Page 19 of Sinful Obsession

“I’m not tossing Adrianna Alves to the wolves till I have a confession or irrefutable proof she slaughtered her husband. I guess our honeymoon will wait till then.”

“How embarrassing for you.” Her dimples pop as her lips curl up. “You made your position known too soon, Detective. You saw what was so clearly put in front of you that you made a wager you don’t want to lose. And now you look silly.”

“I’ll get my honeymoon, however this pans out. Then I can wake to my wife sucking my cock on an island, too.”

She licks her bottom lip, her eyes glittering with menace. Challenge. “You think so?”

“And on the plane,” I promise. “In the car. On the boat.” I angle closer, trembling when she places her hands on my ribs for balance. I’m not sure she even realizes she reaches out for me. But I notice. I notice every single time. “I’ll take you every spare fucking minute we’ll have. And there’ll be a lot of them, because we’ll have a week with no work, no cat, and no one we know.”

“It’s too bad we have to work in our regular lives,” she pouts. “I wouldn’t mind being a kept woman. Rich for no reason at all. Leisurely. Shiny credit cards with no limits.”

“You could be.” I press my lips to hers and taste her all the way to the bottom of my lungs. Because our day is about to begin, and we won’t have this again until tonight, at least. “A kept woman,” I clarify. “You just gotta say the word.”

“Ha,” she rolls her eyes, with no fucking clue I speak the truth. She has no idea that she’s a very wealthy woman now. And I don’t spell it out, since our wealth is, well… not exactly blood-free. “Funny. Let’s go.”

She turns out of my hold and crosses to the door. Swinging it open, she doesn’t even flinch when Cato stands on the other side, a teenager according to his birth certificate, but a grown-ass man when you take into account his life experience, height, and salacious grin. “Good morning, Doctor Mayet.” He sets his hands on the door frame and looks down into her impatient eyes. “I heard things about an island. You’re bringing me, right?”

“No chance in hell.” She slips through the gap between the wall and his body, but instead of going straight to the kitchen, she pads barefoot into the bathroom in the hall and slams the door shut so the entire apartment trembles.

“Want a coffee?” I push Cato out of my way and gently tap on the bathroom door as I pass. “Babe?”

“Yes please. Double shot.”

Ha. No. She’s already a workaholic who forgets to slow down and eat. She doesn’t need extra caffeine to aid her pursuit of sanity. Moving into the living room and passing our snowy-white cat with bright eyes, I stalk straight to the kitchen and snatch down a coffee mug with Copeland City P.D. plastered on the side.

It used to be mine.

Now, it’s hers, while I scavenge around in search of whatever other mug exists in this home.

“What are you doing today?” I don’t turn around and search for my baby brother. I know he’s close. “Anything productive? Or do you intend to lay waste to Copeland’s female population a little more?”

He chuckles, playful as he strolls closer and picks up a basketball from the couch. He spins it on his finger. Which is better than the constant bouncing on the floor we’ve endured until recently. “I was thinking of heading to New York, actually.”

Curious, I set the first mug beneath the machine’s spout, hit the button, and turn my ass around to study the boy who escaped New York only recently. “What?”

“Pastore’s dead, Arch. Lix might’ve gotten the green light from Cordoza, but you know shit’s still gonna be hot over there right now.”

“So you’re heading in to a mafia war and hoping to protect the man who is supposed to protect you? You’re a child, Cato. It’s not your job to have Lix’s back.”

“None of us were ever children.” He bounces the ball once. Habit. But he catches it again and hugs it to his chest. “Cordoza’s on Felix’s side anyway, so there won’t be a war. Pastore was a weaselly cockhead living on borrowed time. I just wanna go over there and check things out. See Lix for myself.”

Because Felix raised Cato.

For better or worse, whatever we ended up with in the teen fueled by sex and impulsivity, Felix had raised him from infancy. And now that boy wants to know that the man who was more a father than his real father, is okay.

“Besides, I wanna check in on the Christabelle situation.”

I turn back to the coffee machine when it beeps that it’s done, scoffing when I picture the brown-haired, silver-eyed beauty Felix has claimed for his own. “She’s not yours, Cato. She’s Felix’s. Move on.”

“She looks at me weird,” he grumbles. “Plus, she’s ours. She’s our family now.”

“Uh-huh.” I lean into the fridge and take out a carton of creamer, pouring a dollop in just as Minka comes out of the bathroom and heads our way. “Wait for us to close up this case and we’ll fly over with you.” I pick up the coffee and pass it the moment she’s close enough to smell. Her perfume fills my lungs, sending an odd tingle to the base of my spine. “We can take a day and head across.”

“Where are we going?” She brings her coffee up and takes a long, noisy sniff until I know she feels the caffeine in her toes. “He’s not coming on my honeymoon.”

“You’re a fuckin grump,” Cato scowls. But when my eyes swing up to meet his, he flashes a playful grin and turns away. “Cute. But grumpy. I’m heading over to the Condor’s stadium today to get in a little time with the team.”

“Uh…” I turn from them both and start my own coffee. “Mr. Whittaker invited you over to play? Why?”

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