he wanted from me.” He shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”
Nick shifted his weight next to me. “He’s not fazed in the slightest.”
No. The hot-headed kid I’d known had grown into an ice-cold adult. Aiden glanced at Zimmerman. “That all you got?”
Pierce leaned forward, drawing his attention. “Not even close. We have a very pretty grey-eyed deputy prosecutor who found this picture.” He pushed one across again. “Of you with Melvin Whitaker, behind two kids who are now dead. The sweet lawyer also talked to Whitaker’s neighbors and discovered you’d visited a few times.”
“Damn it,” Nick snapped.
I blinked. “What?”
“He just put your neck out there.” Fury vibrated low in Nick’s tone. “I’m going to kick his ass.”
Pierce went for the kill. “I believe you know my deputy prosecutor.”
Aiden’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Not even close. His fingers stopped tapping, and he leaned forward this time. “She’s nowhere near yours, Pierce. She never will be.”
I blinked. What was happening?
“Ah, crap,” Nick muttered.
I turned toward him. “I don’t understand.”
Nick glanced down and snorted, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”
There was a whole lot of subtext going on here, and I was missing all of it. “I’ve just been doing my job,” I said, trying to make sense of the conversation. Was Pierce trying to get a rise out of Aiden by using me? If so, why would that make Aiden mad? Sure, he’d kissed me, but we hadn’t been friends for twelve years. “This is befuddling,” I muttered.
Nick coughed out a laugh.
Aiden glanced at where I stood, somehow, and turned back to Pierce. “Does she know why you left LAPD?”
I perked up.
Pierce didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t believe we’ve had that conversation yet. Although, considering she spent the night with prosecuting attorney Nicolo Basanelli last night, I don’t know that she wants to understand my life.”
Nick’s indrawn breath coincided with my gasp.
I swiveled toward him. “I did not stay the night.”
“I know,” he said dryly. “I’m sorry. Detective Pierce made a comment about my bandage today, and I retorted that it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one you’d done for me. Apparently, he’s running with the innuendo. Probably just to see if he can get beneath Devlin’s skin. I’ll set him straight after this. I promise.”
Great. That’s all I needed. Then I stared back into the room. Aiden’s expression remained the same, so Pierce’s gamble hadn’t worked. Then he looked up again. Directly at me.
Fire burned in those blue eyes. All sorts of different hues of blue flames. I took an involuntary step back.
“Well then,” Nick breathed. “Guess that answers that.”
Chapter 22
Wednesday had been one of the longest days of my life, and I drove down my long driveway, sighing in relief at having the day almost done. Of course, my dad would probably be calling within the hour with the news that I’d received an anniversary card.
I loved June eighth through December twenty-first. I truly did.
For now, I was going to relax. Until I saw Aiden’s black and shiny chrome motorcycle right up against my garage door. Come on. He’d only been let loose an hour before, and he’d headed right to my place? I stopped my car and rested my head on the steering wheel.
I ran through my options of leaving, calling the police, or facing him.
He came around the garage, no doubt having heard my car. He was still wearing the jeans and motorcycle jacket, and as he leaned against the siding, he was quite the sight. Bad boy behind his bike. I should’ve taken a picture and sold it for calendars.
Instead, I exited my car and slammed the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure.” His oh shucks shrug was kind of appealing, although the dangerous glint in his eye negated any cuteness. “I had a shitty day, and chances are, so did you.” He ran a rough hand through his thick hair, leaving it ruffled and too sexy. “You know what today is.”
Yeah. So, he did remember. I glanced at my watch. It was surprising my dad hadn’t called yet. “What do you want, Aiden?”
His gaze ran from my boots to my face. Then he cocked his head at the bike. “Wanna go for a ride?”
I stilled. A ride? My gaze slid from him to the big bike. Sure, I’d ridden dirt bikes my entire life, but a motorcycle on the open road was another story. I couldn’t just go for a ride with him. The guy had just been