Butterface (The Hartigans #1)(6)

He held up the hotel key card. “Room two-oh-five.”

That stopped her. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s his room number,” he said. “Ford wanted to see you, but he’s stuck in his room waiting for a report to get delivered.”

“Why does he want to see me?” Her natural cynicism warred with the hope for something different this time. He had offered to buy her a drink. She’d been the one to spurn him. And that kiss… Maybe he was hoping for another chance? Could that be possible?

The detective continued, “Look, you’re a smart woman. You know the Kiss Cam was a setup. Ford had been watching you all night, and you may not believe it, but he’s kinda shy and didn’t know how to approach you. The guy’s married to his job. I mean he never dates. I was just trying to do a friend a solid.”

“Really?” She didn’t bother to keep the yeah-sure look off her face even as the quiet voices urging her to believe got louder and louder.

“I know, he’s not the most, shall we say, emotive guy out there, but he’s interested in you, ya know?” Johnnie shrugged. “But if you don’t feel the same, I can pass that message along. He’d just hoped…”

The cop shrugged and let the rest of what he was going to say fade away.

None of this sounded right, but a helium balloon of hope filled her chest anyway. “No offense,” she said. “But why should I believe any of this from you?”

He smacked his hand against his chest over his heart. “Right in the ticker.” Then he held out the key. “Look, you don’t know me from Adam, but I swear I have my buddy’s best interests at heart here, and you seem like a nice lady.” He held up his free hand to stop her from interrupting. “I hate that I put you on the spot with that Kiss Cam thing. Ford feels like shit about it, even though he had no idea what I was up to. He wants to make it up to you. Wanted to at least apologize in person. No one’s forcing an independent, smart woman like you to do anything. Take the key and go talk to Ford or don’t, it’s your choice.”

Gina stared at that key card. Maybe this was a sign that life for her was about to change. That’s what her grandfather would have said.

He would have told her to take this opportunity and seize adventure whenever she could. Spending the night—because they were all grown-ups here, and even though no one was saying it, they all knew that’s what they were talking about—in an overpriced hotel room with a seriously sexy man? That wasn’t something offered to someone like her every day, not even every five years. Who knew if the opportunity would ever come again? And what kind of giant chicken would she be if she walked away from this chance—especially when she wanted him as much as he seemed to want her?

“Fine. I’ll at least let him apologize in person.” She plucked the key from his fingers, pivoted direction, and headed toward the elevators, ready to give opportunity, adventure, and a night of steamy sex with a hot cop a shot.

…

Hot beads of water pounded down on Ford’s shoulders, taking away the tension that had been building there since the disastrous kiss with Gina. Gina. He liked the sound of her name. It rolled off his tongue like a mix between a groan and a wish—especially while his eyes were closed and his hand was wrapped around his cock, giving it a slow, tight stroke.

He hadn’t been lying downstairs. She may not be what anyone would call a beauty queen, but there was something about her, something tempting and challenging, that had caught his attention and made him wonder about…everything. Just how soft was her skin at the dip in her waist? Was her laugh low and dirty or a warm soprano? Would she moan when he unzipped that green dress that had clung to her every curve? What would make her call out his name?

What could he say, he was a cop down to his core.

Finding the answers to all of life’s questions turned him on—especially if they were about Gina. She made him so fucking curious. He slid his palm up and down his length, his other hand planted, fingers spread wide against the hard wall tile, and let the fantasy take him. One stroke. Two. Then the unmistakeable sound of his hotel room door opening caught him halfway down the shaft. His eyes snapped open as reality slammed into him.

Shit.

Kapowski.

The stakeout report.

Grateful that he’d mostly shut the bathroom door, so at least the patrolman snagged for the special detail wouldn’t get an eyeful of Ford jerking off, he turned in the shower right in time to see a flash of a green dress and wavy brown hair pass by the door. Then it was gone. Kapowski was blond and stuck to all black. So who in the hell… His fast-thickening dick figured it out quicker than his brain. Gina the wedding planner was in his room.

What was happening?

How did she get in?

Why was she here?

That’s when he heard a voice shouting in his head, Who fuckin’ cares? She’s here and she wouldn’t be if she didn’t want you.

Maybe refusing his drink offer had been because she was still on the clock and not because of him?

Stop asking yourself questions while your hand’s around your cock and talk to the woman in your hotel room, the voice yelled.

“I’m in the shower,” he called out, which was fucking brilliant repartee in its obviousness.

The lights in the bedroom clicked off right as she said, “I picked up on that.”