Authors: Tessa Bailey
Tags: #police, #Romantic Suspense, #brazen, #line of duty, #erotic, #new york, #Contemporary Romance
railing. It didn’t escape her he had a
view of anyone coming up behind her.
“When is the last time you were at the
beach?”
She ate her last bite of sandwich as
she dug through her memory. “When I
was a senior in high school. Which is
just sad, when you get right down to it.”
“Hmm. Who were you with?”
“A pack of nuns.”
He choked on a sip of coffee. “You
make them sound like wolves.”
“Oh, you’ve met them?”
His crack of laughter drew the
attention of some passing joggers. “That
bad, huh?”
She collected their garbage and tossed
it in the nearby garbage can. “Let’s just
say, wearing a habit at the beach in
ninety-degree
weather
doesn’t
put
someone in a good mood to begin with.
Throw in thirty teenage girls who are
seeing boys with their shirts off for the
first time…it’s not pretty.”
Bowen’s eyes narrowed on her. “You
were gawking again, weren’t you?”
“Guilty.”
His voice dropped. “We’ll sort that
out later, won’t we?”
The air grew thick between them,
heating her even in the cool morning
breeze. It would be so easy to stand and
wrap her arms around him, but she
wanted to take this opportunity to know
more. To understand him better as a
person before their labels, their real
lives, intruded and she’d never get the
chance again. Her throat grew suddenly
tight. “What about you? Last time at the
beach.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but
frowned and shut it again. “I don’t
remember. I might have been here last
week…” She could tell from his tone he
meant it. If he wanted to, he could have
easily made something up. Clearly, he
couldn’t call to mind the last time he’d
been, and it bothered him tremendously.
“Just tell me about any time you were
at the beach, Bowen,” she offered
quietly. “It doesn’t have to be the last
time.”
Sera watched shadows pass behind
his
eyes
as
he
thought.
The
lightheartedness of a moment ago had
passed, leaving his troubles etched in the
hard lines of his body. Outlined by the
bright morning light from his position on
the top rail, he looked like he belonged
painted on the ceiling of a cathedral. An
angel who had defected to the dark side.
“All right, I got one.” His far-off
voice startled her out of her daydream.
“My father drove me down here one
afternoon when I was thirteen. Even let
me sit in the front seat.” He pointed to a
spot beyond her shoulder. “There was a
group of high school kids hanging out,
smoking, whatever. He told me to get out
of the car and pick a fight with the
biggest one. Wouldn’t let me get back in
the car until I did it. Until I won.”
Sera was certain if she moved, her
body would splinter in half. Anger
coursed through her veins at the idea of a
father treating his child so callously. She
felt pity for the little boy, too, but she
held on to the anger because if he saw
her pity, he’d hate it. “Did you win?”
“No. I rode the subway home with two
busted eyes that day. So he brought me
back the following week. And the week
after that. Until he could point out
anyone on the beach and I could take
them.” He gave a quick shake of his
head. “But I haven’t lost a fair fight
since then, so lesson learned, right?”
“Fair fight?
None
of that was fair.”
When he merely stared off into the
distance, she drew in a deep breath to
calm herself down. It didn’t work. Her
hands were shaking in her lap with the
desire to break a commandment on his
behalf. “Why did you tell me that?”
“To see if you’ll leave.” His hands
clenched and unclenched on the rail.
“Once you know I’m just a trained attack
dog.”
“Would you let me leave?”
“No.” Stormy gray eyes found hers.
“
No
.”
In her old line of work, the ER had
been a place where income brackets and
political differences didn’t matter.
Making people better, that’s what
mattered. This need to care for Bowen
went so far beyond a calling. It couldn’t
be controlled or reasoned with. It was
necessity. Sharing his aches wasn’t a
burden, but a privilege. He’d just proven
beyond a shadow of a doubt how vastly
different their worlds had been growing
up. How different they were
still
. She
didn’t care anymore if her pity was
unwanted, though. She needed to touch
him.
At the exact moment she launched
herself from the bench toward Bowen,
he dropped from the railing and met her
halfway, their bodies colliding. His
arms banded across her back, crushing
her to his chest. Her chin fit just right
into the notch of his neck. They held
each other and swayed for a while,
ignoring the curious looks of people
walking past. She could only hold tight
and hope the simple act of her being
there helped in some way.
Suddenly, Bowen’s body started
shaking. It alarmed her at first until she
realized he was laughing. “What?”
“You’re not even going to believe
me.”
After everything he’d just told her?
“Try me.”
He gripped her shoulders and turned
her around slowly. “Don’t gawk,
Ladybug.”
“I don’t gaw—” She never finished
her
sentence.
Walking
down
the
boardwalk,
looking
righteous
and
militant, was a pack of nuns. “No way.”
“Way.”
