Page 32 of Sinful Promise
“Hm. That’s a filthy shame.” I press a kiss to his lips that surprises us both—I don’t kiss in public!—then I turn to Tim;Did you do the family scooping?
As though he can read my mind, he lifts his hands and strides toward Daisy’s end of the bar to keep working.
Soft. Both of them.
I bring my gaze back to Archer and lose myself in his delicious grin. His dancing eyes, and the aftershave he spritzes on some mornings so the smell has burned itself into my psyche.
I could find him blind. Deaf. I could find him in a room of a thousand men, and all I’d need is my sense of smell—and, if I’m lucky, my hands to touch. To trace. To remember.
“Did you find Patterson’s driver?”
“Nope.” He takes a fry from his plate, but offers it across for me to bite. “Whitney Patterson’s SUV was clear. She didn’t run anyone down today, and if I’m reading her correctly, she actually loved her husband. Potential adulterous behavior aside, she was devastated when we told her.”
“Expected.” Pushing my plate to the side, I pick up my Coke instead to wash down bread, beef, and potato. “I’d be more than devastated if I got the same news.”
“I’d burn the fucking world down.” He says it so easily, so… casually, the danger in his words doesn’t reach my consciousness for a moment more. “I wouldn’t care who went down at that point. I’d destroy whoever hurt you, Mayet. Then I’d kill his mother, his income, and his family fuckin’ dog before I was finished.” But he flashes a pleasant smile and leans closer to kiss my cheek. “Your color’s coming back. You needed food.”
I think I neededhim, to be honest. I’ve gotten so used to working cases by his side. As the chief medical examiner, and a homicide cop, both situated on the same city street, we’ve had it pretty good since we met. Same turf, same cases, same neighborhoods, and often, same court appearances.
Then New York happened, and Laramie Fentone. Archer and I were pulled in different directions, family obligation versus work, and it changed things.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I tell him instead. “I feel better now that you’re back.”
“Ugh.” Aubree’s faux-gag carries across the bar, so I turn just my head and find her messing with my marriage for the second time in a single day. “I love you, you love me,” she rolls her eyes. “We’re both just really sexy, successful people. Everyone knows it already, Chief. You don’t have to scream about it so much.” She struts across the bar and leans between us, taking a fry from my plate.
Pulling back to nibble on her dinner, she glances toward Daisy and lifts a single, dangerous brow.Poor, innocent, not-hooking-up-with-Tim Daisy. “How are things in here?”
“We have to be nice to her.” I sit taller on my stool, and smirk when Archer winks. Then he goes back to eating his burger, because the faster we finish, the sooner we can go home and relax. “She seems nice.”
“Yeah, well…” When Tim looks our way and stares for a hell of a long beat, Aubree’s cheeks color with a warm blush. “Whatever. She’s been here a while now, and she hasn’t gone out of her way to piss us off.”
“Glass is half-full. I’m proud of you.” Turning my back to the bar, but grabbing my plate to set it on my lap, I use the heavy wooden countertop to support my weight as I continue eating. “The purple in your hair was a good move. He liked it.”
Considering, she peeks to Arch and nibbles on her bottom lip in thought. “Would you wanna bang Mayet more if she dyed her hair purple?”
He remains facing the mirrored wall. His contribution to our conversation as minimal as humanly possible. But still, he chuckles so his chest bounces in silence. “I already bang Mayet. It’s a done deal.”
I’d like to say that’s a lie, that I still play hard to get. But I know my truths. And Archer Malone works my body like a bass player works his instrument.
“Right,” Aubree hedges. “But say you weren’t banging yet but you really wanted to. Would the color in her hair change things?”
“Minka Mayet could have horns on her head, three tits, and a weird rash on her ass, and I’d still want to bang her.” He looks my way and winks. “Every damn day of my life.”
I roll my eyes. “Charming.”
“I don’t think the color of your hair changes things, Aubs.” Smug, he twists on his seat until his back is to the wall and his shoulder becomes my leaning post. “If a man likes a woman, he’ll pursue her. I think the purple just gave Tim an excuse to compliment you without feeling too forward. Go get your nose pierced next. I bet he’ll say something about that, too.”
Frowning, she reaches up and cups her nose. “I’ll pass. Seeing as how altering one’s body to impress a man is…” She drops her hand and scrunches her nose. “No bueno.”
“Good girl.” Done with my fries, I twist and set my plate on the bar. “If you’d even considered heading to a piercing place, I’d show you how I could modify your body via my scalpel.”
“Aggressive,” she grumbles.
“Hey, someone turn that up,” a cop from the downtown precinct calls above the din of the crowd, then nods toward the television that Tim has hanging over by the pool tables.
I don’t even have to look to know what’s on. I don’t have to turn my head to know I won’t like what I see. But I spin anyway, so Laramie Fentone’s mugshot smacks me right between the brows and almost takes the air from my lungs.
The tension in Archer’s shoulders grows as Tim grabs the remote and brings the volume up. So I startle when his hand presses to my thigh. A comforting touch any other time, but like a gunshot in the night right now, as a hundred cops spin our way and watch a news report about a dead pedophile.
