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“Jesus fuck!” Rolling over, I throw an arm over my face to shield my eyes from the glare of the morning sun. My head pounds like someone used it as a battering ram while I was asleep.
Romeo grunts and groans. “What fucking time is it?”
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “A little after eight.”
“Fuck, it’s still way too early.” He flops over and buries his face in the pillow, but a few seconds later, he turns back to face me. “Where is she? The girl from last night?”
Romeo sits up, and I shake my head, trying to clear the thick cotton that seems to have taken up residence in my brain. How much whiskey did I drink? Not enough to feel like this. Maybe the past few weeks have finally caught up to me. Yesterday was the first easy day at work in weeks, and sleeping no more than four hours a night was bound to knock me on my ass sooner or later. There’s no sign of her. The pile of clothes she left on the floor when she stripped down and climbed into bed with us is gone.
Romeo nudges me, a piece of paper held between his fingers.
I push myself into a sitting position and rub my throbbing temples. “What does it say?”
“She says thanks for a great night, and maybe she’ll see us at Molino’s again some time.” He shrugs and drops the note into the middle of the bed.
I pick it up and scrutinize it. “She didn’t leave a number.”
“We have the resources to find her if we need to.” Dropping back down, Romeo yanks the pillow from beneath his head and drops it onto his face. He’s such a grumpy fuck in the mornings. It takes him at least a half hour and two cups of coffee to even be almost tolerable.
The marching band in my skull switches tempo. Wincing, I head into the kitchen in search of Tylenol. Despite her chirpy note suggesting she simply went home before we woke up, I still check my wallet on the sideboard when I pass, as well as the safe behind the painting on the wall. Everything’s exactly as it should be.
I want her number though. Dammit, I wanted to fuck her again this morning, headache or not. Between my raging boner and the pounding in my head, I could do with some release. And the memory of her sexy body wrapped around mine, her tight cunt squeezing my cock, and the sound of my name on her pouty lips when she came for me... Sweet merciful fuck. I need her fucking number, and I need it today.
I squint in the afternoon sun as I wait outside the coffee shop for Joey and Romeo, the remnants of my earlier headache still lingering. Thankfully our schedule is light today with Joey working in her office at her family’s hotel, but anything can happen in this line of work. I scan the street, alert for any suspicious activity, but nothing stands out. My phone vibrates, and I pull it from my pocket and open the message from my buddy at the police department. I asked him to look into the employees of all the accounting firms in the city so he could get me Keres’s name and address.
Nobody by that name works for any of the registered accountants in Chicago, dude. I ran the check three times. Sorry.
Frowning down at my screen, I tap out my response, asking him if he’s sure.
Hundred percent.
I slip the phone back into my pocket and keep my eyes trained on the door of the coffee shop. Maybe she works at an unregistered firm. Or did she give us a false name? She snuck out this morning before either of us were awake, and while I told myself it was because she had to go to work, it makes more sense that she considered last night a one-time deal.
And why the fuck does that bother me so much? Romeo and I only do casual hookups, at least with anyone but each other. That’s how it’s been since we first got together four years ago. Nothing serious or complicated. There’s no explanation for why this Keres girl has gotten under my skin. Sure, the sex was out of this world. She took our cocks like it was an Olympic sport and she was gunning for gold. But I’ve had great sex before.
Romeo and Joey step out of the coffee shop, and Joey hands me a paper cup. “Thought you might need this,” she says with a grin. “You look like shit.”
Rolling my eyes, I gulp down half of the unsweetened black coffee. “Thanks. For the coffee not the insult.”
She drops her head back and laughs before she climbs into the back of the car.
Romeo flashes me a smile. “You do kinda look like shit, buddy. You feeling okay?”
“I think I’m coming down with a cold or something.” I resist the urge to tell him what I learned about Keres. She’s already taking up way too much of my headspace, and neither of us can afford to focus on anything but our jobs while we’re on the clock.
Chapter
Nine
KERES
Ihold my cell phone to my ear, and after a few rings, Phoenix’s sleepy voice fills my ear. “What is it?”
I check my watch and suppress a sigh. It’s past noon. “Have you made a start on that list yet?”
“I said I’ll get to it, Kee,” she whines.
“I need you to do it today. You said I could count on you.”
