live in peace.”
“I like peace,” she says in a Californian surfer drawl. “Is it odd being a cop who likes peace?”
“No. I would imagine that’s exactly why you’re a cop.”
“Sometimes I wish we weren’t needed, but we are, and I feel like ultimately that’s what I’m striving toward. To keep the peace.”
“Did you always want to be a cop?”
She nods against my chest. “Arden, Vanessa, and I used to play cops and robbers, and I was always the cop.”
“You were never the robber?”
She shakes her head. “Never. Not once. I remember this one time, they pretended to break into a jewelry store, but it turned out Vanessa was the owner and needed the insurance—”
She stops talking, blinks, and says, “Holy shit.”
I sit up straight. “What is it?”
She stares at me, her eyes widening as she sits up in bed too. “I think I know who broke into the jewelry store a few months ago.”
My brow pinches. “Vanessa?”
She shakes her head, then launches into a rocket-fast explanation of a jewelry store theft that has bedeviled the chief. But she gives no details about who she thinks is behind it.
“I’m not following. Should I be following?”
Laughing, she shakes her head. “No. I can’t go into the specifics, but I think I’ve got it figured out.”
“Do you need to go write this down? Call the chief? Or go arrest someone?” I roam my gaze down her bare body, savoring her curves and praying she won’t have to leave my bed anytime soon.
She points at the dark window. “Yeah, I’m going to go knock on doors and haul in bad guys right now.”
“Put some clothes on first, will ya?”
“Yes, that’s it. I’m going to interrogate suspects in my birthday suit.”
“I like your birthday suit.”
She narrows her eyes. “Want me to interrogate you, then?”
I let my eyes stray downward to my crotch. “You can interrogate me with your sexy mouth, officer.”
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Trouble. I will do that soon enough.”
I gaze up at the ceiling and press my palms together. “Thank you, Lord.”
Rolling her eyes, she nudges my waist with her elbow. “There’s no rush on the investigation. I’ll deal with it tomorrow and discuss it with the chief when I see him.”
I tap her forehead. “Also, since you mentioned my magnificent dick, can we talk about this magnificent brain? The way you put that together right now in the middle of a conversation about cops and robbers was damn impressive, kitten.”
She mimics me from earlier, blowing on her fingernails.
“I mean it. Watching you crack the case was hot. Though that might be because you’re naked in my bed, with that just-been-fucked look. Incidentally, you wear the just-been-fucked look quite well.”
“Do I?” Her voice dips into sexy, smoky territory.
In response, my dick heads to the land of the upright. “You wear it spectacularly well.” I trail my hand down her side, groaning appreciatively at the intoxicating feel of her soft flesh. “Hey, Perri?”
“Yes?” Her voice is vulnerable.
We’re side by side, and she looks at me as I run a hand along her hair. “You’re beautiful.”
She smiles shyly, and I’ve never seen her look like that, but it suits her. That hint of sweetness, that touch of demure. “So are you.”
In that moment, with the moonlight slicing through the windows, with the night wrapping around us, something shifts. We’ve stripped off the teasing; we’ve removed the barbs and the jabs. And we’ve given in to the physical.
But this second goes further. It feels emotional. It feels possible, like we could be more than two housemates who are hot for each other.
Trouble is, I don’t know how we stay on this level. I don’t know if she wants to.
With my gaze locked on hers, I swallow then ask an open-ended question. “So where do we go from here?”
She throws it right back at me. “Where do you want to go?”
And maybe this is the snuggling question all over again. Maybe it’s best if we focus tonight on the horizontal.
“I feel like you’re not out of my system.” The words don’t quite come out like seduction. They come out like the truth. They have a double meaning, although I suspect the bedroom definition is easier for both of us.
“I feel like you’re not out of my system either.” She punctuates her words with a soft, barely-there kiss. A kiss that seems to reveal that maybe we’re on the same page.
But pages like this are hard to stay on when you’re not entirely sure.
They’re hard to stay on,