Frisk Me(3)

What Luc was pretty sure his father actually meant was that Luc’s three older brothers were carrying on the family legacy. But Luc…Luc suspected that deep down, his father didn’t expect much out of Luc. Not since the Shayna Johnson case had gone to shit.

Luc’s brothers may push the envelope on respect for authority, but none of them had had their partner die on the job.

No, that horror was Luc’s private torture. Private, because nobody talked about it. Ever.

But at least the rest of the Moretti siblings were on a clear path toward securing the Moretti family name as NYPD royalty. Despite his brothers’ penchant for bending the rules, all had made a name for themselves as some of the city’s best.

Luc’s oldest brother, Anthony, was next in line for captain in his zone.

Vincent was one of the city’s best homicide DTs. The best, according to Vin. Modesty had never been his strong suit.

Marco had taken his fair share of crap for moving to California to follow his girlfriend, but he too was moving up the ranks of the LAPD at an obnoxious rate.

And then there was Luc. Luc was just lowly Officer Moretti. The one with a dead partner. The responding officer on the Shayna Johnson case.

Until now. Now Luc was that cop. The hero. The one who couldn’t get a cup of coffee without the barista doing a double take and writing her phone number on the paper cup of his Americano.

For most cops, the attention would have been flattering at best, a nuisance at worst.

But for Luc, it was pure torture.

Because only he really understood that Luc Moretti was as far from heroic as it was possible to get.





CHAPTER TWO



Back at the precinct, Luc didn’t even make it to his desk before Shitty Day, Part II, came roaring at him.

“Hey, Moretti, Cap wants to see you in his office,” Officer Kerry said, clamping Luc on the shoulder. Luc set aside the coffee mug he’d been about to fill.

“You tell Lopez?” Luc called after him.

Kerry turned around and shrugged as he walked backward. “Cap said just you.”

“Shit,” Luc muttered.

Captain Brinker was a power-tripping prick, prone to sanctimonious lectures and unwarranted pep talks.

Luc, in particular, was a frequent victim of these little chats.

Brinker had gotten it into his head that Luc and his brothers were only in “the business” because their daddy had paved the way.

Never mind that the Moretti brothers had been top of their class at Academy and had flawless records.

Well, flawless if you discounted Anthony’s ego problems and Vincent’s penchant for going off-book.

But Luc? Luc had always played it straight.

It was an approach that worked 99 percent of the time. And as for that 1 percent of the time when going by the book could turn deadly…

Luc rapped a knuckle on the door of Brinker’s office. “You wanted to see me, Cap?”

Brinker gave a jerk of his chin, gesturing for Luc to come in.

“How was Times Square?” his boss asked.

Total bullshit, Luc wanted to say. Instead he shrugged. “The same as usual.”

Brinker gave him a dark look as though looking for sarcasm or something to reprimand Luc for, but Luc gave him a deliberately bland smile.

“You wanted to see me?” Luc asked again.

Brinker nodded once and gave a pointed look toward the back of his office, and Luc shifted his gaze, surprised to realize they weren’t alone.

A woman stood in the back corner of the room, helping herself to coffee from the fancy coffee machine Brinker kept for his own personal use.

Her body was mostly hidden by one of the horrible potted plants that Brinker’s wife insisted gave his office “homey character.”

And then she stepped into plain view.

He couldn’t help it; he checked her out. Everything about the woman demanded a second look, the legs in particular.

Luc had never really considered himself a legs-man, being more of an “equal opportunity” guy when it came to female body parts. (Although, if his mother ever asked, he’d swear up and down that he only ever noticed personality. Maybe the eyes.) But the legs on this one were damn near perfect. For that matter, the high breasts and slim waist also earned high marks.

Her subdued black skirt and white blouse should have been boring, but they’d obviously been tailored to fit her trim frame perfectly.

Plus, the black high heels added an element of sexy to the otherwise demure attire.

Then he looked at her face, and for a second, Luc felt just a little bit dazed.

If anything, her features were even more appealing than the body. Her eyes were maybe just slightly too large for her otherwise petite features, but there was no doubt about it, the woman was stunning.

And yet, there was something else there too, just beyond the jolt of sexual awareness.

Recognition.

Luc might not have his brother Vincent’s photographic memory, but he was pretty damn good with faces. And he was pretty sure he knew this one. His brain scrambled to place her, but he kept coming up blank.

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly on Luc, and his narrowed right back. He definitely knew her from somewhere.

She came forward and shook his hand. “Fifth and Fortieth, three years ago.”

He shook his head to indicate he didn’t follow.