Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1 (18 page)

Except that near kiss in the gas station—and if her tongue wasn’t in his mouth, it wasn’t an actual kiss to his way of thinking—felt different somehow. He didn’t want to go deeper than that, and Max’s ass really wasn’t helping him to forget the whole damn thing.

Ahead of them, Miss Maddy opened the door at the end of the hall. “This is Passion’s Penthouse.”

Lucas stopped in the doorway, resisting the urge to shield his eyes at the overpowering shades of pink. Pink walls, pink carpet, pink ruffles on the pillows, even the furniture, which he guessed was a nice wood of some kind, had been painted pink.

He swore his testosterone levels dropped just taking one step over the threshold.

Max glanced at him then averted her face, but not before he saw her grin.

“This is actually my favorite room in the house,” Miss Maddy added. “A lot of memories.” She glanced longingly at the bed, and Lucas prayed she wasn’t about to share any of
those
memories.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to unwind. Dinner is at six o’clock, but I’ll bring you up a snack shortly. And there are nice fluffy robes in the closet so you can put your wet clothes in the basket right outside the door. I’ll see that they’re cleaned and brought back later this afternoon.”

“We don’t want to put you through too much trouble—”

“I insist,” Miss Maddy cut in, her words laced with just enough sugary bite to make him rethink disagreeing.

“You two enjoy.” Miss Maddy smiled and left, closing the door behind her.

Relieved to be alone, Lucas removed his soaked shoes and socks. He glanced at the bed, but opted for the pink rocking chair since he was still wet. The phone on top of the roll-top desk in the corner caught his eye.

Max checked out the bathroom. “There’s a claw-foot tub in here.”

“Let me guess. It’s also pink.”

“But pink is your color,” she teased, reminding him of the pink sweater that hadn’t survived their little adventure.

Needing to call Joe back and preferring to talk without Max overhearing anything that might make her skittish, he padded into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucet.

Max leaned in the doorway behind him, arms crossed. “Calgon calling?”

He snorted. “It’s for you.” He took a step toward her, letting his gaze slide the full length of her body. “Although that tub is plenty big enough for two.”

She cocked her head, looking like she was thinking it over just long enough to make his whole body clench. “I think I’ll pass.”

He stopped in the doorway, fully aware he was crowding her. “As long as you’re sure.”

Her attention slipped to his mouth. “I am.”

“Okay then,” he murmured against her ear as he passed. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

She closed the door without a backward glance.

Damn.

With Max secure in the bathroom, he grabbed the phone and moved as far across the room as it would reach before dialing headquarters. Not surprisingly, Joe answered, but before Lucas got more than a few words out, the bathroom door opened wide enough for Max to toss her clothes out.

“Would you put those in the basket for me?”

He glanced down, noticed the silky purple panties peeking out from under her shirt. He swallowed just to make sure his tongue hasn’t gotten stuck anywhere after the sudden image of Max sitting on the edge of the tub, sliding her panties down her legs ran through his head.

“Lucas?”

“Sure, no problem,” he finally answered, and Max shut the door once more.

“Lucas?” This time it was Joe saying his name.

“Hang on a sec.” He lowered his voice, picking up the clothes without giving the underwear another thought—mostly—and tossed them in the basket outside the door.

“What took you so long to check in?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere with no vehicle and trying not to draw any more attention to ourselves that necessary.”

“Just keep it that way. Eli ran into a little problem, but should be there by tonight.”

He glanced at the door, wondering how he was going to keep Max from rethinking her decision to help him in the meantime, and he’d seen that brief fight-or-flight glimmer in her eyes this morning, right around the time she hadn’t wanted to talk about the flat-out incredible sex they’d shared.

She hadn’t entirely abandoned the idea of ditching him just yet. He just wished he knew whether their sleeping together was working for or against the odds of that happening.

And thinking about sex when Max was on the other side of the door, probably slipping into the tub, her skin wet and warm from the water…

“What’s going on with you, Luc?”

