Ash Rising (DEAd Series) (28 page)

“I am.” He laughed before his expression grew serious. “I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow after work? I’ll make you dinner. Or take you out to dinner, if you want to go out. We don’t have to go back to my place. Love to have you there, but that’s not all I want. The things we do—that we did—at my place, I mean. I want that, but that’s not all I want.”

He groaned, burying his face in her neck. “Fucking hell, I’m babbling like a schoolgirl. Kill me now.”

She placed her hand on his cheek and turned his head so he had to look at her. “I’d love to see you tomorrow. After work. Dinner. I’ll make it. Your place.”

“Oh, thank you. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She couldn’t help grinning like a knucklehead. He was so damn appealing.

“This won’t cause trouble for you, will it? At work? I mean, I’m not involved in your investigation, but I am. We don’t work together, not directly, but we kind of do.”

“I’ll disclose—you’ll have to as well. But this shouldn’t cause me any trouble. Not with my superiors, at least.”

“Good. I want to see you, Emmaline, outside of work. I liked being with you today. And not just sexually, although that was amazing. I want to see you.”

“I want that, too.” God, she liked him. Was interested in him, everything about him, and she wanted more.

“Good,” he repeated. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“After work.”

“After work,” he confirmed and then grinned. “Good night, Emmaline. And thank you for today. I enjoyed spending it with you.”

Oh, he was a charmer, and deadly. She might be making a big mistake, but she wanted to believe him. So she did.

“Me, too. Good night, Ash.”

He took her hand and kissed her fingers, a romantic, old-fashioned gesture that had her brows rising. He winked a gorgeous blue eye as he added a lick, swiping his tongue across the backs of her knuckles. Emma laughed through the ripple of pleasure.

She liked the laughing. She liked the licking.

She liked him. A lot.

Emma made it to work early on Monday morning, even after sleeping like the dead. Her mind had whirled with the events of the day, but her body bore the results, and she’d gone under as soon as her head hit the pillow. Savoring the aches and stings of well-used muscles and tissue, she reveled in the swooping highs at the recollections of Ash’s touch on her skin, the plummeting lows of worrying about what they’d done.

Terrified at the possibility of falling in love.

Emma brought the subject up as soon as she walked through the door of the cramped office she and Jim shared and spotted him already at his desk. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.” Jim shuffled through a stack of papers, looking for a file. “Got some information on the McCrimmon kid. Tagged you about it last night, but guess you were busy.”

At least his focus wasn’t on her to see the flinch. “Yeah, well. About that, um…”

“What, did you go out and hit a couple of crazy clubs?” Jim snorted at his attempt at humor. “I always figured you for a wild thing under that cool, collected exterior.”

Ugh, another flinch. She’d been anything but cool and collected with Ash, and the thought heated her skin and thighs. At her continued silence, Jim turned to her with a raised brow and delighted hoot when saw her face.

“You did go out this weekend. Didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well, kind of. That’s what I need to talk to you about. Disclosure.”

“Like girl talk?” Jim’s eyes gleamed as he slid his chair closer. “You going to share all the dirty, intimate details of your weekend? Please?
Please let them be dirty.”

He grinned and rubbed his hands together, and his glee made what she had to tell him that much worse. Well, hell.

“No. This is more along the lines of official business. A formality. Kind of.”

“You
were
working last night?” His face fell so fast she would have found it comical if she weren’t worried about his reaction to the events of her weekend.

“No.” Emma threw her hands up. Her personal life was no one’s business, but she had to be sure she covered all her bases to avoid any hint of impropriety. “I was with Ash last night.”

“Ash? Beaulieu? So you were working.” His gaze narrowed on hers with the beginning of suspicion. “Weren’t you?”

“No,” Emma muttered. “No. We weren’t working. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“You went out for drinks. You sat around and talked about the case. About the US versus Canada hockey game last Olympics. Come on. Right?” His expression and the fact he scooted his chair away from her said he knew his guesses weren’t correct. “Emma?”

“No,” she said for the third time. “God. No. We, you know… God.”

His mouth fell open. “You slept with him?”

“Yes. Well, not slept, not much.” A horrified laugh burst from her when she realized how juvenile she sounded, but the look on Jim’s face was priceless.

“You fucking slept with Beaulieu.”

“Could you keep it down?” Emma stalked over to slam the office door shut. “The whole squad doesn’t need to hear this, thank you very much.”

“They’re going to know. They’re all going to know.”

Emma snorted another laugh at his dramatics, but he shook his head.

“You don’t understand. Ash is… Well, everyone loves talking about him around here. He’s like a folk hero. A legend. People wish they were him. When they find out he got you? Only going to make things worse.”

“What do you mean ‘got me’?” Emma growled.

