Dirty Trick (9 page)

The moment passed and Serena turned to her with a tight smile. “Well, I’ll let you two walk the beasts. Write down all the details from last night and call me later. I expect a full accounting of the whole evening, blow—” she waggled her eyebrows “—by blow.”

She sidled up to Trick and fingered the collar of his coat. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”

A moment later, she was gone, leaving Grace alone with Trick and wondering if her lips were still swollen from last night. She wasn’t sure how to look less sexed, so she waved a hand toward the countertop.

“Why don’t you fill up the thermoses with coffee, and I’ll get my sweatshirt?” she mumbled and scurried down the hallway.

Once she was in her bedroom, she closed the door behind her and leaned on it heavily. What the hell was going on with her? Trick was her friend. Sure, he was dead sexy, and funny, and sweet. But he was also totally off limits. One of the best things about her interlude with the superhero had been that it gave her something to think about and look forward to that wasn’t off limits. So why was it that all of a sudden the only thing she couldn’t stop thinking about was Trick?

What she hadn’t counted on was this re-awakening of her sexuality making it hard to be around him. The things she’d imagined doing with—and to—a nameless, faceless guy during her two year dry spell had been a pale imitation of what she now knew the two of them could actually be doing if she made a move on him.

He wouldn’t say no.

That much, she was fairly sure of. He’d told her many times how pretty she was, and what a shit Vic had been for making her feel bad about herself, but it wasn’t only that. Every so often, when he thought she didn’t know it, she found him fixated on her ass or, more disconcerting, her mouth. His eyes would get all dark for a second, like he was imagining eating her alive. Then, a second later, it was gone, like a figment of her imagination. He’d never been shy about admitting that he loved sex and that he’d had more than his fair share of women. So would he sleep with her? Almost certainly. That’s what players did. And just as certainly, she would fall madly, irrevocably in love with him. It was only her terror of what she’d be left with when he invariably broke her heart that stopped her from doing it.

Would his mouth feel as good as Catman’s? Would he know how to touch her?

The door had been opened. Screw that, it had been mowed down by a tank fitted with a high powered assault weapon, and now it was like Pandora’s Box up in this place. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and all the things she’d been missing and how badly she wanted to do them with Trick.

A warm flush came over her, and she wondered if she needed the sweatshirt at all. She choked back a laugh. How Vic would taunt her now. She’d actually turned into the sex freak he’d always accused her of being. Now
that
was ironic.

“You almost ready?” Trick called from the living room. She fanned her face with her hand and shook her head at the empty room.

You have no idea.

…

Hung was good.

In fact, of the things a guy hoped for the morning after, hearing that the object of his attentions had told her friends he was hung ranked pretty high on the list. Definitely top three.

Not to mention that Grace was pretty damned chipper this morning. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she seemed to have an extra swing in her step and a confidence about her that hadn’t been there twenty-four hours ago. All in all, it had been a pretty sweet way to start the day for him, but he was having a rough time of it now.

Trick walked a few steps behind Grace and vowed to keep his eyes on the trail. Easier said than done. If that ass had confounded him before last night, it was the bane of his existence today. Round, juicy and—he now knew—with skin soft as satin. He wanted nothing more in the world than to take a bite.

“How far do you want to go?”

Deeper,
he nearly groaned in response, exactly the way she had begged him in the sauna. His cocked bucked against his gym pants, and he struggled to focus.

“Let’s loop around the pond and head back,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. “I have to run to the station this afternoon for a quick training on our new night vision goggles.”

“Sounds good,” she said, tossing a quick smile over her shoulder. She seemed happy, but distracted. Thinking about her “date” last night? He found himself fighting back another twinge of totally irrational jealousy. What an asshole. Here he was, lying to his best friend, and he was the one with hurt feelings? Love was a fucking kick in the balls sometimes.

She pushed off, slipping her water bottle back into the pocket of her heavy sweatshirt. She breathed into her hands and rubbed them together.

