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35
LIAM
SINCE MY ASSIGNMENT with Gray and Hanson has ended, thankfully on a positive note, it isn’t going to be as easy to get into Mo’s space as it was for those two days I was needed. It was the first time I wanted a case to take a while to crack, which I know makes me a bad person, but I couldn’t help that little sliver of hope.
She isn’t picking up her phone. I talked Gray into giving me her number after he saw how she responded to me, but she isn’t giving me anything.
Gray casually mentioned that they always frequent one of two bars after work on the weekdays. The first one, O’Callahan’s, was empty of off-duty cops, so I went to the next spot, Mile High Brothers.
It is packed to the brim on a Thursday night, but that’s how most of these bars are in the downtown area. Ever since meeting Margaret, I haven’t been back to many bars. She was my very last date on that idiotic app, and I haven’t had a chance to do anything about my urges. One, because I was too busy sorting out my shit with the FBI and Russians to worry about it, and two, because the only one I want to sink into is Margaret.
That girl rules every part of my life without even knowing it.
It’s been two fucking years, and I would go even longer if it meant she was in my bed at the end of the night.
I spot her right away. She sits facing the door, her head thrown back in laughter, the smooth column of her neck exposed to me, her hair long again and falling around her shoulders and down her back. She is still fucking gorgeous.
She lifts a Guinness to her lips, and I watched them touch the edge with envy. It didn’t escape my notice that she now prefers my drink of choice. The idea of that makes warmth spread into my chest, and I don’t try to stop the grin that spreads across my lips.
“Stokes!” I take my eyes off of Margaret for a second to see who’s sitting next to her: Hernandez, a guy who helped out Gray and Hanson on their case and who I’ve met a couple of times. He waves me over to their table and I head that way, knowing Margaret is glaring at me before I even take a step.
Unfortunately for her, I’m not giving her up like she wishes I would, and she’s going to have to get the fuck over it.
I take a chair from another table, not asking if someone was using it, and spin it around to take a seat right smack dab next to Margaret—so close to her, in fact, that I can smell her perfume. A mix of vanilla and lavender, even her scent makes me want to rip her out of her chair and get the hell out of here.
“Hey, Mo.” I give her a wink and a smirk. Her smile is forced, and I see through the wall she’s put up, see that she’s trying very hard not to give in to me.
“You guys know each other?” he asks, pointing between us.
“Oh yeah,” I say when I see Margaret open her mouth, no doubt to deny any kind of connection. “We go way back.”
Hernandez raises a brow at Margaret and laughs. “You told me you were single.” I look at him then, wondering if there’s a lingering crush there, but I see mirth in his eyes and decide he’s just goading a friend.
“I am,” she says quickly, more loudly than necessary. She realizes and lowers her voice. “Very, very single.”
“Huh,” Hernandez answers. Then he gestures to the silent man to his right and says, “Stokes, this is Rev.” Rev gives me a slight nod and goes back to looking at his phone. “Don’t mind him,” Hernandez tells me. “He’s not used to being out in public for this long. We got put on a twelve-hour shift today and he’s still sore about it.”
Rev starts arguing with him, and I take the time to look over at Margaret, leaning close so I can whisper in her ear. “You look amazing tonight.” She really does. She’s in her civilian clothes again. Her uniform is no doubt hot as shit, but there’s something about her new style that hits me in the gut. All dark and leather—it’s hot as hell.
She tries not to blush, but she can’t help the red that tinges her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mumbles.
“I missed seeing you this week,” I say honestly.
Looking up at me under her eyelashes, she replies, “I didn’t notice.” Her voice is soft, so soft I have to lean in to catch what she says, but I’m a little surprised by her admission.
“You didn’t, huh?” I ask, trying for a teasing tone.
“Nope,” she shoots back, popping the P. She certainly didn’t lose her feistiness.
“Well, I may just have to change that.” I risk throwing an arm over the back of her chair.
Margaret takes another sip of beer before she decides what she wants to say. “How are Mike and Jen?”
I’m genuinely happy she cares enough to ask about them. I know what we went through when she met them was out of the ordinary, but I also know she and Jen hit it off. Her getting along with some of my best friends was a good feeling. “They’re good, actually. Expecting another little one any day now.”
“Really?” Her eyes shine with happiness.
“Yeah, a little girl. They’re really excited about it,” I say. “I spent a couple weeks with them a few months ago, making sure they were good and everything.”