“Well, you have attracted a lot of attention. Good-looking woman, smart, capable, American, the way you carry yourself. Lots of people look, but no one dares approach. You’re all business—you just put off that vibe. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but…” He shook his head, and Emma narrowed her eyes in warning.

“But what?”

“Figures Ash would break through that professional barrier thing you’ve got going.”

“I don’t think I like the way this conversation is going. I didn’t tell you so I could be the subject of locker room talk or to polish whatever reputation he has. I told you because he and I are colleagues, and you and I are colleagues. I’ve already made a note in my report and to my superiors. I don’t want there to be any problems professionally.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem for the case, even though it is a bit of a grey area.” He gave her a meaningful look, and she barely refrained from rolling her eyes and adding to her juvenile behavior. “You two do have to work together, but I know neither of you will let whatever you’ve got going on to affect your ops.”

“Then what is it?”

“You didn’t know him before. Before the explosion. I would’ve given you more credit than that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Heat rose from the pit of her stomach, spread through her chest—indignation both on her behalf and Ash’s.

“I like Beaulieu. I really do. We’ve worked together on a number of cases, and he’s a good cop. But no denying his personal life is something else entirely. He’s been with a lot of women. A lot.”

“I know, Jim. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve heard them from him.”

“And you think he’s changed?” He gave her a derisive look. “That’s what I would have given you more credit for, Justice.”

Jim wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t told herself. “I get what you’re saying. But I don’t know what he was like before, so how would I know if I even wanted to change him? I can only go by what I know of him now, and I like him.”

“He hasn’t been anywhere near the same person since the bombing,” Jim admitted. “But that’s not necessarily a good thing. He went through a lot of shit both physically and mentally. And he’s still had women. Maybe not as many, but still.”

She arched a brow to make her point. “And are you telling me you haven’t been with any women in the past year or so, either? That you haven’t dated, gone out with, or kissed—or more than kissed—any women?”

“No.” His cheeks reddened at the admission. “But I’m not in the same league as Beaulieu.”

“Maybe not. Look, I’m not saying we’re going to set up house or anything long term, because who knows? I’m informing you of our involvement, that there’s a personal relationship between us now. I’m reporting in like the good little agent I am, so no one gets their panties in a bunch.” Besides her. She hoped Ash would bunch her panties—right off. Okay, no thoughts of Ash and her panties in the same sentence while she was at work.

“Is it a relationship, Emma? I’m not being an ass. I’m honestly curious. Not just a one or two time kind of thing? On either of your parts?”

Emma recalled the day before, the things they’d done, what they’d said, and most importantly, how she felt. Ash hadn’t been playing games with her, telling her pretty lies just to get himself off and then kick her out the door. He’d been up front with the terrible, wonderful words he’d spoken before he’d taken her to bed, but she suspected that little speech was an attempt to convince himself as much as her.

They had more than just a convenient fuck. He’d held her, asked her to stay, to see her again, and he hadn’t been playing her. Not with the conversations they’d had when they were exhausted and sated in the dark, the way he’d held and touched her, his voice when he’d spoken of things between lovers.

No. She’d felt something more. She didn’t know what, but it was more.

“No,” she said out loud. “Not just a one night stand. That’s why I’m telling you. Do you think I’d put myself through this embarrassment if it was a mistake or a one-off?”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “A one-off. Jeez, Emma.”

“Well, isn’t that what they call it these days?”

He laughed, and she knew they were going to be okay. “I guess.”

She moved to her desk. “Well, I’m glad that’s over with. Didn’t you say you had some information to share?”

“Stay at the house for the weekend.” Ash took her hand as they left the headquarters building.

Exhausted and frustrated from the lack of progress she and Jim had made in the Salvatores’ murder investigations over the past few weeks, spending a couple days letting Ash both thrill and soothe her sounded absolutely perfect.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she admitted.

“Standing invitation. You can stay whenever and for however long you want.”

Oh, how she wanted him to mean those words.

“Can I have my own room?” she teased, leaning against him and hoping he’d kiss her.

He laughed, tightening an arm around her waist and then turning away to open her car door. “Absolutely not. You don’t spend time in any bed other than mine.”

“I like the sound of that.” She sat in the driver’s seat, trailing her fingers down the center of his chest and along the front of his pants before she placed them primly on the wheel.

“You’re killing me, Emma.” He slipped the hair away from her neck and bent down to nibble on her earlobe.

“Hurry,” she whispered, tilting her head to give him better access, and he groaned. “Let’s go home.”

Home
.

Rain fell as they pulled up at the lake house. The garage had two double bays to hold four cars, and Ash hit the opener to pull the Mustang into its usual spot. Emma parked her rental in front of one of the closed doors and grabbed her laptop and duffel out of the back seat before coming through the one he’d opened.