Текст книги "Once Kissed"

Автор книги: Cecy Robson

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Tess

Argyles. He called me Argyles. That’s the same nickname he gave me the morning after we, we…

I slap my hand over my head. Oh, my God, I need to get out of this. I need to get out of this now!

My urgent steps slow as the reality of my situation becomes abundantly clear: I can’t give up my opportunity to work with Declan. I can’t refuse police surveillance. I can’t request another police officer this soon. And there’s no escaping Curran O’Brien.

But then there never was, was there?

I lean against the wall and start flipping through the notes I took on my iPad.

I groan. Who am I kidding? My mind isn’t on work, it’s on Curran, just like it was from the first moment I saw him.

As rush chair of Kappa Omega Kappa, notoriously known as KOK, Curran was loud, obnoxious, and perpetually surrounded by girls who found him oh so charming and laughed at everything that came out of his mouth. I roll my eyes, remembering their constant giggling and overt flirting.

Oh, Curran. You’re so cute.

Oh, Curran. You’re so funny.

Oh, Curran, you’re such a nice KOK.

I stare at my screen, recognizing that I was one of those girls taken by his wit, his smile, and his striking looks. But I never expected him to notice me. Not with all the pretty girls in my sorority cozying up to him, and not when my eating disorder had left me so painfully thin. God, I was so unhealthy then, my hair so fine I couldn’t grow it out, and nails so brittle I had to keep them short. Throw in my dorky wardrobe and an awkwardness I never fully outgrew and, well, I never thought Curran would look my way.

Yet eventually he did, making me feel like I mattered.

I remember that day so clearly. It was the end of finals week our junior year. As the president of the college, my father discovered my stellar grades had been ruined based on my performance in my journalism class. The research paper I’d turned in counted as 90 percent of my grade, and I’d erroneously written it without checking the references against more reputable sources. The prof had scored it a 70, given the lack of credibility. Although I’d worked hard on it, the heavy course load in my double majors in politics and pre-law that semester hadn’t allowed me the time I needed to cross-reference my material.

Father was furious, and not only verbally thrashed me until I cowered and collapsed in tears, but forced me to rewrite the entire paper by hand—all forty pages—so I’d learn “my lesson” about not being lazy and turning in sloppy work.

“My lesson” had been one of many throughout my life used to humiliate me and destroy my will. And it worked. After years of being mistreated and reduced to nothing, I surrendered and obeyed.

Just like I do now.

I left his office that day a shuddering mess, forcing a smile as I passed his peers—because I was the daughter of Donald Newart, university president, political figure, respected member of the community, and overall idol. I had to keep up appearances. Yet all I could think about was finding the strength to kill myself so I could finally break free of his hold.

But I never tried. Too weak. Just like he always claimed, and exactly how he kept me.

I push off the wall and walk slowly back to the law library. To this day, his words sting because he continues to verbally berate me, reminding me of my incompetence, and how I can’t survive without his help.

My father should be my hero. He should be my greatest champion. He should mean everything to me, but he doesn’t.

He’s the only blood relative I have, and the man who gave me life. Yet I can’t stop myself from hating him.

The problem is, sometimes I hate myself more.

I enter the law library and slump into my desk chair, feeling a sense of defeat so great, everyone around me seems to vanish. With almost robotic movements, I log on to my laptop and begin saving my documents to their appropriate files. And although I try to focus, I can’t shake the memory of that day.

My fingers fiddle with the pages of the deposition I’d been working on. I hit an all-time low following the degradation in Father’s office. But instead of allowing me to wallow in self-pity, my sorority sister convinced me to “have some KOK,” as she put it, and dragged me to Curran’s frat party.

Curran was one of the rare few who never seemed to care who my father was. He saw me sitting alone and holding an empty cup, and sat beside me. He could have ignored me like everyone else, flirted with the skimpily clad girls, and drank and roughhoused with his obnoxious friends. Instead he edged closer, despite how I tried to avert my gaze, and drew out a smile I didn’t know I had in me.

