Read Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold) Online

Authors: Tee O'Fallon

Tags: #Select Suspense, #Contemporary, #big city, #Law Enforcement, #cop, #mistaken identity, #protector, #Sexy cop, #Romantic Suspense, #small town, #tortured hero, #Secrets, #Romance, #NYPD, #running from their past, #Entangled, #bait and switch

Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold) (12 page)

BOOK: Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold)
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“I didn’t say that.” A devilish gleam came into her eyes. “Remember—”

“I remember.” He held up his hand. “A girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

“You’re learning.” She grinned as she licked her lips. Slowly. Enticingly. Thoroughly. The tip of her tongue slid across her upper lip from one end to the other, then slicked over her lower lip with the same erotic finesse.

Any more of this and I’ll come.

Mike set the metal clipboard on his lap, repositioning it twice before finding a comfortable spot that also covered his raging hard-on. He yanked a pen from where he’d clipped it to the pad of paper.

Raven took that moment to snort, as if she knew his secret. When he looked at the dog, he was pinned with an intense chocolate-brown stare.

That dog knows exactly what I’m thinking.

When Raven opened her mouth and began to pant, Mike could swear she was laughing at him, taking sadistic feminine pleasure at the physical torture he was enduring. With the grace of an athlete, Raven got up and laid her head in Cassie’s lap. Cassie gently ran her hand over Raven’s head and ears, then dropped a kiss on the silky black head.

“I can see how much you love that dog.” Mike was reminded of the close boyhood bond he’d shared with his German shepherd.

“She’s my rock.” Cassie smiled down at Raven, giving her another scratch on the ear. “My canine BFF.”

As Shania Twain crooned away in the background, he took a clear, concise statement from Cassie as to what happened inside the Nest before he’d slipped in the back door. She recounted the facts like a pro. No embellishment, almost like a cop.

The clipboard clattered on the table when he set it down and looked out over the yard. The setting sun bathed the evening sky in a dusky orange hue. An elusive emotion gripped him. One word came to mind when he thought of this town without Cassie in it: empty.

He cleared his throat. “Tim Harding’s lucky as hell things didn’t turn out worse or he’d be pushing up daisies.”

“But what if things had turned out differently?” Cassie asked. “What if Abby or Rose had been killed because of what I had done, because I made the wrong decision? I don’t think I could have lived with that. I don’t know how anyone could live with something like that on their conscience.”

Mike leaned back in his chair. He gripped the pen he’d been writing with so tightly the plastic cover cracked. “Some people can. Some can’t.”

Police photographs flashed before his eyes. Years had passed, but he could recall every gory detail with painful clarity. A woman’s body—covered in blood from multiple stab wounds to the chest.

He touched his fingers to the old scar on his forehead. Sometimes he could still feel the raw, stabbing pain, as if the injury had happened only yesterday.

Cassie eyed him intently. “Something tells me you’re talking from personal experience.” Her clear, perfect skin wrinkled over the bridge of her adorable and equally perfect nose.

“All I can say is that we make the best choice we can at any given time. Sometimes it’s the right choice, sometimes it’s not.” Sadly, for him it had been the wrong choice. “Doesn’t mean we were wrong or that we should have done things differently. It’s normal to second-guess your actions after being in a tight spot, but Monday morning quarterbacking won’t change a thing.”

“You’re good at this.” Cassie tipped her lips into a weak smile. “You should have been a psychologist.”

He tossed the broken pen onto the table where it rolled against his clipboard. “I’ve just seen enough crap on the job to know how cathartic it can be for victims of violent crime to get things off their chests.”

For most people, anyway. Not me.

Not one of the department shrinks had been able to rid him of his pain and guilt. Leaving the NYPD had helped, but it hadn’t healed him.

Probably nothing will.

Cassie covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned.

When a woman yawned on a guy, it was definitely a cue to leave. He pushed out of the chair. “You need sleep. It’s the best thing for you right now.”

Cassie stood and threw her arms around his neck. Every place her body pressed against his screamed from the agony of not being able to do with her what he wanted. More to the point,
to
her.

“Don’t go.” She tilted up her beautiful face, her eyes half closed. “Dance with me.” A siren’s smile crept to her lips before she rested her head against his chest.

She had no way of knowing, but at that moment, Mike was lost. He wrapped her in his arms and buried his face in her soft, wavy hair. The scent of lilacs came to him, at least he thought it was lilacs. Either way, she always smelled so flowery and felt so good, all soft and curvy.

