Page 77 of Wicked Sin

I am now. “Okay, officer,” I say breathily. “What do you want to know?”

25

Luke

It would be too fuckingeasy to sink right into that role-play. Pin her down and “question” her until she screams my name. Sadly, McBride actually did send a list of questions, so we need to be semi-serious as we go through them. I get the email on my phone, then sprawl on the couch with Taylor curled up on my lap.

It’s wild how comfortable I’ve gotten with having her here—on my lap, in my house, in my life—in a few short days.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve learned that secrets destroy me. So…bring it on. I have a lifetime of shit to unpack. What’s one more set of squirm-worthy questions?”

“Hopefully, these won’t be so bad.”

We start by confirming how long she’s lived at her address, if she’s had any neighbor changes in the last six months, and the date she started working as a peer counselor at LAST.

“Why do you need to know that?” she asks after she tells me the information.

“Sometimes a change in behavior can grab someone’s attention. Any life change is worth making a note of, looking around at that time. Did you meet someone new? Rebuff any attempts to date you? That kind of thing.”

She shakes her head. “Nothing like that. I put out a pretty strongnot interestedsignal into the universe.”

“It didn’t work on me.”

Leaning back to better look at me, she tips her head to the side and gets a puzzled expression on her face. “No, I don’t think I had the same shields with you. Huh.”

I can’t help but grin. I try to hold it in, but my lips twitch, and the smile spreads against my will.

“What about new co-workers?”

Here she hesitates. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about the work that we do at LAST and who does it. But that has always felt like a very safe space to me—no spider sense tingles, no creepiness. And I’m the only new hire in the last year. Our clients are all women or people who identify as non-gender conforming. Don’t you think this is a man?”

We do, so I let that go for now.

“New friends?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t have any friends. I know that sounds horribly lonely, but I’ve been really focused on myself for the last couple of years. My only friend is my youngest sister, really. And she has her own life in San Francisco.”

“You don’t trust easily.”

“Or at all. I’m a messed up girl, Luke. Never forget that.”

“I won’t.”You’re safe with me, Taylor.I kiss her softly, my lips dusting against hers. Against the corner of her mouth, then again on the soft, sweet swell of her lower lip, and to the other corner. Back and forth. I’ve got kisses for days. “Did you ever go up to San Francisco, then?”

“Once. Ali is more likely to come here for a visit. Her husband is a Mayfair.”

“Of the New England Mayfairs, I assume.”

She giggles. “Of the Mayfair Enterprise Mayfairs. Microconductors? LaunchX? They’re going to send the first manned mission to Mars.”

“Oh. Those Mayfairs,” I tease right back. I don’t follow business news. “I thought he looked more like a special forces operator.”

“He was, in the past. Newly returned to the family fold. They have an office here, and he sometimes comes for work, and brings Ali with him.”

“Nice. So when she comes down, where do you go? We’re looking to push some pins into a map, basically. See if we can find a trend.” I’m not going to tell her that McBride will overlay Taylor’s social map with the victims of the reservoir murderer and try to find points of commonality.

She rattles off a list of high-end spas and shopping areas. Then she lists a plastic surgeon. “What? You don’t think I look like this naturally, do you?”

---