“Want my gloves?” he asked. “Or my coat?” He started to unbutton it, but she stopped him.

“Nope, you know my stance on wool.”

“Right, I forgot. Only sheep should wear it.”

She liked to say that a sweater made of fiberglass insulation would be more comfortable. Maybe it was the softness of her skin that made it tough on her. His dick hardened painfully when he recalled again exactly how soft that skin had been. Against his fingertips…against his lips. So hot and—

“Alrighty,” she chirped, cheerfully unaware of his perverse thoughts. She wrapped Gandalf’s leash tighter around her wrist then tipped her head forward up the path. “Onward.”

He whistled to get Skeeter’s attention, and they started the hike toward the lake. She chattered happily beside him, telling him about all the new clients she and Serena had managed to wrangle over the past month and sharing a story about one guy who was impossible to fix up because his mother showed up on every single date. He did his best to listen in spite of his churning thoughts.

“Is his mom single, too?” he asked, crouching to move a fallen limb to the side and clear their path.

“She actually is. Why? You interested?”

“Nope. But that’s the key right there. Find the mom a man, and she’ll be happy enough to leave junior alone. She’s probably lonely.”

Grace moved ahead and looked back at him. “Wow. That’s pretty frigging good.”

She sounded impressed, and that made him wish he had some more good ideas to throw at her.

“If you ever get sick of saving lives and want to do something important, let me know,” she teased. “I think we can find a spot for you at Love Will Find a Way.”

Her grin made his shoulders tense, but not because she was so damned hot, although she was. More because she looked so trusting. Like she could tell him anything. Like she cared about him and genuinely liked being around him. Like he was her best fucking friend. And he was nothing but a phony.

Out of nowhere, the weight of his secret felt too heavy to carry for another second. Had he been fooling himself in thinking that he’d be able to carry this through? That she’d be able to forgive him for what he’d done, or that he’d been right to do it in the first place?

“Grace, wait a minute.” He slowed as they approached the steep incline, wanting to talk to her before they got too out of breath since the next section was steep and more of a climb than a hike.

She had already set one hiking boot onto a boulder and had her bare hand wrapped around a thick tree root to hoist herself up to where Gandalf stood proudly waiting for his mama to join him. She threw a questioning glance over the shoulder. “What’s up?”

“I need to tell you something—”

He never got the rest out because there was an ominous crack. The root that had looked so sturdy broke off in her hand, and she went careening backwards.

She released Gandalf’s leash and pin-wheeled but couldn’t catch her balance, and before he could get close enough to grab her, she was flat on her back, her head landing mere centimeters from a jagged rock. His stomach pitched as Gandalf let out a mournful yowl and Skeeter barked.

Trick dropped to his knees into the leaves beside her. “Grace?” God, what if there was another rock underneath her that she hadn’t been lucky enough to miss? He searched the ground for blood, but saw none. “Answer me, damn it.”

Her dazed eyes stared up at him, and she shook her head. She couldn’t answer him. His heart thudded harder as all the possible reasons for that ran through his panic-stricken mind. Paralysis? No. She’d shaken her head. Severed vocal chords? That was ludicrous. So what then?

She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. “Holy crud, that knocked the wind outta me!” she said and then drew in another lungful of air.

“Did you break anything? What hurts?” He began to systematically run his hands over her limbs, starting with her ankle, up her calf to her thigh and back down the other side. “Does your stomach hurt? How about your back?”

Her pale face went pink and she crossed her arms over her waist. “Um, yes. No, I mean. I’m fine. You don’t need to check the rest.” Her voice had gotten a little squeaky, and he stilled. “Calm down, seriously. I’m fine.”

She sat up and blew the curls off her forehead with a huff. A crown of maple leaves circled her head, and he plucked each one out.

“I think I would’ve had it, but then I turned around and I didn’t feel the root start to give. Good thing I didn’t do that a little further up, because I would’ve landed in the creek.” The nervous babble, likely from the dump of adrenaline, ceased and her eyes widened. “Is Gandalf all right?” She looked around and the dog, who’d gotten distracted sniffing Skeeter’s butt, lumbered over to sit next to her. She hugged his big body to hers and sighed. “We’re okay, right big guy?”

