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Authors: Elisabeth Naughton
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entry.
Lisa moved toward the window and peeked through the curtain. A superior grin slid across her features. “Looks like I don’t have to call the cops after all.”
“Ah, pues bien,” he muttered, walking toward the entry-way. He jerked the door open and frowned at both the rush of humid air tumbling into the house and Officer Hailey Roarke’s amused expression. “Yeah?”
Hailey’s blue eyes narrowed. She hooked her thumbs in her gun belt. “Heard there was some trouble down at the docks.”
“You heard wrong.”
She glanced around the door into the living room, let out a low whistle, then stepped around him, her curly blonde ponytail wagging behind her. “Well now. This definitely doesn’t look like trouble.”
He slammed the door. Great. Might as well invite the whole damn neighborhood over, while they were at it.
Hailey stopped in the doorway to the shambled living room. “What did you do, Sullivan? Throw a wild party?”
He shot Lisa a look across the room. Her feline grin said she was enjoying every moment of this, just waiting for him to sweat. The realization had amusement trickling through his system, drowning the surge of anger.
Hailey’s gaze finally settled on Lisa, and she lifted her eyebrows in question. Rafe cleared his throat. “Lisa Maxwell. Officer Roarke.”
“Is she the one who was causing all the trouble down at the marina?” Hailey looked his direction. Her eyes shifted from his damp clothing up to his face. “The one that got you all…wet?”
“Yeah. Same one.”
Lisa’s victorious grin faded. “Hold on—”
“Wanna press charges?” Hailey cut in.
“Hell, yes,” Lisa exclaimed.
Hailey glanced back at Lisa and held up a finger. “Not you.” She turned toward Rafe. “I can run her down to the station if you want.”
Lisa’s eyes grew wide. Unable to bite back a smile, Rafe slipped his hands into his wet pockets and rocked back on his heels. “If you strip-search her, can I watch?”
Lisa’s mouth fell open.
Oh , querida, if you knew what I wanted to do to that mouth, you’d close it, right now.
Hailey slanted a cheesy grin his direction. “You never change, Rafe Sullivan.”
Her words pulled him back from the fantasy taking root in his mind. “What made you think I had?” He turned for the kitchen. “I need a beer. You want one?”
“Gosh, yes. I had the day from hell.” Hailey stopped near an overturned wicker chair. “Are you planning to report this? ’Cause if so, you can’t touch anything yet.”
Rafe scowled and looked toward Lisa. “I already know who did it.”
“And?” Hailey asked, waiting.
“And pull up a chair. If you can find one that hasn’t been busted to hell and back.”
Hailey righted a chair and plopped down onto the seat with a grunt. “Fine by me. Saves me a bunch of work. I’m pooped.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I swung by the marina on my way home. Tim Kelly said you went for a swim at the docks.” She laughed and shook her head. “I would have paid to see that.”
Rafe frowned at the mess in the kitchen as he searched for a bottle opener in the drawer. “Timmy-boy needs to get a life. It wasn’t all that exciting.”
“Dammit, Rafe,” Hailey exclaimed, lifting a ripped blue throw pillow off the floor. “My grandmother made this.”
He walked back into the room with three longnecks, handed her one. “She made that? Are you sure? I thought you took all that crap with you.”
Hailey frowned as she slipped her fingers around the beer he offered. “She made it for you, you big jerk.”
Lisa’s eyes widened, and understanding ran across her delicate features as she glanced between the two. Was it jealousy causing that startled look? Some juvenile feeling inside made him hope so.
“Look.” Lisa held up her hands. “Can we just skip all this domestic squabbling and get down to business?”
Rafe held out the third beer to her. She swatted at him. “I don’t want a
Lisa moved toward the window and peeked through the curtain. A superior grin slid across her features. “Looks like I don’t have to call the cops after all.”
“Ah, pues bien,” he muttered, walking toward the entry-way. He jerked the door open and frowned at both the rush of humid air tumbling into the house and Officer Hailey Roarke’s amused expression. “Yeah?”
Hailey’s blue eyes narrowed. She hooked her thumbs in her gun belt. “Heard there was some trouble down at the docks.”
“You heard wrong.”
She glanced around the door into the living room, let out a low whistle, then stepped around him, her curly blonde ponytail wagging behind her. “Well now. This definitely doesn’t look like trouble.”
He slammed the door. Great. Might as well invite the whole damn neighborhood over, while they were at it.
Hailey stopped in the doorway to the shambled living room. “What did you do, Sullivan? Throw a wild party?”
He shot Lisa a look across the room. Her feline grin said she was enjoying every moment of this, just waiting for him to sweat. The realization had amusement trickling through his system, drowning the surge of anger.
Hailey’s gaze finally settled on Lisa, and she lifted her eyebrows in question. Rafe cleared his throat. “Lisa Maxwell. Officer Roarke.”
“Is she the one who was causing all the trouble down at the marina?” Hailey looked his direction. Her eyes shifted from his damp clothing up to his face. “The one that got you all…wet?”
“Yeah. Same one.”
Lisa’s victorious grin faded. “Hold on—”
“Wanna press charges?” Hailey cut in.
“Hell, yes,” Lisa exclaimed.
Hailey glanced back at Lisa and held up a finger. “Not you.” She turned toward Rafe. “I can run her down to the station if you want.”
Lisa’s eyes grew wide. Unable to bite back a smile, Rafe slipped his hands into his wet pockets and rocked back on his heels. “If you strip-search her, can I watch?”
Lisa’s mouth fell open.
Oh , querida, if you knew what I wanted to do to that mouth, you’d close it, right now.
Hailey slanted a cheesy grin his direction. “You never change, Rafe Sullivan.”
Her words pulled him back from the fantasy taking root in his mind. “What made you think I had?” He turned for the kitchen. “I need a beer. You want one?”
“Gosh, yes. I had the day from hell.” Hailey stopped near an overturned wicker chair. “Are you planning to report this? ’Cause if so, you can’t touch anything yet.”
Rafe scowled and looked toward Lisa. “I already know who did it.”
“And?” Hailey asked, waiting.
“And pull up a chair. If you can find one that hasn’t been busted to hell and back.”
Hailey righted a chair and plopped down onto the seat with a grunt. “Fine by me. Saves me a bunch of work. I’m pooped.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I swung by the marina on my way home. Tim Kelly said you went for a swim at the docks.” She laughed and shook her head. “I would have paid to see that.”
Rafe frowned at the mess in the kitchen as he searched for a bottle opener in the drawer. “Timmy-boy needs to get a life. It wasn’t all that exciting.”
“Dammit, Rafe,” Hailey exclaimed, lifting a ripped blue throw pillow off the floor. “My grandmother made this.”
He walked back into the room with three longnecks, handed her one. “She made that? Are you sure? I thought you took all that crap with you.”
Hailey frowned as she slipped her fingers around the beer he offered. “She made it for you, you big jerk.”
Lisa’s eyes widened, and understanding ran across her delicate features as she glanced between the two. Was it jealousy causing that startled look? Some juvenile feeling inside made him hope so.
“Look.” Lisa held up her hands. “Can we just skip all this domestic squabbling and get down to business?”
Rafe held out the third beer to her. She swatted at him. “I don’t want a
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