“You’re really pretty when you smile,” he told me there on the couch…and once more the next morning when we awoke naked together.

I cover my eyes and lean forward. Now he’s here, to guard me on a case I can’t walk away from, one that can grant me a life of independence from my father.

A sharp rap at the door forces me to glance up. Nausea punches through every cell of my body when I see him standing at the entrance. No. There’s truly no escaping Curran O’Brien.

He marches in slowly, his expression tight. “You ready, Tess?”

That’s the name I went by in college, back when I had friends, and someone like him to make me smile. I nod, hurrying to shove the necessary paperwork in my large purse. “Yes. One moment please, Officer.”

Officer. I cringe at the word. It’s what he is, though, so why do I feel so stupid calling him that? Because you wrapped your lips around his tremendous penis, I remind myself.

“Who’s this?”

My shoulders slump. Burton. Of course he’d have something to say. I should ignore him yet I don’t, feeling like I need to defend Curran’s presence. “He’s my—I mean, he’s here to help me with the Montenegro case,” I manage.

“Help you?” Burton says, his laugh reddening my cheeks. He eyes Curran up and down. “If you say so, Contessa.”

Curran’s attention bounces to me as every part of me bristles. Something in my expression causes him to scowl, yet instead of addressing me, his attention shifts back to Burton. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he snaps, “but I’m the cop assigned to watch Tess’s back. Who are you, the office idiot?”

I rise slowly. I remembered Curran the joker, but forgot all about Curran the brawler. Unlike me, Curran doesn’t fear confrontation and isn’t afraid to take a swing.

Burton leans back in his chair and crosses his arms as silence stretches across the room, arrogance splaying along his face. “I’ll let that slide, given I’m a well-respected attorney.”

“A well-respected attorney?” Curran repeats, appearing unimpressed and slightly bewildered.

“That’s right.”

“Hmmm,” Curran mumbles, looking around. “And you work here? In a library? Mom and Dad must be proud.”

My, and doesn’t Curran have everyone’s attention now?

“Unlike your situation, mine is temporary,” Burton sneers. “Just biding my time until the next DA’s spot opens up.”

This time, it’s Curran’s turn to grin. “And how long has this temporary gig been going on?”

The smile vanishes from Burton’s face. “That’s none of your business.”

Curran keeps his smile, but his voice gathers a sharp edge. “And it’s none of your business what I am to Tess, asshole.”

Curran’s not bowing under Burton’s self-proclaimed awesomeness, and Burton doesn’t appreciate it one bit. “I think DA Fenske would take offense to your choice of vocabulary, Officer.”

Claims the man who called me a bitch.

“He didn’t seem to mind when he thanked me for putting my life on the line a few minutes ago—it’s what us boys in blue do to keep the community safe,” Curran fires back. “I know it’s not the same as filing books after spending two hundred grand on education, but he seemed to appreciate it.”

Burton rises to his full height, his face boiling over with rage. “Consider your inappropriate language and misconduct reported.”

His comment only widens Curran’s smile. “To who, my brother Declan O’Brien, the assistant DA? Nah, he can’t do much seeing how I don’t technically work here. And my captain probably wouldn’t pay much attention to a whiny little wannabe librarian.” He glances around the law library. “No offense to any of you. I’m sure you won’t wait as long as this dick has for a promotion that’ll never come. You seem smarter than that.” He turns to me then. “Ready, Tess?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m ready.”

I scramble to gather my belongings. Curran’s verbal ass-kicking will likely turn the other clerks further against me. Yet for now, I don’t care and do my best to squelch my smile.

I walk fast, hurrying down the hall toward the back stairwell. Curran easily keeps up. “Is there a fire?”

“No. The judge is waiting. They—the judges, I mean—don’t like to wait.”

“So why didn’t we go there first? Why’d you head back to the library?”

I push open the door leading into the stairwell, but it isn’t until the metal door shuts behind him and we reach the landing that I turn and face him. He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer what should be a simple question.