She dropped back onto the bench in a
fit of laughter, Bowen watching her with
an amused expression. Sera hid her face
in her hands, hoping the nuns would pass
by quickly, but somehow knew Bowen
wouldn’t be able to let that happen. And
she was right. As the nuns drew even
with their bench, he let out a loud
whistle.
“Sisters.” He leaned back on the
railing like a lazy cat and threw them a
wink. “You’re looking extra lovely
today. Put in a good word with the big
guy for me, would ya?”
As Sera buried her face back in her
hands with a groan, she swore she heard
one of them giggle.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I
want
to stay just like this forever.
With Sera leaning against the railing in
front of Bowen, wind lifting her hair off
her shoulders, carrying her scent up to
his nose. If only he weren’t shielding her
back with his body on the off chance
someone decided to take a shot at her, it
would be perfect. An ache sprang to life
behind his eyes at the thought of her
being hit, falling to the ground, while he
stood there helpless. It was fast
becoming his worst nightmare, one
replaying itself over and over since this
morning.
Connor hadn’t followed them, he’d
made sure of it. But he still didn’t plan
on taking any chances with Sera’s life.
What conclusions had the guy drawn
from what he’d seen? If Bowen had
judged Connor correctly, he didn’t miss
a thing. His other judgment, that Connor
wouldn’t do anything to harm Sera after
she’d saved his life…he wasn’t so sure
about that anymore. Working for a man
like Hogan, hell, being
related
to him,
would harden a man over time. To go
from the military to street muscle meant
he’d done something to fall far. Despite
his good gut feeling about the guy,
Bowen had never trusted him. He didn’t
trust anybody. But now, after that look
Connor had given him as he drove past,
he’d graduated to a direct threat.
He’d been frantic to get her out of his
neighborhood. Then as they drove down
the parkway, he’d experienced the
pressing urge to keep driving. Past
Coney Island, out of Brooklyn. If he
thought she wouldn’t object, he might
have actually done it. After seeing
Connor this morning, he’d almost called
Troy back and begged him to come get
Sera out. To put her in a safe house
somewhere no one could find her; screw
the precious ledger the commissioner
wanted. Then he’d realized what that
meant. It meant they’d take her away
from him. Forever. When it came down
to it, would he keep her in jeopardy just
to keep her in Brooklyn a little longer?
God, he didn’t know. The thought of not
having her within reach caused nausea to
rise in his throat. She was heaven
propped against his chest, such a
contrast to the cold metal of the gun at
the small of his back. Two sides of the
same coin. Good and evil. Which was
he?
When Bowen heard the food stands
and amusement park rides open behind
them, he took her hand and walked her
toward a warehouse-size building in the
center of the attractions. With the beach
getting busier, he wanted to get her
indoors.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He squeezed her hand in thanks, trying
not to think about what would happen to
that trust when she found out he was
keeping such a huge secret from her. As
soon as the four walls of the massive
video arcade surrounded them, a little
bit of his tension faded. “How do you
feel about air hockey?”
A mischievous smile played around
her lips, making him want to kiss the
breath out of her. “Oh, I feel pretty good
about it.”
Twenty minutes later, they were tied
at two games apiece. He could not wipe
the stupid grin off his face. She’d turned
out to be a little competitor, his Sera.
Having ditched school as a kid in favor
of the arcade countless times, he’d
played more than his fair share of air
hockey. Fighting had kicked his reflexes
up
another
notch,
making
him
unbeatable. Sera was giving him a
legitimate run for his money, and he
wasn’t taking it easy on her.
“Who taught you how to play? Don’t
tell me the nuns, I won’t believe you.”
Her smile was so gorgeous it made his
stomach ache. “My brother and I used to
play. When my…family came to visit us
at school. They’d take us to lunch and
the arcade. Had to drag us away from the
table.”
“Visit you?” He dropped two quarters
into the slot. “How far away was
college?”
She didn’t answer right away.
“Massachusetts. From third grade up,
actually. At least for me. My brother
was older.”
“What?” When his fingers started to
hurt, he realized he was squeezing the
mallet in his hand. “Why would they
send you that far away?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She put
on a brave smile. “Anyway, I can just
tell you’re stalling to delay your
inevitable loss.”
All this time, he’d pictured her
childhood filled with barbecues and pet
kittens. Knowing it wasn’t, knowing
she’d been sent away and left on her
own, reminded him he didn’t know
enough about her. And if he asked, all he
would get was her cover story, which
he’d already memorized. She wouldn’t
tell him anything about her parents, her
upbringing. Suddenly it felt unacceptable
that he didn’t know every single detail
about her.
She tapped her mallet against her
thigh, those big brown eyes practically
begging him for a distraction from the
subject. “Bowen?”
“You’re right.” He cleared the rust out
of his throat. “I’m shaking in my boots,
Ladybug.”
“Are you patronizing me now? That’s
not a good strategy with me.”
“I’ll have to remember that.” He sent
the puck flying across the table. “I’m all