The question succeeded in making Lucas turn away from the door. He pressed the heel of his hand to his right eye where he could feel a headache building.

“I’m good. It’s just been a crazy couple of days.”

“And the target is cooperating?”

Hearing her called a target bothered him for some reason. “
Max
is fine.” He wasn’t sure he could say the same about himself. He glanced again at the door then, hearing Joe sigh, became annoyed with his own lack of focus. “I’ve got it covered.”

“I know you’ve had your doubts about the extent of Walker’s involvement—”

“She didn’t kill Cara, Joe.” He was confident of that much. “And she was there that night. She might be able to identify someone who can lead us to the weapon. She mentioned a Russian being there at the time of the deal but thinks he was killed. If we can figure out who he was working for, we might have something to work with.”

“I’m sure any cooperation on her part will work in her favor with the DA.”

Lucas struggled to keep the anger out of his voice. “We can’t turn her over to the NYPD, Joe. Blackwater will get to her.”

“Our priority is the weapon, Lucas. Not protecting a dirty cop.”

“She has nothing to do with his dealings.”

Joe sighed again. “Then how come the guy she was engaged to marry, a fellow cop, thinks she’s guilty? He’s gone on record as stating that’s the reason he broke it off.”

He shook his head, unable to remember having read that in the brief notes he had on Detective Wade Cummings. “When was this?”

Joe ignored the question. “I know you took Cara’s death hard, Lucas, but if you can’t follow orders then I need to know that right now. Eli is on his way and you two will escort Walker here to see if she has any useful information, and then she’ll be turned over to the proper authorities. Is any of that going to be a problem?”

He clenched his jaw. “No.”

“Good. What’s your location?”

Lucas returned to the desk where he found a piece of custom stationary—also pink, go figure—and rattled off the address so Eli would be able to find the place.

When he hung up, he sank onto the edge of the bed, not caring that he was still wet. By following orders Max would be transferred into police custody and he couldn’t shake the feeling he needed her to nail Blackwater and find the weapon. Needed more than her just identifying a dead Russian.

Didn’t he? Or was he letting what happened between them—sex that Max had insisted wasn’t worth talking about—cloud his judgment even further?

The bathroom door opened a short while later and Max breezed out, her body wrapped in a towel. She snagged one of the robes from the closet and slipped back into the bathroom long enough to change.

“You didn’t take very long.”

“It was hard to enjoy a good soak when I knew you were out here still wet and probably not very comfortable.”

She padded past him without meeting his eyes. An unsettling vibe ticked in his chest. Had she somehow overheard him?

Max collapsed on the bed, massaging her feet and ankles. He noticed she wore the same dark polish on her toes, which had somehow escaped his attention yesterday.

Grinning, she snatched up the remote control. “I think I even saved you some hot water.”

Lucas stood there another minute, searching her face for some hint she’d been listening at the door.

She sprawled on her stomach, her knees bent and ankles linked in the air. If she had overhead anything, she didn’t seem too concerned. An act? Or had his brief conversation with Joe just reminded him that he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of doing his job? Personal feelings that made him want to keep her close, to trust her completely.

Stripping out of his shirt, he headed into the bathroom. The mirror over the sink was still clouded with steam and the smell of some fruity soap lingered on the air. He turned the shower on full, peeled off the rest of his wet clothing and climbed in.

Hot water sluiced down his back, slowly warming him.

A knock at the door had him pulling back the curtain, and he watched Max grab his wet clothes.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” she echoed, her gaze drifting down over his shoulders to his chest. “Uh, how are your ribs?”

“Fine.” If he didn’t count the lingering soreness from their little trek to Miss Maddy’s B&B.

“Good.” She lingered another minute, then slipped out, leaving him with the impression she’d wanted to say something.

Alone, he closed his eyes and stepped back under the water, but instead of turning the water as hot as he could stand, he turned the dial in the opposite direction. Once he was satisfied he wasn’t going to emerge from the bathroom with a raging hard-on, he looked for the soap, but the tray was empty.

