Frisk Me(20)

Ava stuck her tongue in her cheek to hide her smirk. This should be good.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m on duty,” he said, gesturing down at his gun.

The girl all but salivated and pressed on. “Oh, I know. I was thinking whenever you got off. Or another day, if that would be better.”

Luc’s smile never wavered, but Ava was surprised to see that the polite grin seemed almost pasted on his face, as though he’d rather be anywhere else. Which didn’t make sense. The guy was gorgeous.

“Actually, I’m sort of seeing someone.”

He was?

Luc’s announcement caused more of a tug than it should, but when she looked at him more closely, she noticed the way he wouldn’t meet the girl’s eye.

Officer Moretti was lying. And from the guilty look on his face, he didn’t lie easily.

Ava all but shook her head. As far as excuses went, it was merely okay. Not a good enough explanation for a girl who looked like a lingerie model and had confidence radiating off her in waves. Girls like this one would take I’m seeing someone as more of a challenge than a rejection.

“Lucky lady,” the brunette said, wiggling closer to Luc. “But look, if it doesn’t work out between you two, I can give you my—”

“Hear that, sweetie? At least someone thinks you’re a lucky lady.”

It took Ava several seconds to realize that Luc was talking to her.

Oh no. No freaking way…

But he merely grinned, reaching out a hand and pulling her closer. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but there was something in his gaze—desperation, maybe?—that had her hesitating. Ava let herself be pulled to his side, even sliding her arm around his waist, but the pinch she delivered to his side said he’d pay for the lie later. At least she tried to pinch. The man had, like, zero body fat.

The way their bodies pressed together caused a shiver of awareness to come over Ava. A shiver she ignored.

At least until he slid his hand over the small of her back, down over her waist until his fingers splayed over her hip as though they belonged there. And damn it, it felt like they did belong there.

Like she belonged here. With him.

Oh, this was so not good.

“Oh my god,” the girl said, her hand flattening against her chest. To her credit, she looked genuinely dismayed. “I’m so sorry. When I saw you guys standing here I thought you were arguing—”

“We were,” Ava said.

“Foreplay,” Luc interrupted huskily, as his gaze raked down Ava’s body. “It really revs her motors.”

“Revs my motors?” Ava asked, pushing against him in annoyance. Because annoyance was safer than arousal. “Are you kidding me right now with the woman-as-car metaphors?”

“You like it,” he said, looping his arm casually around her neck while giving the girl a boyish grin.

“You know what else I’d like?” Ava hissed. “If you took your police baton, or whatever it’s called, and shoved it up your—”

His mouth was on her before she could finish the sentence.

It was a quick kiss.

Just a hard stamp of shut-the-hell-up. There was no tongue, just the press of his mouth against hers, lingering only slightly, but the kiss rocked Ava all the same.

Luc, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected, and as soon as his mouth left hers, his eyes sought his admirer who was already walking away.

With a look of relief, he released Ava, who was still feeling a little unsteady from the feel of his lips on hers, however meaningless and quick it had been.

“What the hell was that?” she asked to his retreating back since he was already walking away.

He stopped and turned back. “What was that?” He turned around, but didn’t stop moving as he walked backward. “That, Sims, was a test.”

She started after him. “Yeah? What did it prove?”

“That I like your mouth a hell of a lot better when it’s not yapping. Now, you coming or what?”

Ava glared at his retreating back.

Yup, it was official. America’s Hero was a total ass.

But the man could kiss.





CHAPTER EIGHT



Luc had become a creature of habit.

Which shocked the hell out of him, because as a kid, he’d been all over the place. As a teen, he’d stopped just shy of being unmanageable.

But as an adult?

He was like clockwork.

Not because he was the uptight, rigid type. He wasn’t. But when your career was such that an average week involved transitions between life-threatening situations one day and mind-numbing boredom, it helped to fill everything in between with routine.

Coffee at the same place.

Grilled cheese from the same food cart every Friday.

Somehow, this structured lifestyle had seeped into Luc’s days off as well, because it was no longer a conscious decision to head to his favorite hole-in-the-wall diner for a late breakfast when he was off duty. It was simply what he did.

Luc had never been one of those introverted, solitary types. He loved filling most of his spare time with friends, family…women.

But these morning breakfasts?

These mornings were Luc’s time. To reflect. Think. Try to forget.

Which was why on a sunny spring Saturday, nearly a week after the indecent exposure incident at Chelsea Pier, Luc’s feet suddenly seemed incapable of moving when he walked into the Darby Diner and saw her.