My mouth opens only to abruptly shut. He raises a brow, watching me and once more waiting for my answer. Damn it all. What is it about him? I’m a multi-published journalist, and can formulate complex paragraphs as easily as most draw stick figures, and yet Curran’s mere presence jumbles my thoughts like a roller coaster.

For a moment, all I can do is stare out of the wall of glass. Four levels down, pedestrians hustle through the busy Philly streets and aggressive drivers blare their horns in protest. Those scrambling below can see us, but are blind to my insecurities and deaf to my words. I shouldn’t be so nervous, and yet I am.

Curran intimidates the hell out of me—not because of his imposing presence, or that virtual arsenal clipped to his leather belt. Oh, no. He’s intimidated me since the first moment I met him—back when he wore a backward baseball cap and sweats, long before he’d carried a badge and gun. His easy smile and confidence brought women to their knees…including me.

I lower my chin. Daunting physique aside, Curran scares me. He’s seen a side of me no one else has, one I want to keep hidden. After all, I did a lot more than bask in his glory while I was down on my knees.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says. “Why didn’t we head to court first?”

“I needed to shut down my computer,” I respond, wishing my voice held more conviction.

“That could have waited. You hauled serious ass out of Deck’s office. Don’t tell me it’s because you couldn’t wait to get back to numbnuts back there.”

“No, of course not.” I blink up at him. Curran’s as tall as I remember, but his athletic build has widened to resemble more of a boxer’s physique than the soccer player I knew. I suppose with his line of work he needs more bulk, and that his days of fun and games are long over. “I needed a moment,” I admit.

“Why?”

My brows knit tight. “What do you mean, ‘why’? Because, well, because of—” His grin causes me to trip over my words. If memory serves, I awoke somewhat intelligent this morning. I clear my throat, the flicker of amusement lighting his eyes making it clear he’s enjoying my torment. “Your presence caught me by surprise,” I manage.

“Believe me, I almost fell off that damn chair when I realized who you were,” he says, chuckling. “Which leads me to ask, why the hell are you so pissed?”

“I’m not pissed.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I am not!”

“Then why are you yelling?” he asks, laughing harder.

“I’m not yelling,” I say, quieting. I glance around. “Listen to me, Officer O’Brien—”

“It’s Curran. But I think you remember that.” The edges of his mouth lift. “And my guess, based on how you’re acting, is you remember a lot more than that.”

My lips part and heat spreads along my body. “You…cad.”

“What?”

“I said you’re a cad!”

He removes his hat and sweeps a hand over his closely buzzed hair. “I heard what you said. I’ve just never heard anyone aside from Bugs Bunny use that word. You gonna call me a scoundrel next?” He holds up his hands in surrender when I all but stamp my feet. “Look, lighten up. I was just as shocked to find you here as you were to see me. But so what? What’s the big deal?”

I take a breath, willing myself to remain calm. “The big deal is, I’ve worked hard to get where I am. This internship can open doors, or it could close them tightly behind me. I don’t want my morals or position questioned because of my past, ah, indiscretions.”

“Indiscretions,” Curran repeats. “So you don’t want anyone to know we…went to college together.”

My attention falls to the soiled concrete that makes up the landing. “Yes. Please don’t tell anyone that we, ah, attended the same college, as you put it.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?” I repeat. “Really?”

“Yeah. I get it,” he assures me.

My shoulders relax as my worry lifts and dissipates in the coolness of the stairwell. Once more, my eyes sweep over his physique, stopping to scrutinize his face. I focus on each feature: those light blue eyes, his square jaw, and the curve of his nose. Miles Fenske was right. While glimpses of the young college student I knew remain, his visage reveals a man familiar with the rough city streets and the madness that comes with surviving them.

I shake my head in sympathy. Whatever he’s seen on the job likely hardened him in a way he wasn’t ready for, and forced him to mature into the man standing before me. Curran’s no longer that carefree frat boy I remember. I can see it. And in a way, it makes me sad.

