Page 40 of Gentle Persuasion

Morgan made a dive for the phone and relegated Buddy to the sidelines again.

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

“I’m not,” she whispered. “Not about one single, solitary thing that’s happened between us. Not from the first day I arrived. And not about last night, either. Just because your father assumed something doesn’t put you on the spot with me, Cole Brownfield. What happened last night doesn’t either. You have to want me as much as I want you, and then we’ll talk. Until then, why don’t you just go with the flow, darlin’. You California people live life too fast. You need to take it one day at a time.” Then she leaned forward and whispered against his lips, “Nice and easy…it’s the only way to go.”

He grinned and closed his eyes as he tasted her words. They were reminiscent of last night’s loving and this morning’s breakfast. It was the first time he’d ever realized that making love and maple syrup were alike—both of them slow moving and very, very sweet. And then she walked out of his arms and up to the phone.

“My turn.” She smiled as Morgan handed her the phone and a kiss.

Cole watched the expressions coming and going on her face and knew that he was over his head in love with Deborah Randall. What he did about it would be an entirely different matter. For one long, delicious moment he allowed himself to dream—about loving and life and Debbie and babies. And then he saw a familiar brown leather wallet lying on the counter. He walked over and picked it up.

His badge.

He knew instantly when he’d lost it. Last night, when he’d shed every stitch of both clothing and inhibition and crawled into the pool with her.

His fingers traced the outline of his badge, smoothing the cool metal until it warmed beneath his touch. Worry tinged the edges of his conscience, but he shoved it back into a deeper part of his mind. Today was not a day for borrowing troubles. Today was not the day to decide if his life and a wife would coincide. His baby sister was now a mother. It was enough…just for today.

Chapter 8

Thomas Holliday was pissed. He looked at his reflection as he walked past a store window and frowned. He had a deep scratch on his face and two more on his neck.

Damn fool bitch!

Last night Nita Warren had given him some cock-and-bull excuse about not wanting to make it because he wouldn’t wear a condom. He’d tried every excuse and plea he could think of and then when she’d persisted, he’s slapped her around and done it anyway. He didn’t know why she’d cried and argued. Women were all alike. They didn’t know what they wanted. But he did. They wanted someone to take control and show them a good time. He was real good at taking control. And he could care less if they had a good time. It was his own pleasure that mattered most.

A police car turned the corner in front of him, and for one moment, his heart accelerated and jumped into the roof of his mouth. He swallowed it back where it belonged, took a deep breath, and stared at the cruiser’s taillights as it went past.

He didn’t know why he was so jumpy. But he kept remembering that woman from the beach. It was more than a coincidence that she’d seen him make the snatch, and then saw him again at the mall. It had never happened before. He’d never left witnesses…at least, none that were willing to talk.

He shook off his nervousness. It was only snatch and grab. He didn’t know why he was worrying. Cops had bigger fish to fry. He hitched at the bulge behind his zipper and strutted off down the street.

***

Jackie Warren wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. His sister, Nita, had come home crying last night, claiming that she’d been raped. He’d tried to work up a rage of family loyalty but it had been lost in his need for a fix. Granted he was the man of the family now that his old man was in the joint, but today wasn’t a good day for Jackie. At least, it hadn’t been until he’d made the rounds. He’d heard on the streets that the cops were looking for Thomas Holliday. It had worked up his weak need for justice and revenge all over again, especially since he knew that he could sell his information and replenish his supply in one fell swoop. Ordinarily, one street-wise tough didn’t sell out another. But Jackie Warren held a distinct but little known title. He was what was known as a “source.” He sold information to the cops and, in return, kept his nose in business. Jackie Warren headed for the phone. He had an instantaneous need to unburden his soul.

***

“Don’t fix dinner tonight,” Cole said, as he started out the door. “We’re invited to Rick and Tina’s.”

“Cole…” His name was a gentle reminder on her lips that he’d told her, not asked. It was also a reminder that he was about to leave without telling her goodbye.

He made it outside before he stopped and turned around, walked back inside the house, and hauled her off her feet and into his arms.

“Lady, you’re the only person I’ve ever known who could draw my name out into more than one syllable.”

“You don’t like it?”

He nuzzled the side of her neck and traced the inner shell of her ear with his tongue. “It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard,” he whispered.

“Good,” she answered. “I have nothing against sex.” She ignored his laugh. “And now, what was it you were muttering about as you were so rudely leaving?”

“Rick wants us to come over. Tina’s been dying to meet you. Are you up to it? Don’t feel obligated to come on—”

Debbie’s hands slid around his back as her whisper slid across his mouth. “I’m up to just about anything that you’re up to. And I’d love to meet your friends. Tell them we’re coming. Morgan and Buddy can eat pizza.”

Cole shivered. Her sexy references to being “up” had nothing to do with dinner invitations, and they both knew it. His body ached. It had been too long since he’d shared her bed. Cohabitating in a house with too many people had its drawbacks. Basically, it just couldn’t be done without openly admitting it was happening. And, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore her feelings. He didn’t want her embarrassed in front of his family. But he wanted her. And they both knew it.

“Be ready about six.” He kissed her once as he started to leave and then turned. The look he gave her was more than a promise of promptness. It was full of assurances that he would come back. And he would be safe. “I won’t be late.” And then he was gone.

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