Page 29 of Always Been Mine

“All right. Stop. Right there.” She could feel tendrils of smoke rise from her ears. “I’m covered.”

“Sure you are. By me.” Gabe stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“You just got here.”

Gabe grinned at her. “Are you asking me to spend the night?”

“Absolutely not!”

His face sobered. “I’m serious about making this work, babe. I can be patient.”

He tipped back the mug and finished his beverage.

“But—”

“I have to get home. Rhino won’t be happy being cooped up in the house again.”

“Who the hell is Rhino?”

“My dog—”

“You have a dog?”

Gabe took the mug from her and set it on the table. He pulled her to her feet and gently pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight thirty.”

He strode to the door, pulled it open, and said, “Lock up behind me.”

What the hell just happened?

After tossingand turning for most of the night, Beatrice gave up on sleep and decided to go for another brisk run early that morning. An hour later, she was back at the condo, all showered and dressed for the day. She sipped her coffee as she pored over the morning newspaper.

The escalating tensions in the Middle East and Ukraine topped the headlines. Below that was the death of Eric Stone. There was a statement from the lead singer of Titanium Rose asking the press to give the band some privacy as they grieved the passing of one of their own. Beatrice winced when she saw a picture of herself and Eric exiting a Georgetown bar holding hands. They had some good times. She quickly noted where and when the wake and funeral was. When she turned the page to follow the story in another section, that was when she saw it.

A small article with the title: “Gang violence escalates in Cloverleaf District.” A familiar picture of a dark-haired woman stared back at her, except Beatrice knew her when she was blonde. It was Blondie who attacked her with red paint a week ago. She quickly scanned the article. The bodies of five people, three women and two men, were found in an alley in the worst area of Northern Virginia. The Cloverleaf District was home to abandoned warehouses and dilapidated buildings. Street gangs basically ruled the vicinity. It was a constantbattle of dominance and alliances, cooperation and competition. Russian, German, Latino, and even Asian gangs vied for control.

Beatrice pondered whether to call the detectives with this information, but something held her back. Besides, Cloverleaf wasn’t their jurisdiction.

Her intercom buzzed.

“Yes?”

“A Gabriel Sullivan is here to see you, Ms. Porter.”

Her eyes drifted to the clock, 8:15 a.m. “Send him up.” She could probably use Gabe for some sleuthing and muscle. Hah! She didn’t even feel guilty.

There was a light knock on her door. Her heart rate skittered the same time she berated herself for feeling as though she was going on a first date. She stopped her knees from wobbling and opened the door, trying not to gape.

A leather-jacket clad Gabe stood there, holding a bag of what might be baked goods and a tray of fresh coffee. But what made her jaw almost hit the floor was how he was smiling at her. A grin that reached his eyes and transformed his face from hard planes to pure masculine hotness. Gabe was the guy who could make her panties drop with a smile.

“Uh, are you going to invite me in?” Gabe asked. Beatrice wanted to smack him on the head when his smile morphed into a semi-smirk. The asshole knew his effect on her and was turning on the charm.

“Sorry, caffeine hadn’t kicked in yet. Doug has a key and I don’t have to bother with opening doors in the morning.” She was babbling while she inhaled his scent as he walked past her—leather and soap. Hmm . . . what if sweat was added to the mix?

Sex-induced sweat.

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