He really thought he was that much better looking than her. Of course, he
was
, but there was no reason to call attention to it. Not when everyone in the world could tell just by looking at them.

"It wouldn't be for that long. People would think it was just a hiccup in your sanity."

"Right. No way." He tossed his food in the trash and walked away to lean against the cement brick wall.

"I'll do all your paperwork for a week. Come on, it wouldn't even affect your life."

"Except we'd have to disclose it to the whole department and it would be a whole thing—"

"Please, half the people in here have slept together a time or two. Nobody will bat an eye. I'll fill everything out, and I'll do all your paperwork for two weeks. This is all I've ever wanted."

Derrick considered her for a long moment, then sighed. "One month. And the filing, too."

"One month, no filing."

"All or nothing."

She glanced out the window to where Zac was sitting in his cubicle, all chestnut and perfect and handsome. Smiling at someone with the full force of his stunning white teeth.

"Fine. One month and the filing, too. You won't regret it."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Derrick said, then left her beaming in his wake.

T
hree hours
and as many witnesses later, Jade slumped over a stack of paperwork on her desk and cursed herself for ever agreeing to help Derrick. Or, really, ever convincing Derrick to help her. The second she'd gotten back from lunch, she'd found what looked like a month's worth of overdue warrants and court orders waiting for her—unsorted and lacking any kind of organization. As usual.

Weren't military guys supposed to be more regimented than this? Wasn't that sort of their claim to fame? Why did Derrick Archer have to be the exception to the rule? And why oh why did that also have to be her problem?

To make matters worse, she hadn't seen Zac for the rest of the afternoon, either. He was probably hiding from her, sure that she'd do something else awkward and uncomfortable in his presence. Based on her track record, she had to admit that was a pretty strong possibility.

Glancing around for any superiors, she opened Facebook in her browser and looked for Derrick's name. Naturally, it was there with a little green orb next to it—
gotcha
.

Typing furiously, she shot him a message:

Jade Lockhart: What the hell is with all this paperwork? Did you break your hands in the past month?

Derrick Archer: I'll admit I've let a few things slide.

Jade Lockhart: Slide? More like avalanche.

Derrick Archer: Hey, it's not my fault if you didn't do your research before we made our deal.

Jade Lockhart: Technically we never shook on it, so...

Derrick Archer: Still all or nothing. Take it or leave it.

Sighing, Jade typed back.

Jade Lockhart: You're the worst, you know that?

Derrick Archer: On the contrary. I'm the best.

Jade rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair to catch a glimpse of Derrick. He was sorting through some papers—though it was hard to believe he had even more paper than what he'd already stacked on her desk—his black hair flopping in front of his eyes.

That always struck her as odd. The way he kept his hair so long. Not that it looked bad—where most men might look like skater boy wannabes, Derrick looked like he'd just stepped off the set of some television set. No, it was more the fact that Derrick had been in the military for so long that made her wonder at it. Didn’t most men usually keep the neatly shorn buzzcuts of the previous lives after they left the service?

And didn't most men occasionally mention it?

She shook off the last thought. She'd learned a long time ago not to mention Derrick's years of service to him, no matter the situation. It simply wasn't worth the steely coldness that always colored his eyes when the subject arose.

A ping from her monitor brought her back to earth, and she focused again on her screen.

Derrick Archer: Don't forget to fill out the relationship disclosure agreement with HR. I won't have it said that I'm a rule breaker.

Jade Lockhart: Even though you're on Facebook?

Derrick Archer: You and me both.

Jade smiled and typed a quick reply before opening the human resources page and downloading the form she needed. It was simple enough. ID numbers and names, mostly. Still, a strange sort of swirling settled in her stomach as she reviewed the canned information and filled in her name beside Derrick's.

What would pretending to be Derrick's girlfriend even look like? And more to the point—had a guy like Derrick ever even been with someone long enough to call them his girlfriend? She didn't know. And what would dating in the office look like?

It would have to be clear to everyone that they were together, especially if she wanted to get Zac's attention, but it couldn't be so in your face as to put their jobs on the line. Or to put their partnership in jeopardy. If they did this wrong and she wasn't allowed to work with Derrick again...