Trick felt some of the tension drain out of him. It hadn’t been that bad of a fall but, on the force he’d seen some pretty innocuous accidents result in truly tragic outcomes, so it had scared the shit out of him. And maybe it was worse because it had been his fault that she wasn’t paying attention in the first place.

“A little stiff there,” she admitted, pushing herself to her feet. He took her arm to steady her, and she straightened. “Not too bad, though.” She mumbled her thanks and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “So what were you going to tell me before, anyway?”

He stalled, brain whirring on high. Maybe her fall had been a sign. Another supernatural assist from The Great Pumpkin. Even if it wasn’t, he was taking it as one because the need to confess had all but disappeared. Another few days. That’s all he needed, and by then he’d have a chance to convince her that Catman wasn’t the only one who could blow her mind.

“Nothing. I was going to see if you wanted to go out for happy hour tomorrow night instead of Thursday. I’m on call the rest of the week.”

She shrugged and picked up Gandalf’s leash. “Sounds good to me.”

He took the leash from her unresisting hand. “He tends to walk you, and I don’t want him rushing you until you get your legs back under you. We should probably head back. The dogs got some exercise in, and you’re covered in mud down your back.”

She wrinkled her nose and tried to crane her neck to see over her shoulder. “Ugh, okay. I’m going to go along with you and pretend that’s all mud.”

She was limping a bit, and he resisted the urge to hold her hand or take her arm as they made their way back down in the direction they’d come. He would have done it without blinking even a day ago, but now it felt weird. Like, just by touching her, he might give himself away. Luckily, by the time they got back to her house and wound their way around to the front door, she was walking normally and most of his worry that she’d really injured herself disappeared.

She spun around to face him on her doorstep and rolled her eyes. “Sorry my clumsiness cut our hike short. I’d say come in and hang out until lunch, but—” she gestured to her backside with a grim smile “—I have to scrape some manure off me, take the world’s hottest shower, and then I have a date with a heating pad.”

He nodded, “No problem. I’ve got to swing by work anyway, but give me a call tomorrow.”

She stepped through the door, and the mastiff followed behind her.

As he watched her retreating back, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d missed his one chance to come clean before things got even more out of hand. But already, after only a day, she seemed so much more confident. So much happier now that she’d found someone who actually
moved
her for the first time since before Victor. He couldn’t take that from her. No, he’d come this far, and he wasn’t going to stop until Grace realized exactly how amazing she truly was.

And if that took another date with Catman before he could tell her the truth, so be it.

…

Grace stretched out on the recliner, burrowing deeper into the heating pad. Luckily, other than a little stiffness in her lower back, she felt fine. No residual issues from her little trip that morning. It was a good thing because she had so much on her mind already, worrying about babying some injury was the last thing she needed.

A far more concerning problem was Trick.

And Catman.

And the damned tingles.

She’d been so sure, after her night of wild sex with a man who’d sent her spidey senses reeling, that when she saw Trick again, the feelings she’d had since the first day they’d met would have disappeared. She’d been so convinced that they were nothing more than a fluke. Granted, he was a great looking guy, and before Victor, he was exactly the type of man she would’ve gone crazy over. But her priorities had changed and having people in her life that she could trust was way more important than sexual chemistry. Or so she’d thought. Now though, she wasn’t so certain.

Could it be that Serena was right? That picking guys like boring Seth and shutting herself off to someone for the sole reason that she might feel
too
much for them was a bad idea?

She peered out the window in the direction of Trick’s house and wondered idly if he was back from work yet. He’d recently been made SWAT commander, the youngest ever in Salem, after dragging an injured team member out of a building under fire. Between that and the men’s deep respect for him and his top-notch scores in marksmanship and other combat training, he’d been a shoe-in for the promotion.