her soulmate? If he was really as humorless as he seemed, the rest of her life was going to be long and painful.
Luke clenched his hands into fists, grateful that they were tucked into the pockets of his coat so neither of his companions could see the motion. He wanted to strangle
that damned nosy photographer. What were the odds that she’d just ‘happened’ to be standing around on Forty-Sixth Street when they’d come out of the deli? No, it was far more likely that she’d been following them, that she’d tiptoed along behind them when they’d left the precinct for lunch and waited for an opportunity to interrupt and join in on their conversation. She might even have planned to follow them into the restaurant and eavesdrop. Unfortunately for her, the deli he’d chosen was barely big enough to hold their employees and a couple of customers. If she’d been in there, he would have spotted her immediately.
He refused on principle to admit that any of his irritation was related to the feelings she stirred in him. It didn’t mean anything that he’d spent the entire conversation fantasizing about having Jade Bailey in his bed and making sweet, gentle love to her. He didn’t do sweet or gentle as a general rule, but there was something about her that aroused every protective instinct he had.
She and Aaron exchanged friendly goodbyes, and with a sideways look at Luke that smacked of amusement, she disappeared across Seventh Avenue and into the noise and chaos of Times Square. She’d only been out of sight for a few seconds when Aaron turned to Luke and smacked his arm.
“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, and Aaron made an exasperated noise.
“You can’t be serious. Luke, did you see
that girl? She was the best thing that’s crossed your path in months and you were a complete jackass to her! No wonder you’re the only good-looking cop in Manhattan who can’t seem to get laid. You’re laboring under the insurmountable handicap of your crappy personality.”
“If you like her so much, why don’t you sleep with her?” Luke retorted, irritated all over again. Aaron was infamous among the cops at the precinct for having one of the most enthusiastic and indiscriminate sex lives in the NYPD. Surprisingly, Aaron shook his head.
“Normally I’d try, but Travis and I just got back together, and he is not the kind of guy who tolerates sharing.”
That explained more than it didn’t. Aaron slept with anything good looking, male or female, that crossed his path, but he was legitimately in love with Travis. Luke was pretty sure Aaron and Travis would end up together in the long run if Aaron could get his libido under control.
“You realize she’s just using us,” Luke said, heading reluctantly in the same direction the photographer had gone. They needed to get back to the station, but he was loath to cross her path again. “She must have followed us from the precinct.”
“To what end?” Aaron asked in a tone that suggested he saw his partner’s concerns as unnecessary paranoia. “So she could ask us some basic questions about precinct boundaries that she could have looked up on the Internet for herself? She didn’t even ask about the shooting, Luke.”
“She asked about something that happened at Le Cirque,” he persisted.
“Which is in a part of Manhattan we don’t cover,” Aaron pointed out. “We told her that, and she dropped it. If she ends up over at the Seventeenth Precinct, sleeping with some lucky East Side schmuck of a detective who was actually willing to exchange pleasant conversation with her, you’re only going to have yourself to blame.”
“She was never going to sleep with me,” Luke deflected. “She’s just interested in finding a story.”
“Nobody’s ever going to sleep with you if you keep giving people that hard-ass attitude crap when they try to be nice to you.”
“Whatever,” Luke muttered, heading down Forty-Sixth Street through the chaos of Times
Luke clenched his hands into fists, grateful that they were tucked into the pockets of his coat so neither of his companions could see the motion. He wanted to strangle
that damned nosy photographer. What were the odds that she’d just ‘happened’ to be standing around on Forty-Sixth Street when they’d come out of the deli? No, it was far more likely that she’d been following them, that she’d tiptoed along behind them when they’d left the precinct for lunch and waited for an opportunity to interrupt and join in on their conversation. She might even have planned to follow them into the restaurant and eavesdrop. Unfortunately for her, the deli he’d chosen was barely big enough to hold their employees and a couple of customers. If she’d been in there, he would have spotted her immediately.
He refused on principle to admit that any of his irritation was related to the feelings she stirred in him. It didn’t mean anything that he’d spent the entire conversation fantasizing about having Jade Bailey in his bed and making sweet, gentle love to her. He didn’t do sweet or gentle as a general rule, but there was something about her that aroused every protective instinct he had.
She and Aaron exchanged friendly goodbyes, and with a sideways look at Luke that smacked of amusement, she disappeared across Seventh Avenue and into the noise and chaos of Times Square. She’d only been out of sight for a few seconds when Aaron turned to Luke and smacked his arm.
“What the hell was that for?” he demanded, and Aaron made an exasperated noise.
“You can’t be serious. Luke, did you see
that girl? She was the best thing that’s crossed your path in months and you were a complete jackass to her! No wonder you’re the only good-looking cop in Manhattan who can’t seem to get laid. You’re laboring under the insurmountable handicap of your crappy personality.”
“If you like her so much, why don’t you sleep with her?” Luke retorted, irritated all over again. Aaron was infamous among the cops at the precinct for having one of the most enthusiastic and indiscriminate sex lives in the NYPD. Surprisingly, Aaron shook his head.
“Normally I’d try, but Travis and I just got back together, and he is not the kind of guy who tolerates sharing.”
That explained more than it didn’t. Aaron slept with anything good looking, male or female, that crossed his path, but he was legitimately in love with Travis. Luke was pretty sure Aaron and Travis would end up together in the long run if Aaron could get his libido under control.
“You realize she’s just using us,” Luke said, heading reluctantly in the same direction the photographer had gone. They needed to get back to the station, but he was loath to cross her path again. “She must have followed us from the precinct.”
“To what end?” Aaron asked in a tone that suggested he saw his partner’s concerns as unnecessary paranoia. “So she could ask us some basic questions about precinct boundaries that she could have looked up on the Internet for herself? She didn’t even ask about the shooting, Luke.”
“She asked about something that happened at Le Cirque,” he persisted.
“Which is in a part of Manhattan we don’t cover,” Aaron pointed out. “We told her that, and she dropped it. If she ends up over at the Seventeenth Precinct, sleeping with some lucky East Side schmuck of a detective who was actually willing to exchange pleasant conversation with her, you’re only going to have yourself to blame.”
“She was never going to sleep with me,” Luke deflected. “She’s just interested in finding a story.”
“Nobody’s ever going to sleep with you if you keep giving people that hard-ass attitude crap when they try to be nice to you.”
“Whatever,” Luke muttered, heading down Forty-Sixth Street through the chaos of Times
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