The swirling feeling in her stomach sank deeper and tied itself into a tight little knot. God, how had she not thought this through? How had she not considered the consequences?

She tried to picture a day when she didn't eat her lunch with Derrick or run her leads by him, but she came up with nothing. Nothing but sitting at her desk with her stupid lean cuisine and staring at the computer while she tried not to look at Detective Freddrick's unhealthy collection of troll dolls in the cubicle across the aisle.

That was no way to work. Hell, it was no way to live. She had to do something. Make a plan.

Jade Lockhart: Are you free tonight?

Derrick Archer: You know I'm only dating you at work, right?

Jade Lockhart: Yeah, but I think we need to come up with a plan for what that's going to look like. Want to go for some drinks and talk it over? I think I have some leads from an interview today, too.

Derrick Archer: You paying?

Jade Lockhart: You wish.

Derrick Archer: Fine. But it'll cost you five more court orders.

Jade Lockhart: Two

Derrick Archer: Three.

Jade sighed.

Jade Lockhart: You've got yourself a deal.

T
he fact
that the bar around the corner from the police station didn't have a biohazard sign in the window was a mark of the Department of Health and Safety's falling standards. Or maybe there was a sign and the window was simply too dusty for anyone to see it clearly. Whatever the case, Derrick walked into the place with trepidation and not a little bit of skepticism.

As soon as the door opened, loud heavy metal music blasted all around him and he skirted past bikers and their girls in order to sidle up to the varnished cherry bar.

The man behind the counter, a skeletal version of Steven Tyler, was on the far side of the room, talking to the woman he now recognized as Jade. Apparently the old guy said something funny, and she threw back her head as she laughed along with him.

"Hey," Derrick called to her, and she turned the full force of her smile on him before extending her copper mug in his direction. "Hey. Come sit down." She said something else to the barman before Derrick was in earshot, and the other man rushed away with another copper mug in hand.

"Why the hell would you come to a place like this?" Derrick glanced around.

"Don't say that too loud. One-eyed Jerry is sensitive to newcomers as it is." She winked at a man with a hunchback who was in the middle of throwing a dart at a hand-drawn cork board target.

"Are you about to tell me you have a whole secret life I don't know about? Because I have to tell you that is not what I signed on for."

Jade rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid." She lowered her voice and leaned in, "This is where you get the best snitches."

Derrick glanced around, careful not to allow anything to register on his face and even more careful not to show how deeply he breathed in her cinnamon apple scent.

In a whisper she went on, "I come here all the time. The bartender keeps me informed and in drinks."

As if to prove her point, the man was already trotting back toward them with a fresh drink in hand.

"Sully here makes the best Moscow Mule this side of the big island." She beamed at him and he smiled back a crooked, jagged grin.

Derrick followed their lead, but the man's smile dampened in return.

"Ignore him. You're new. It's gonna take awhile for them to trust you. Plus it doesn't help that you look like a cop."

"I am a cop."

"Even worse." Jade took a sip of her drink and then plunked it back down on the bar. "Okay, so what do you want to start with—the case or the plan for our so-called relationship?"

"Let's get the easy stuff out of the way first. The case."

"Dealing with the mafia is easier than pretending to be my boyfriend?" She raised her eyebrows.

"So far..." He didn't bother to finish his thought and Jade guffawed in response.

"Fine, whatever. So, I had three other witnesses this afternoon and basically none of them panned out."

"No big shock there."

"Except one." Jade held up a finger. "Her name is Crystal, and she's a dancer at the Slippery Beaver."

"The...what?"

"Hey, I didn't name it." She held up her hands in mock innocence.

"Okay, okay, so what did Crystal say that was so helpful?"

"She said she recognized one of the guys, not from the news but because he was one of her regulars. The club is one that Scaglietti and his guys launder money through. She said they're there almost every Friday night."

"So you...what? Plan to put a wire on her and send her in?"

"Strippers can't exactly hide wires. No, I was thinking we'd have to go undercover." She frowned at him, apparently waiting for something.

And then it clicked.

"You're going to go there undercover as a dancer? Why can't I just be a bartender instead?"

"Who do you think has a better chance at getting information? A scantily clad woman or a guy who looks like a cop?"