Knowing it was exhaustion and alcohol responsible for Cassie lowering her defenses kept him in check. That and his own personal experience at dealing with extreme, life-altering crises. When it had happened to him, he couldn’t control the stupid-ass things he’d said and done. In less than a minute he could have Cassie upstairs, undressed, and himself buried deep inside her hot, tight body. But even if she wanted him half as much as he craved her, no way would he have sex with her after the traumatic event she’d been through.

And with Cassie it wouldn’t be just sex. Damned if he understood why that was, but the truth of it was a certainty.

They continued swaying to the music, bodies pressed snugly together. He was rock hard, and his jeans had never fit tighter or more painfully. Mike let out a rumbling sigh that was just short of a full-fledged groan.

Things would never be the same in Hopewell Springs. Since Cassie had come to town, the place had gone from quiet and dull to wild and crazy within a few weeks, and everything centered around the vivacious redhead he held in his arms.

She pulled her head from his chest and rose on her toes to kiss him square on the mouth. He rested his hands in the curves of her waist and pushed away from her before this went somewhere it shouldn’t.

“Woman, you are testing my resolve beyond human limits.”

She stared up at him from the greenest depths he’d ever seen. An impish smile played at her lips. “You’re a cop. I didn’t realize you were human, too.”

“Trust me.” Mike gritted his teeth as his jeans stretched tighter over his crotch. “I am.”

“I really am sorry about the chili thing,” she said as she traced his lower lip with her finger.

At that very moment, Mike couldn’t care less that she’d tried to poison his lunch. It was taking every ounce of concentration not to open his mouth and suck on her finger.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

When she stood on her tiptoes again and touched her lips to his, Mike knew he would forgive her anything.

Her lips molded perfectly to his, opening, inviting. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, probing, entwining with hers, tasting, swirling. She moaned, a sound that nearly made him come undone. Her taut, erect nipples branded his chest, her large, soft breasts flattening against him.

Sweet Jesus.

As Mike slid his hands to cup her buttocks and haul her against his ever-growing hard-on, he kissed her deeper. Warm, slender fingers slid beneath his shirt to knead his back. Lightning bolts shot straight to his groin.

Not now, not like this. Think with your head.

Your
other
head.

Reluctantly, he withdrew his hands from Cassie’s firm buttocks and rested them at her hips.

“What you need more than me tonight is sleep.”

“Fine,” she answered. “Come upstairs and sleep with me.”

“If I come upstairs with you, I guarantee you won’t get any sleep.”

She slanted him a saucy, seductive look. “That’s the plan.”

“Not that I’m completely opposed to sex on the first date,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on her nose, “but we haven’t
had
a first date.”

Beneath the haze of exhaustion, her eyes brightened. “Then let’s have one. Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Are you saying yes, Chief?”

What he ought to do was leave. Get out of her life and stay out. It was the best thing for them both. “I guess I am.” So much for what he
ought
to do.

Cassie’s eyes nearly closed, and she yawned again. When he swung her up into his arms, she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed, half asleep already.

Raven scrambled to her feet.

“C’mon, Raven.” Mike carried Cassie to the screen door and hooked it open with his finger. Using his foot, he held the door while Raven padded into the kitchen. After locking up, he headed to the staircase. Raven already waited for them on the top step.

At the top of the stairs, he paused. Right or left? Raven trotted to the right and disappeared into a room at the end of the hall and Mike followed. The light scent of lilacs hit him as soon as he walked in. An antique brass bed with a thick white spread took center stage in the room atop a large floral rug. White sheer curtains rippled in the breeze coming through the open windows. Two old oak dressers took up the remaining wall space, along with a purple chaise lounge and stained-glass floor lamp.

Raven yawned, then circled twice on the floral rug and lay down.

Mike laid Cassie on top of the bed, supporting her neck as he eased her head onto the pillow. He pulled off her shoes, tossed them to the floor, then leaned down to drop a chaste kiss on her lips. She reached for him, parting her mouth to kiss him again.

“Tempting.” He pulled her hand away. “Tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear.

The ghost of a smile came over her beautiful mouth as she quickly fell into a deep sleep, her breathing becoming slow and even.

Mike watched her for a few minutes then headed to the bedroom door. He turned at the sound of a light moan. The smile on Cassie’s mouth had vanished. Concerned, he watched a few minutes longer. The creamy skin on her forehead bunched into a frown. Her eyes shut unnaturally tight. She began to toss and turn, gripping the bedsheets in her fists.

“Ah, shit.” No way could he leave her like this.

He dragged his hand down his face, then kicked off his shoes and went around to the other side of the bed. He eased onto the mattress and tucked in tight behind Cassie. She nearly whacked him in the jaw with one of her flailing arms before settling onto her side, facing him.