“No one will know we went to college together,” he promises.

I place my hand against my chest. “Thank you,” I say, meaning it.

With that I turn and proceed down the second set of steps, stumbling over the last two when Curran yells, “But can I still brag about our crazy sex?”

Chapter 3

Curran

I try to lift Tess off the floor only to have her nail me in the shoulder with her little fist. “Hey, knock it off—I’m trying to help,” I say, laughing.

I reach for her again. This time, she smacks me across the chest with her giant purse. “Don’t you touch me, you cretin!”

I think about it. “I guess that’s a better word. Don’t remember Bugs using that one.”

“How about ‘asshole’? Did Bugs ever use ‘asshole’?”

“No. Come to think of it, I don’t think he did. Though it would have been damn funny if he had.”

Her pretty eyes narrow over her crooked glasses. “How did your mother not drown you at birth?”

I grin. “Ma wouldn’t do that. I’ve always been her favorite.” I hold out a hand. “Come on, let me help you up. The judge is waiting—you said so yourself.”

Instead of letting me help her, she pulls herself up by grasping the metal railing, clinging to it while she gathers her things. And although she’s limping, she pushes forward. “Looks like you did a real number on your knee,” I point out.

She stops halfway down the next flight and just glares at me over her shoulder. “No shit.”

I chuckle. “You said ‘shit.’ Aren’t you worried how that might affect your rep?”

She spins around at the next landing and points at me. “You are intolerable, unbelievable, and insufferable.”

“Yeah. I think you mentioned that once or twice back in college.” I wince. “Oh, sorry. I forgot that I’m supposed to keep our mutual education a secret.”

She stamps her feet all hissy-fit like. I didn’t think sexy broads did that. Come to think of it, I also didn’t think they wore argyles. “What’s up with you and those socks, anyway?”

Her cheeks flush to a deep red. “We were both young, and intoxicated, and, and—”

“You forgot horny.”

And holy Hannah, I thought for sure she was going to punch me in the nuts. Instead she lifts her chin and clenches her teeth. “Whatever. It seemed like a good idea at the time!”

I burst out laughing. “I wasn’t asking why you tied me up with them way back then—that I’m not complaining about—that was all kinds of hot. What I mean is, why do you wear those things?”

She opens and closes her mouth several times before finally forming her words. “They’re conservative,” she manages.

I lean against the wall. “Like you? And how you want others to see you?”

She presses her lips into a line. I don’t think she’s going to talk, but she does manage a small nod.

I smile. “Then that’s how it’ll be.”

“You won’t mention our time alone together?” she asks, staring past my shoulder.

I take one step down. Then another. And another after that until I’m standing right over her. “No. I wouldn’t do that to you, Tess.” I grin a little. “But if you knew me past our time in bed, you’d already know as much. Come on, let’s get you to court.”

For all I talk and screw around, I’m not one to drag a woman through the mud. The thing is, when Declan asked about me and Tess, I couldn’t lie. He knows me well enough to guess I’d been with her. There was no sense in denying it. That didn’t mean I’d go into detail. Even back in school when I thought for sure she didn’t like me, Tess seemed like a nice girl, just always kind of sad.

I’ll admit that when she wasn’t taken by my looks, wasn’t impressed by my athletic skills, and would avert her gaze instead of smile my way, I saw her as a challenge. She was sexy, in that understated way she is now, with the kind of mouth a guy like me needs to kiss. I figured eventually I’d get her to let me have a taste of those lips, and maybe even cop a feel. I just never guessed we’d end up in bed, doing what we did, as hard as we did it. Hell, out of all the women I banged—homely clothes and all—she was the one who rocked my world.

“You fucked Contessa,” Declan’s voice repeats in my head.

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear me the first time?” I asked him.

“Christ, Curran. I don’t need this shit right now.”

When he slumped in his chair and rubbed his face, I thought for sure he’d send me packing and back to the precinct—seeing what this case means to him. Declan doesn’t like drama. Not when it involves his rep, and especially not when it involves a woman. It’s the reason he’s quick to cut his lays loose and not look back.

