“If you’re worried Vance can see us on the cameras, don’t. He’s after a skip.”
With everything that happened, I’d forgotten about the cameras.
I did a mental review of my time in the house without Vance and realized with relief I’d been clothed through all of it and hadn’t done anything embarrassing like dance around singing “Sir Duke” with Stevie Wonder (which I was prone to do).
I decided to ignore the cameras, for now. “A skip?”
“Someone who skipped bond. Vance is in Wyoming.”
For some strange reason knowing that and finding out from Luke slid in deep like a knife to the chest and it hurt like hell.
He pushed away from the counter, index and middle fingers around the neck of the bottle, and walked up to me, like Vance did, overpowering and right in my space.
Then he put the hand not holding the beer to my neck, thumb at my jaw. I had no idea what he was up to but I stood my ground, head-crackin’ mamma jamma that I was, no retreat.
I rethought my decision when I looked in his face.
This was not badass, Super Dude Luke. His look was gentle and if he was kickass hot normally, gentle would have taken me to a serious Grade Three belly flutter if I wasn’t hung up on Vance.
“He shouldn’t have f**ked a virgin,” Luke said to me.
Oh my God.
Any hint of a belly flutter disappeared. Mace had heard the cherry popping discussion and talked.
I tried to jerk my head away but his fingers tightened around the back of my neck and I felt the warmth of his body as he got closer, way closer but still not quite touching me with his body.
“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, Jules.” His voice was soft.
“Maybe you should go home now,” I suggested, deciding he was wrong. There was indeed something to be embarrassed about but I didn’t want to have this discussion with him (or anyone for that matter).
“It’s sweet as hell and every f**kin’ guy at the office wished they’d gone after you and trapped you in that alley after you shot out Cordova’s tires. Including me.”
Oh… my… God.
These guys gossiped like a bunch of women.
“I wouldn’t have f**ked you and left you though. No f**kin’ way,” he went on, still talking softly but sounding like he meant it.
Um.
Wow.
I swallowed and straightened my shoulders. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know Vance.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeated and he didn’t and I wasn’t going to tell him.
He stared at me a beat.
Then he said (luckily deciding to switch topics), “Tomorrow, training early. I’m takin’ you out to dinner then we’re going on patrol.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday. No training and I’m going to annoy some dealers tomorrow night. I haven’t done it in days. I don’t want them –”
“Training at four. Dinner. Patrol. You need to take a break from the dealers,” he interrupted me.
“Luke, I’m not going to stop.”