Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(17)

But where would that leave him tomorrow morning? Skulking away in the dark again?

When he didn’t answer right away, she glanced around and fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve then lowered her voice. “I know you’re leaving town, but I thought we could have some fun… while you were here.”

Well, that cleared up any confusion he had over where he stood with her. Just his luck the minute he convinced himself he was through playing loose with women that he’d meet one who wanted no strings. At least, not from him.

He’d never stepped completely over the line from casual to caring, but he’d scuffed it somewhere with CeCe, which meant getting dumped later on was going to feel like shit.

So why make being cut loose later any worse by spending more time together?

“I don’t think so,” he told her.

“Why not? I haven’t cooked a full meal since moving in and I’m not a half bad cook,” she joked, but her eyes were tinged with worry.

Jeremy paused as one of the personal trainers walked past chatting on a cell phone. Then he speared CeCe with a no-bullshit gaze. “Your brother coming by tonight?”

“No, he couldn’t make it back until tomorrow,” she said excitedly then stopped talking and cocked her head to one side. She frowned as if she didn’t understand why they were talking about her brother.

“I see.” Jeremy hesitated to say more with so many people walking around behind CeCe to access the equipment in this area.

Her mouth gaped open. “Is something wrong? I mean, I thought last night was, like…”

The vulnerable look in her eyes and her pleading tone stabbed him to the core.

“…really nice,” he finished for her. That was a lie.

Last night had been spectacular, had sucked him right in to thinking how much he’d like to wake up next to her every day.

She raked a hand over her hair, knocking the ponytail further askew, and hissed a sigh. “Then I don’t understand why you won’t have dinner with me tonight.”

Now she was hurt.

Jeremy knew better than to change his mind about seeing her again, alone, but this was not the place to pursue their discussion. He’d handle it tonight.

“In that case, I accept,” he finally conceded. “No reason we can’t have dinner… as friends.” No reason other than the idea of only being friends and not touching CeCe grated on him. After tonight they would just be neighbors. Not even that since he planned to put in for BAD to move his residence while he was gone. He checked his watch. “I won’t get out of here until after eight.”

“Friends, right,” she muttered. Her smile faltered a little then she offered a conciliatory smile. “Come over whenever you get in. Late is fine.” She turned to walk away.

Jeremy remembered something he had for her. “CeCe?”

“Yes?” She spun around, her gaze lit with interest that stroked a warm place inside him.

He cursed silently over how deep she had burrowed under his skin. In three weeks, she’d come to matter to him in spite of having spent most of that time in a platonic mode.

Last night had drawn him under her spell so far he would not walk away unscathed.

“Got a copy of today’s paper for you.” Jeremy reached over to where the newspaper lay next to his toolbox and lifted it. “Your picture is front page in the living section.”

Her eyes rounded, then she frowned. “You’re kidding.”

What was wrong? “No. It’s a nice shot of you. Nice write-up.” He lifted the folded papers and handed her the section he’d pulled out.

She took the paper. Her forehead creased in a deeper frown. She finally mumbled her thanks and hurried off.

What the hell was that all about?

Jeremy rubbed his forehead. Women. The man who figured them out would rule the world. All he had to do was figure out one female and what it would take to get her out of his system.



STARFACE PAUSED IN wiping the oil from the barrel of his Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum and used his little finger to press the button on his Bluetooth headset. “You find the woman in the newspaper?”

“No problem,” Dorvan answered, then chuckled. “Didn’t have to threaten the first chump. Receptionist at Double Take took one look at my phony detective badge and coughed up everything I needed. She showed me a picture of the statue from Sunday. That’s our girl.”

“Sweet.” Starface snapped the gun parts together. “Go get that memory card and meet me back here.” He’d paid a man to secretly film and videotape a meeting between an ambitious Chicago family and a Russian organization planning to partner up then wipe out all the midsize crime family competition in North America. That memory card was worth a small fortune to Ziggy Gambino. The Chicago family had tricked Ziggy’s people into a trap then tipped the feds to a major drug operation that cost the backbone of his organization. Ziggy had offered Starface a premium contract for evidence that would take down the Chicago leader. A sweet deal all around since Starface had been burned in the same sting.

Everything had fallen into place until Sam the Man interfered.

Starface had promised Ziggy delivery this week and Ziggy had no patience for hiccups.

Sam the Man had put his nuts in a vice by snatching the photo card. Sam paid the price for screwing with the wrong bastard.