“Shh, honey. It’s gonna be all right.” He imagined she must be reliving what had happened earlier in the day at the Nest.

He slid his arm around her shoulder and pressed her head to his chest. She sighed in her sleep and rested her hand on his crotch. His body instantly strained against his jeans. He hissed in a breath and repositioned her hand onto his stomach.

Christ, it’ll be a long night.

He focused on Cassie’s breathing, which had begun to even out the minute he tucked her against his chest. She snuggled in tighter until the upper curve of her breast peeked out the top of her shirt.

Sleep? Not a chance. But he’d forego sleep to keep her safe day
or
night. Hell, he’d do anything to protect her, and that definitely had nothing to do with professional responsibility. As that unexpected revelation jabbed him in the gut, so did another.

For the first time since leaving the NYPD, he might be ready to talk about what had happened to him during the domestic call that had gone bad and the aftermath of the IA investigation. The possibility began to take root that maybe he could exorcise the demons from his past and make a fresh start. And Cassie was the reason.

Against his will, he’d let her in.

Chapter Eleven

Cassie hitched her purse over her shoulder and walked briskly across the Nest’s parking lot. She clicked the fob on her key chain and the Trail Blazer doors locked with a
thunk
behind her. She pushed open the Nest’s rear door and froze.

“Surprise!”
everyone shouted as they rushed forward to hug her.

An oversize donut as large as a small tire and slathered in pink and white icing perched on top of a cake platter on the butcher-block table. Someone had adorned it with bright pink candles, the flames of which danced and flickered in the draft.

As the clapping continued, tears filled Cassie’s eyes and a lump the size of a softball clogged her throat. Rose put her arm around Cassie’s shoulders and urged her forward. “We wanted to show our appreciation for what you did yesterday.”

For a moment, Cassie was speechless. Then she wanted to laugh at her friends’ choice of pastry. Everyone knew the stereotype that cops loved donuts. They just didn’t know she was a cop.

“Thank you, all of you,” she finally managed to mumble. “I can’t believe you did this for me. From where I was standing, Mike saved all of us.”

Rose nodded. “I have to give the man credit, but you saved Abby and her baby and kept that crazy kid calm until Mike could get here. I’d say that’s something. But fear not. I’ll be sure to extend my thanks to him in the form of free chipotle chili for the rest of his life. And,” Rose added, “I’m thinking you’ll find your own way to thank him as well.”

Sue and Ginny giggled and even Cassie couldn’t help smiling. She
would
find her own way to thank Mike. Her stomach did a little somersault in anticipation of their date later that evening. She’d woken in the morning to find him gone, but a note lay on the empty pillow next to her.

I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear a dress. Mike.

“By the way,” Rose added with an amused, knowing gleam in her eyes, “Mike certainly took his sweet time taking your statement last night. I made Jimmy drive by your place twice to check on you, and both times Mike’s truck was parked out front. I would have phoned, but I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

Leo and Danny snickered like teenage boys, letting Cassie know there was no doubt in their minds what Mike had been doing at her house last night. Too bad they were all wrong. Too bad
nothing
had happened last night.

She glared with feigned indignation, but secretly she loved the camaraderie that existed between all of them.

“Now cut your donut.” Rose handed her a serrated knife. “We can all use the sugar rush before the place cranks up for the day.”

Cassie began cutting the donut into thick wedges. “Speaking of
we
, where’s Chuck?” She’d noticed he was conspicuously absent from the kitchen.

“Pennsylvania.” Rose helped pass out hunks of donut. “His father fell and broke his hip last night.”

Cassie looked up from slicing. “Will he be okay?”

“Yes, but Chuck went to his dad’s to help out for a few days. I told him to take a week if he needed it.”

“No problem.” Cassie handed Rose a piece of donut. “Leo and I can cover everything here.”

Five minutes later, Cassie licked the last of the gooey sweet pink and white frosting off her fingers and poured herself a cup of coffee before the breakfast mob descended. As she raised the mug to her mouth an unfamiliar ringing had her looking up to see Rose installing a roll of receipt paper in what looked to be a brand-new, top-of-the-line cash register.

“You certainly work fast,” Cassie said as she walked to the front counter.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Rose finished installing the roll of paper and snapped the lid shut. The new register let out a series of computerized beeps and spat out a few inches of test paper Rose ripped off and crumpled into a ball. “Yesterday I saw my maker and that gave me the will.”

Cassie looked around the counter. “What did you do with the old register?”

