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“Fuck,” I hissed, dropping into my car, slamming my head back on the rest.
That was just wishful thinkin’ on my part. ‘Cause no matter how much I wanted to say that all I saw in Hope was a dogged kind of determination, there was no denying I liked looking at her. And I liked all that sass too.
I figured, given a chance, there would be a way for that spark of anger to get fanned into a different sort of flame.
It couldn’t happen, of course.
But that didn’t stop my mind from wanderin’.
And other parts of me from getting ideas too.
It was fine, though.
‘Cause we were going to be keeping a professional sort of distance.
Or, at least, that was the plan…
CHAPTER SIX
Hope
I didn’t know whether to admire him, or want to wring his neck.
Because the man’s operation was fucking perfect.
And I didn’t say that easily. I was able to see even the flaws in the organizations my family ran or were in.
But after a week on his case, not only was I hitting brick wall after brick wall, but so were the other guys.
Okay. Fine. I’ll admit it.
I got a sick sort of satisfaction knowing that they weren’t coming up with anything either. It would have killed me a bit to learn that they’d gotten a lead doing nine-to-five while I had been killing myself day and night.
Did I have pictures of about a dozen of his men? Sure. Had I sussed out who a few of them were? Yeah.
But I hadn’t been able to get close enough to get anything on any of them.
And I was losing my damn mind.
I tried to tell myself that it was just the job, that I always liked to solve cases quickly and efficiently.
Yeah, that was true.
But I was pretty sure it was more about sticking it to my coworkers and, maybe to a lesser degree, impressing Andres.
God, I wasn’t even going to open the can of worms that was why I even gave a damn what that man thought.
“Why’d you let me get the ice cream first when we need to pick up the pizza still?” Vi asked as we made our way down the hall toward my apartment.
“Right, like anyone could keep you from your ice cream,” I said even as she reached for her second ice cream bar out of the box.
“That’s fair. In my defense I’m…” she started, then trailed off as we both moved into the apartment.
And froze.
Because there, lounging in the living room, toying with a crystal that one of my cousins had given me, was fucking Andres.
“In your defense, you’re what?” he asked in that sort of slow, lazy, raspy voice of his.
“Hormonal,” Vi supplied, not even breaking her stride. “You know, if you’re going to break into somewhere, you should pick the lock more gently. There were scratches.”
“You knew?” I asked, looking over at Vi.
“Suspected,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve picked a lot of locks in my day.”
“You could have said something, in case it was an actual intruder,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.
“It’s four in the afternoon,” Vi said.
“Right. Because no one does a home invasion in the daytime.”
“Oh, come on. Who would have stood a chance against the two of us?” she shot back.
“Well, seeing as you have hands occupied by ice cream bars…”
“You want one, A?” Violet asked, waving the box at him.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said to her, then let his gaze cut to mine. “You got a minute to talk?” he asked.
“I actually have to go get the pizza,” I said.
“I got it,” Vi volunteered, and I had the irrational urge to beg her not to go, not to leave us alone.
Why?
That made no sense whatsoever.
It wasn’t like A was a threat to me.
“Hey, grab me some garlic knots,” A demanded.
“No. He’s not staying,” I objected.
“Sure. No problem,” Vi said. “But, there will be a garlic knot tax.”
With that, she was gone, and I was alone with Andres Alcazar in my apartment.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“You weren’t at work.”
“Because they found a leak in the bathroom that’s getting fixed,” I said. “We called it a half day.”
“Yeah, but I needed to talk to you. So here I am,” he said, waving a hand out to my apartment.
“You could have knocked.”
“You weren’t home.”
“You could have waited.”
“I did.”
“Outside,” I clarified, moving away from him to the kitchen, grabbing a drink, feeling like I needed something else to distract myself.
“But it’s more comfortable in here. I mean… kinda bare. What? You don’t own shit?” he asked.
“There’s shit here,” I said, a little more offended than I should be. I mean, my friends teased me about my apartment relentlessly. Since I’d been in it for something like six years, but still hadn’t really made it feel ‘lived in’ yet.
I wouldn’t even know how to start.
