Page 17 of Sinful Seduction
I crack the can and bring the icy liquid to my lips, and since we have somewhere to be, I stride to the door and grab my phone and keys on the way past.
“Not gonna happen?” He sighs and follows me out. “Kinda figured that was coming, too.” But he’s a smart, sensible man, and he knew what he was marrying.Twice. So he tugs the apartment door shut and slings his arm over my shoulders as we start down the stairs. “Fletch said he’s gonna meet us at the dress shop, since he’s only just woken up, too. He’ll bring Mia, but Penny will come, too. That way, he and I can break away and get back to the hospital to check on our witness.”
“Did you get an update?” I slip my free hand into his back pocket and time my steps with his so we can traverse the stairs without the up-down misalignment. “She still alive?”
He tips his water back and chugs, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every swallow. Already, sweat forms on my skin, a dirty sheen that sticks to my flesh and makes me wish for another shower.
“She’s alive.” He wipes his lips with the shoulder of his shirt. “That’s all I’ve got so far. I checked my emails while you were drying your hair. Officer Clay arrived at the hospital approximately two hours ago. He relieved the officers on her door and reassigned them along the hall, and now he reckons he’s staying till Fletch and I are back on the clock.”
“He looked kinda rough last night.” I pull away from his side—he’s running at four-hundred-degrees, I swear—but I take his hand and keep us linked. “I didn’t have time to talk to him on scene, but from where I was, he looked pretty shaken. How’s he doing?”
“Pretending it doesn’t bother him.” He leads me down the stairs,quicker now that we’re not connected at the hip. “He’s still carrying the psychological scars from his own GSW, though he wishes he didn’t. It’s bad luck that he was the responding officer last night, because he could do without the harsh reminder. He’s set on standing up and following this one through.”
“Some people prefer to face things head-on, I guess. Some prefer avoidance.” I catch shadowed movement on the ground floor, the soft shuffling of feet that could only belong to one person. And it just so happens I don’t feel the need to ignorethisperson, so I paste on a friendly smile and skip down the last few steps before I’m rewarded with Steve’s well-worn, slightly droopy face.
But his eyes… they’re as youthful as they would have been the day he was born.
“Hi there.” I drop Archer’s hand and leave him with my Pepsi, all so I can walk straight into Steve’s waiting arms, his cardigan-covered chest warming me another thousand degrees, then his lips tickling my skin as he presses a soft kiss to my cheek.
“You look well, Doctor Mayet. Despite your late-night work commitments.”
“The fact you keep track of my whereabouts even in the middle of the night is a concern. And you shoulddefinitelybe inside your apartment during this midday heat. It’s too damn hot for anything but ice baths.”
“I heard you coming.” His jaw is tight, even beneath loose jowls. His brows, overgrown and curtaining his eyes, kind of like those old Scottish dogs from the television ads. “I saw you arrive this morning, Chief, and I might’ve heard about a slight ruckus from your apartment an hour ago.” He whips thin lips into a wide grin. “Mrs. Mayweather was a little concerned about the noise she heard through her ceiling, so…”
“Mrs. Mayweather’s getting a little nosey, don’t you think?” I brush his long sleeves up and expose his arms. I’m out here melting in far less fabric, but he’s happy to wear lamb’s wool, even in the summer. “How are you not dying of heat? You’re not even sweating.”
“Used to it, I guess.” He takes my hands between his, sandwiching all four together in a kind of prayer pose. “You’ll be careful out there today, won’t you, Chief? They’re talking on the news about how people get extra fussy in the heat. And the news even said they’re worried about the grid going down. Too much pressure, not enough power to go around.”
“I’ll be careful. Though you should know, I’mnotgoing to work right now.” I lean a little closer, playfully whispering, “I’m going to the dumbdress shop to try on a dumb dress—again—for Aubree’s wedding. This is the most danger I’ll be in all week.”
He pulls back and firms his lips, unimpressed.
“Chances are, I’ll kill someone before the day’s out, or they’ll kill me. Worse, I’ll for sure sweat on the dumb dress, which will annoy Fifi, since she’s all proper and picky about that stuff.”
“Might you consider taking a deep breath before speaking?” He shakes his head from side to side. “And you, Detective.” He looks past me to a quietly watchful, ridiculously patient Archer. “Hiding all weapons, I hope?”
“She’s not allowed any.” He comes down the final step, juggling both drinks in one hand, before reaching out with the other and shaking Steve’s. “And please, apologize to Mrs. Mayweather on our behalf. The esteemed Chief Mayet had a mental break. Fortunately, she’s got herself under control now.”
“It wasn’t a mental break,” I grumble, but I study the side of Steve’s neck, and the pulse that pounds visibly, even from beneath loose skin. Furrowing my brows, I press my fingers to the thundering spot. “Your heart normally work this hard, or did you run a marathon and forget to mention it?”
He brushes my hand away and covers the spot with his palm. “It’s hot out, Chief, and I’m an old man. I’m not sure anything is normal anymore.”
I snag his wrist and rest my fingertips over his pulse, counting while my eyes track over his chest. His belly. “Eighty-six beats per minute is fast for an old guy at rest.” I bring my focus up again, to his open lips. “Have you experienced any shortness of breath?”
He shakes me off and drags his sleeve back down again. “I’mallowed to call myself an old man, Ms. Mayet.Youare not.”
“Steve—”
“And no, I have not experienced shortness of breath.” He looks at Archer. “She send you a bill every time she doctors you, even when you don’t ask her to?”
“She rarely doctors me,” he chuckles. “She focuses mostly on the dead, and so far, I’ve escaped that outcome with a hundred percent accuracy.”
“Well, so have I. And I don’t intend to join them anytime soon.” He hits me with an impatient glare. “Stop fussing over me, young lady. I’m fit as a fiddle and don’t need to be reminded I’ve passed the midpoint between yesterdays and tomorrows. Now go.” He waves us away. “Try on the dumb dress, anddon’thurt the bride’s feelings. It’s her day, Doctor Mayet. Not yours. Perhaps you could set aside your incessant need for huffingand puffing, and instead, fake a smile. It could be your gift to the lovely couple.”
I take my Pepsi and back up a step. “It’s Aubree and Tim. I assure you, there’s nothinglovelyabout either of them.” I wander toward the door and heft it open, only to be hit by steamy outside air. But then I turn back and meet Steve’s muddy brown stare. “I’d like to point out the irony of you scolding my huffing and puffing… while huffing and puffing. Could it be possible that you’re a terrible patient?”
“I’m not a patient! I’m just a man, minding his own business inside his own apartment building.”