“Made good use of it.” She pointed to a shelf on the wall where the antique register sat quietly. Its open cash drawer was now a practical shelf for three small terra-cotta pots brimming with silk African violets. “It served us well, God rest its soul,” Rose jested in a sad voice.

“How did you get it open?”

“You can’t see it, but Jimmy took a sledge hammer to the back of the thing, and voilà.” Rose flicked her fingers. “It opened.” She cast a sorrowful look at her beloved but uncooperative antique. “It will forever be a part of Hopewell Springs history.”

“Boss,” Cassie said, leaning across the counter and resting her hand on Rose’s shoulder in a solemn gesture, “you have my sincere condolences.”

“Thank you.” Rose balled her hand and wiped an invisible tear from the corner of her eye.

“Not at all.” Cassie took a sip from her mug and turned to head back to the kitchen.

“Wait.” Rose pulled a newspaper from one of two thick stacks and held it up. “If you haven’t seen this yet, you’re very photogenic.”

Cassie nearly choked on her coffee
.

Front page, side-by-side photos taken by the photographer yesterday stared up at her. The first photo immortalized Rose and Jimmy’s steamy embrace. It was the other picture that had her mind screaming in terror.

She plunked her mug onto the counter and grabbed the paper from Rose’s hand, praying that on closer inspection the clarity of the photo would diminish.

It didn’t.

Staring back at her was a relatively clear image of herself before she’d raised her hands to block her face.

Cassie gripped the paper tighter. “What kind of circulation does this paper have?”

“Very limited, nothing like the
Albany Herald
.” Rose patted the other stack of newspapers on the counter. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the
Gazette
outside our little burg. No one cares much what happens around here except us.”

A sliver of hope.

But the coffee in Cassie’s stomach rolled and churned nonetheless.

“Something wrong?” Rose had clearly picked up on Cassie’s agitation. “You’re not wanted by the police, are you? ’Cause I can’t afford to have my head chef arrested.”

“No, don’t be silly.” Cassie plastered on a phony smile.

“Good. With Chuck gone, I’m already down one chef.” Rose’s tone became joking. “If Mike had to arrest you, I’d have to close the place down. We can’t operate the kitchen with just Leo.”

Cassie glanced again at the front page and a heavy weight settled onto her shoulders. With the
Gazette
’s extremely limited circulation, she wasn’t certain a safety risk really existed. And she couldn’t abandon Rose with no chef. Leo was a prep-chef and didn’t have anywhere near the experience Chuck did.

She fisted her hands, crumpling the edges of the newspaper. The urge to confide in someone was growing exponentially with each passing day. These were her friends and deceiving them sat in her gut about as pleasantly as an acid milkshake.

“Are you bothered by having your picture in the paper?” Rose asked.

Cassie recovered her composure and set the newspaper onto the counter. “Nah,” she lied. “And tell Jimmy the photographer captured his good side.”

An ear-to-ear smile lit Rose’s face. “That’s exactly what Jimmy said last night after we—” Her hand flew to her mouth and her face flushed to a bright shade of radish-red.

“Rose, you didn’t! I hope you remembered to practice safe sex.”

“Oh, honey,” Rose said, tilting her chin down and glancing in either direction, “nothing about sex with that man is safe.”

Cassie grinned. “I’m so happy for you. And it’s about time.”

Rose sighed. “I suppose it is.”

The front door bell jingled and the first customer of the day walked in.

“I’d better get back to work.” Cassie grabbed her mug. “Wouldn’t want to stifle revenue.” She winked at Rose and cast one more look at the newspaper.

Can things possibly get any worse?

Don’t ask. You’ve been a cop long enough to know things can
always
get worse.

Cassie left Rose clicking the remote at the TV attached to the wall. She caught sight of Joshua Mosely, New Jersey’s senatorial candidate, being interviewed by a talking head from one of the major stations in New York City. They were discussing his landslide victory in the recent primary. Maybe she could finally vote for someone who didn’t squander taxpayer money like the incumbent Aaron Miller. Miller was a popular, camera-savvy politician, but he drained the state coffer as if it was his own personal checking account.

In the back of the kitchen, Cassie dumped the remains of her coffee into the sink and turned on the tap. She watched the creamy brown liquid spiral into the drain. Her stomach was clenching enough without adding caffeine to the mix. She rested her hands on the cold metal rim of the sink, pausing to absorb the Nest’s ritualistic sounds and smells that she’d come to love.

Coffee sputtered as it dripped from a commercial machine into half a dozen carafes. The Columbian coffee’s rich aroma mingled with the scents of melted butter, golden brown onions, and crispy hash brown potatoes sautéing and sizzling on the grill.

