Page 18 of Sighs By the Sea

“I was in the neighborhood,” I say, trying to match her tone.

“So, you do have a sense of humor.” The smug expression on her face only makes her look all the more adorable.

“Not usually.” We stare at each other. I hope she understands she has an effect on me that I’m tantalized by. If the growing red on her cheeks is any indication, she does. My gaze drifts down to her full lips. She smells good, like fresh oranges. Citrusy. It's positively alluring on her. I have never hurt for women. Part of that is knowing how to use my six-foot frame and dark eyes to lure them in. But Maggie is the one doing all the luring right now, and without even trying.

“Did you need something?” Did she not hear me? She brings something out in me. Something that's been dead for a long time. Yes, I need something. Her.

“Come out for drinks with me.” I almost can’t believe I'm asking that, but her face brightens, a smile lighting up her whole face.

“What about George?”

“Tilly can watch him.” She studies my face for a moment, and her smile falters a bit. "I don't think Tilly likes me very much."

Me either, but I don't say that. Instead, I take her hand in mine. "Tilly doesn't like anyone at first. She's a very protective woman."

"Grayson, I can't get between you and your family. They have obviously done a lot for you." She sighs and pulls her hand away. "I came her to warn you and get information. Be careful, okay?" Her gaze lingers on me, a soft sadness reflecting back at me.

But I'm not that easily deterred. For one thing, if Tilly truly had an issue with what I'm doing, she would be down here, probably with a twin on each hip, demanding I return to my son upstairs. No, she might complain, but she won't interfere. A car is pulling into the lot, and her gaze shifts that way. "Trust me, Maggie, they couldn't care less. We've lived through danger our entire lives. Tommy and Tilly are probably up there joking about us and contracts on my life as we speak."

We both watch as the Prius rolls to a stop right next to her. “My ride’s here, Grayson. Call me if you think of anything to help the case,” she says. Damn. That hurts. A lot. For a woman that I don’t know very well, I’m oddly affected by her decline.

But I don’t want to let her go. I want to explore these feelings with her, more than anything else. Was she not up there with us? With George and me? There's something so easy between us, that I can't let her go without trying harder to make her see it.

I grip her shoulders and pull her close to me. I’m surprised to feel just how perfectly she fits against me, though she’s a head shorter. It's rash, and if she tries to get away, I won't stop her, but her body relaxes against mine instantly. Sometimes, it can pay to put my pride on the line. A second rejection might have torn me up, but feeling her body warm against my chest was worth the risk.

“Mr. Cardenas, this could be considered assault on a police officer,” she says, but her broad grin and teasing tone tell me a different story.

“Don’t tempt me,” I say, matching her playfulness. My hand slides up the back of her neck, under her ponytail. As I stroke my thumb over her skin and stare at her lips, I feel her heart rate pick up. Same thing mine is doing. Fuck. I’m ready to taste her. My whole body is begging for me to lower my face. But I have to wait, have to let it be her decision.

Maggie’s hands fly to my face, and I brace myself for a slap. Instead, they land on my cheeks and tug me down to her. Our lips collide. My hands lower to her hips, and our bodies press together, touching from thigh to collarbone.

With a cautious feel, I let my tongue tease the seam of her lips. Her mouth opens, and I slip inside. Warmth invades all my senses, sending me careering into the sky. Every nerve is alive with sensations I haven't felt in years. Maybe longer. I can't remember the last time I was kissed like this. She moans against me. At the sound, my giant hands go to her ass, pulling her off the ground and pressing her back against the Uber.

I don’t care that the driver is probably going to be pissed or that she’s a detective or how I could be risking my job and house. All I can do is taste the quirky, sunshine-filled detective. The kiss is igniting something deep in my chest, like a bloom of color in my black-and-white world. The crawl of tingles across my skin sinks into my very bones.

Her hands drop, but only to slide up the back of my shirt. Bare fingers brush onto my skin, lighting my world on fire.

She pulls her mouth away, and I suck on her neck. “Oh, that's good,” she says in a breathy whisper. Some sort of animalistic roar builds in my stomach as my cock stiffens. I angle my hip to press it against her. She whimpers into my chest, and I can't stop the long sigh that I breathe out.

“Maggie, come get drinks with me,” I say between nibbles. Her eyes shoot open. The moment is shattered. Maggie’s warm amber eyes meet mine, swirling with confusion. She’s panting but doesn’t look away. I set her down and back a single step away.

“I’m working. I’m a detective,” she says as if reminding herself.

I lean back. There’s something I can’t read in her expression, but it’s very close to regret. “Right,” I say and straighten the bottom of my shirt. She had untucked my polo in the back to get her beautiful fingers on my skin.

The Uber driver cracks his window. “Uh, lady. You’re Margaret P., right?” She nods without looking away.

“I’m gonna go, Grayson, but uh, thanks for dinner.” Her tone has gone back to the clipped detective mode, and my heart shatters.

But as she turns, there’s a screech down the road. Tires shriek against the asphalt, and I see a car flying toward us, its engine roaring like a beast unleashed. The evening air suddenly shifts, a prickling sensation crawling up my spine as adrenaline kicks in. The car is low and sleek, windows tinted enough that I can't see inside at all. Until the window smoothly rolls down.

Something glints in the lowering sunlight.

Maggie understands a second before I do. Her voice bites out, “Gun! Down!”

She drops to the ground, and for a moment, I’m too stunned to move. The realization crashes over me, and I hear the rapid-fire pops of gunshots, a staccato burst that echoes in the night. The Uber driver isn’t waiting around; his tires squeal as he speeds off, leaving us exposed in the harsh glow of the streetlight.

Without thinking, I dive onto Maggie, the impact of our bodies hitting the pavement knocking the wind from my lungs. My heart pounds a frantic rhythm as the barrage of bullets sprays in our direction, a deadly hailstorm that seems to go on forever.

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