But as mad as he was at learning Tess and I hooked up—and as much as he didn’t want anything to interfere with his ticket into the Homicide Unit—he wouldn’t let me off guard duty. And it pissed me off.

He doesn’t think I’m ready for the streets. Just like the sarge, the captain, and the boys back at the station. My first instinct was to rip into Declan. As my brother, he should have my back. But then I thought about Joey, and how he’s messed up for life ’cause of me. Damn, I have to admit that maybe they’re right. All of them.

Tess continues forward and reaches for the door leading out to the second floor. “Hold up,” I tell her, pulling her back before she can step through. I cut in front of her and sweep the area. “Okay. Clear. Stay to my left, and always stand where I can see you.”

“You’re serious?” She peeks over my shoulder, where a handful of people are hurrying to court. “Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“Yeah. I’m on the job.”

She takes a hesitant step before resuming her quick pace. Her limp’s better, but mostly because I think she’s pushing past the pain and not wanting to appear weak. My sister, Wren, once told me it’s hard being a woman in a man’s world, no matter how badass that woman is. S’pose she’s right, given how Tess straightens when she spots another suit glancing her way.

I know I pissed her off in the stairwell. But even so, she’d listened to what I had to say, and she keeps to my left as we cross the bridge. I stay just ahead of her, taking everything in.

Three sheriff’s deputies are on security detail at the courthouse entrance. Two take point at the metal detector; the other waits on the right to allow staff and badges through. Tess flashes her ID, gaining immediate access. One look at my badge and uniform and I’m waved through. I know the rookies from the academy. Damn, was it just last year I taught them to shoot? The old guy has done a few decades on the force. Never met him, and I’m not positive the other two remember me. But all three give me the eye.

Shit. Word travels fast when you screw up and your partner ends up full of holes.

My expression stays hard during our brief exchange of nods. Under other circumstances, I’d make small talk. Maybe crack a joke. But a lot has changed, and I don’t just mean guard duty with Tess. So I keep my focus ahead and my comments to myself.

We round the bend in time to catch a row of prisoners being escorted back to the jail in shackles. I clasp Tess’s elbow, keeping her in place. She motions to a squad of civilians passing by the prisoners. “There’s plenty of space to get through,” she says.

“Not saying there isn’t. But we’re waiting here till the perps pass through.”

What looks like a couple of clerks speed past us. “If it’s safer to wait, shouldn’t you stop them from going through as well?”

“They’re not you, and I’m not with them. In here, that’s all on the sheriffs unless shit goes down.”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” she says.

It’s not a dig, and I don’t take it that way. But I can hear the surprise in her voice. “What did you expect?”

Her attention falls to the floor. “Maybe more of what you were like in the stairwell.”

“That was different. There was no one there. Just you and me.”

Her cheeks flush. “I know,” she says, quietly.

She fumbles with her purse strap, even though there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. Her entire face is now bright pink. The hell?

Instead of staring at her like I want to, I do my job and scan our surroundings, taking in everyone who could be a threat. No one’s making eye contact. No one’s walking around in sunglasses. And more important, no one’s reaching for a gun to blow Tess’s head off. In truth, it’s too early for anyone to make a move—if they make one at all given her small role. Still, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t keep my eyes open…and off the pretty girl I’m supposed to be watching.

The deputies move the last of the prisoners forward and secure them behind the heavy metal gate leading back to the jail. I nod to Tess, giving her the okay to proceed.

From this point on I don’t know where I’m going, so I allow her to take the lead and shadow her closely, searching for anything that doesn’t seem right or doesn’t belong. I do have a damsel in distress, after all—and whether I want this lame assignment or not, I’m going to do the job right.

Hmmm. And now that I know whose body I’m guarding, and how nice that body’s ass bounces and twitches, maybe this gig won’t be so bad after all.

So long as I can keep my hands off that ass and everything bouncing along with it.