The Nest still had her tingling with as much excitement now as it had the first day she’d walked in.

Was there a chance when this was all over she really could start a new life here in Hopewell Springs?

God, what a change in lifestyle that would be. Her family would be shocked at her decision to leave the force. No one in the Yates family had ever quit the NYPD. Gray would have a cow and tell her she was nuts. Lt. Frye would piss bullets. Dom, the big lug, might even cry.

Cassie tied a clean apron around her waist and began whisking custard for her orange crème brûlée French toast. For the moment, she would stay in Hopewell Springs but be extra vigilant. As soon as Chuck returned, she could reassess the wisdom of going home and into a safe house.

“Have you seen that guy who’s running for senator in New Jersey?” Sue had come into the kitchen and started filling the empty stainless-steel creamers with half-and-half. “He’s not bad looking at all.”

“I suppose,” Cassie said as she dipped bread slices into the custard. From the dining room, Mosely’s clear, polished voice filtered into the kitchen. “I haven’t had time to watch a single debate.”

“If you ask me”—Sue picked up the tray of creamers—“you have too much Mike Flannery on the brain to think about anything else.” She winked before heading out to the dining area.

Cassie smiled, her stomach fluttering as she recalled how Mike had kissed her last night. Buzzed and exhausted though she’d been, she could still recall every erotic, aching sensation in the wake of that one kiss.

Her heart had slammed against her ribs, her breath catching in her throat. Blatantly sensual didn’t begin to adequately describe Mike Flannery.

There was infinitely more to him than just his uniform. Getting to know Mike was like scraping layers and layers of paint off a valuable antique. The more paint she stripped away, the more of the mysterious and multidimensional man shone through.

She’d stereotyped him as a macho jerk in a uniform. True, he was as capable and tough a cop as she’d ever seen and clearly had the respect and admiration of his men. He commanded it, not demanded it. But there was also the gentle, caring side to the man. The side that had held her in his arms and comforted her when she’d awoken briefly last night from a horrifying nightmare.

In her dream, a shadowy man stalked her. Most of the man’s features were ambiguous, with two noteworthy exceptions: a goatee and a hook-shaped nose. Oddly, she’d also dreamed about the bearded man with the creepy gray eyes—the one guy who’d been lucky enough to walk out the door of La Femme minutes before the takedown.

“So tell me,” Rose said as Cassie slid a tray of toast into the oven, “how
was
last night? Really.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Mike carried me upstairs, and I fell asleep. Nothing happened.” Damn shame, too.

Rose placed her hand over her heart. “That is one of the most romantic things I ever heard. He could have taken advantage of you, but he didn’t. Not that I’m surprised. Mike may have one of the hottest bodies in all of New York State, but he’s also an officer and a gentleman. Did he ask you out yet?”

Cassie breathed a sigh that even she had to admit sounded dreamy. “Actually, I asked
him
out. Which reminds me, he’s picking me up at seven, so I want to get started early with Leo prepping the food for Mike’s PBA table. That way I can get home in time to let Raven outside, take a bath, and get all dolled up. Makeup, a dress.” God, she hadn’t worn a dress in ages.

“Oh, no!” Rose’s brown eyes grew as big as sausage patties. “Your date is for tonight?”

“Yes, why?” Cassie set down the spatula. It didn’t take a world-class detective to see Rose was about to drop an A-bomb on her evening plans.

“Oh, honey.” Contrition was written all over Rose’s face. “Leo has his first date with Ginny tonight. I said okay, but that was before Chuck had to leave town.”

Cassie’s heart sank.

So much for the hottest date of my life.

No way could she prep that much food by herself in time for her date, and there was no way she could turn Rose down. The food was for Mike’s charity. Surely he’d understand her canceling on him.

Rose shook her head. “I’ll tell Leo he has to postpone his plans. There’s no other way. Ginny’s a good kid. She’ll get over it.”

“They’re both good kids.” Cassie glanced to the back door where Leo was signing the produce man’s invoice. “I wouldn’t dream of asking him to cancel. Don’t worry about it.”

Rose gave her a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I’d help you, honestly I would, but I can’t cook to save my ever-lovin’ life. When I had my place in the city, do you know what I made for dinner every night?”

“What?”

“Reservations.” Rose let out a bitter laugh, but her forehead was still creased in concern.

“It’s okay,” Cassie said. “Just make me a list of what you want prepared.”

“Oh, thank you, sweetie.” Rose threw her arms around her and gave her a tight hug. She pulled away, adding, “I’ll pay you extra for this. It’s about the only thing I can do to make up for killing your plans. That, and apologize to Mike for you.”

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