Pulling back the shower curtain, he scanned the countertop, but didn’t see the soap.

“Max?”

No response. She probably couldn’t hear him with the television on. He stepped out of the shower and snagged the extra towel from the shelf over the toilet, wrapping it around his waist.

“Hey, Max, what did you do with the soap?”

No response.

He opened the door wider and stepped into the room. “Max?”

Fuck.

She was gone. Again.

Chapter Ten

“It’s good to hear your voice, Max.”

Leaning against the wall opposite Miss Maddy’s registration desk in the foyer, Max smiled at the sound of Glen’s voice. “You too. How is everything? Your suspension was lifted I take it?” When her partner hadn’t answered his home number, she took a chance and called in to the precinct.

Not until she heard his voice did she feel relieved that she’d talked herself into calling him. If she stood a chance of repairing the damage Blackwater had done, she would need a little help, someone with access to information she didn’t have. As long as she was careful and didn’t tell Glen any more than she absolutely had to, it would keep him off Blackwater’s radar.

“If that’s what you call sitting on my ass behind a desk, but at least I’m back to work,” he paused. “Shit, I’m sorry, Max. I can be an insensitive asshole some days. You okay? I’d ask where you are…”

“But I probably wouldn’t tell you,” she finished for him. “I don’t want you to have to lie for me, especially not now.” Her chest felt tight even though she was happy that he could focus on work. He deserved that much after losing Jillian. “How are you?”

“I’m sleeping and still remembering to eat, if that’s what you mean.” He kept his tone light, but underneath she heard the slight catch to his voice.

They’d been partnered together three years ago, right after Wade had earned his shiny new promotion and decided he didn’t want to get married after all, but most days it felt like they’d been working together longer. Glen seemed to know what she was thinking and often tried to talk her out of whatever risky idea she was entertaining.

He’d wanted her to hide out at his family’s cabin upstate, and she’d thought about it until she realized it was the last thing he needed. Having a partner wanted for murder was enough for him to deal with. He didn’t need to get caught helping her.

“You sound tired.”

She smiled at how well he knew her. “Exhausted actually, but I'm alive and that counts for something, right?”

“What happened?” Glen demanded.

“Too much to get into right now. I’m headed back to New York.” She waited to feel that initial panic that always snuck up on her whenever she started to think about going home, but this time it passed quickly, reaffirming that her decision was the right one.

“Are you sure it’s safe enough? You’re not thinking of turning yourself in, are you? You know the evidence is stacked against you. They even have your prints on the murder weapon, Max.”

Blackwater had certainly pulled out all the stops to guarantee she went down for Cara’s death, hadn’t he? “I can’t sit and wait for someone else to clear my name.”

“I just don’t want you taking unnecessary risks.”

Max glanced up at the ceiling thinking of Lucas. Nope, no unnecessary risks for her.

“I’ve tried digging into the witnesses’ backgrounds, trying to figure out what Blackwater could be holding over their heads, but haven’t turned up much so far. I’m not giving up, though.”

“What about Burton? Anything new there?” She’d met Captain Ralph Burton nearly eight years ago through her oldest brother, and spent the last six working under him.

Burton had always been fair and alternated between bouts of offering wisdom and encouragement and being a general pain in her ass. All of which made it harder to face the possibility he could be in Blackwater’s pocket and had played a role in their suspension.

Glen sighed. “No. He’s been quiet for a while. No late meetings or out of the ordinary calls or disappearances. I—” He broke off and she heard him talking to someone in the background.

Her stomach prickled and a moment later she asked, “Was that Wade?”

“In all his dickhead glory. Guess I got lucky today since he usually never has anything to say to me.” Glen sighed. “He’s putting off a weird vibe so maybe we should keep this short. When will you be back?”

“In a few days but I don’t want you getting too heavily involved.” If anything else happened to him because of her… Maybe it had been a mistake to call him after all.

“Don’t shut me out, Max. Not now.”

Max closed her eyes, recalling the way Glen had fought back the tears as they lowered Jillian’s body into the ground. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”