Derrick was silent, but he couldn't argue her logic. Still, the idea of her going into a place like that, with people like that...

"I'm going with you." he said at last.

"You don't—"

"I'm going with you. I'll pose as a customer. Nobody will notice me, but I can get pictures and case the place in a way you won't be able to."

This time it was Jade's turn to think. She pursed her full mouth silently, then gave him one single nod. "Okay, you've got a deal. So now that the easy part is handled..."

"We have to talk about your harebrained scheme."

"Not harebrained. Maybe just a little...unconventional."

"Call it whatever you want. It's nutty."

"Be that as it may, the more I think about this, the more concerned I get. I filed all the HR paperwork this morning and that's all ready to go, but I have no idea how we can be a couple and be professionals at the same time," Jade said.

"We'll have to spend a lot of time together."

"We already do that, though. I think we need to engineer some kind of spark or something. Some...flirtatious spirit."

"Flirtatious spirit? Are you serious?" Derrick asked.

"Dead serious. Now, come on. We've got to brainstorm how to flirt."

"Do you even know how to flirt?" he asked, and she blinked up at him with a blank expression before it contorted into something like anger.

"Of course I know how to flirt," she shot back.

"Okay, give me your best come on."

"Well you can't just put me on the spot like that. The best I've got is 'Hey there sailor.'"

"Which would work great if we were in the 1940s."  

"Fine then, how do you normally flirt with someone?"

"I don't normally have to try."

She rolled her eyes. "Why is that always your go-to response? Everybody has to try sometime."

"That's where you're wrong."

"Okay, well, um, what if we tried to hold hands?" She rested her palm on the bar top and Derrick reached out to take it. The second his skin met hers, it was like a little electric spark had fizzled up his arm and shot directly into his heart. For an instant, he nearly pulled away in surprise, but then he wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed gently.

"This is..." He started and she nodded.

"Weird." She finished for him. "So we could, I guess, hold hands during lunch."

"Right, Okay. We can do that."

"And we could also, I don't know, could we have nicknames for each other? Cutesy ones?"

"Like Sugar Tits?" He offered.

"I was thinking a little less graphic."

"Sugar Boobs?"

She frowned at him.

"Okay, fine. I'll come up with something else. I'll call you..."

"You can call me Jay. That was what an old boyfriend of mine used to call me."

Derrick grimaced. He wasn't sure why, but the idea of calling her by some affection another man had given her rubbed him the wrong way. "No, I don't think so. I'm going to call you Champ."

"And what am I supposed to call you? Slugger?"

"No, you can call me Dare. That's what they called me in the service." He said it casually, almost without thinking. In fact, he wasn't sure what had jogged his memory of the nickname to begin with. He hadn't thought of it in years, not since his last deployment. That name was one of the very few good things he had to hang on to from those days.

"Okay, then, Dare it is." she looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "We'll think of something else for you to call me."

"Yeah, I'll keep at it." He nodded.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a moment, then Derrick said, "So is that all? That seems like the basics."

"There's one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I was thinking...Kelly and Freddricks kiss before they leave every day."

"Yeah, so? They're..."

"They're together. And we're supposed to be, too. So if we're going to act like we're together, we're going to have to be able to kiss without it being weird."

"But it
is
going to be weird. It's going to be very weird."

"Right, so we're going to have to work through that and practice," Jade said.

"You want me to make out with you in a biker bar?"

At the words "biker bar" One-Eyed Jerry stopped mid throw and shot Derrick a warning glare. Or, really, half of a warning glare.

"
Shhh
," Jade shushed him. "They don't like labels. And no, nobody said anything about making out. We just have to, you know, master a good, natural kiss."

"Right." Derrick took another gulp of his drink, then glanced around the place. It wouldn't be so conspicuous to kiss her here. There was even one couple already going at it near the pool table and another whispering heatedly to each other in one of the ripped leather booths.

He considered leaning in, breathing in her scent, wrapping his hand in her hair, and he had to take another drink.

This was Jade.

Jade who regularly made jokes about his numerous girlfriends. Jade who was his friend, one of the few friends he'd held on to since leaving the service. Jade wasn't the sort of girl you kissed. She was the kind you held on to. The kind you didn't want to tarnish.