Staking His Claim (Line of Duty #5)(33)

“Lucy.”

His deep voice shivered its way through her. She could see herself reflected in his sunglasses, and her tiny likeness projected against his imposing figure made her dizzy. This man had brought her to the brink of insanity yesterday. How could he look so cool now? “How do you keep finding me?”

He glanced away. “You left your bucket list in my car.”

Oh. “And that means you have to keep showing up?”

She had a feeling he was glowering at her behind those dark sunglasses. “If you would just tell Brent your friend canceled on you, that you’re alone in the city all week, you wouldn’t have to do everything on the list by yourself.”

“Why haven’t you told him?” When he didn’t answer, she stood up and stepped into his personal space, looked up at him with all the seductiveness she could muster on short notice. “Maybe you like finding me alone, Chuckles?”

His jaw flexed, but still he said nothing.

Lucy sighed and stepped back. “He’s all content in his domestic bliss. I didn’t come here to throw a wrench into his engine, I came to help it run smoother.”

Matt considered her for a long moment. “How do you plan to do that?”

“By getting a job, easing the pressure. Leaving him alone,” she added under her breath.

He surprised her by laying a hand on her arm. “You really think you’re doing him a favor, don’t you?” When she simply looked at him, he shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” She glanced away. “You knew nothing about me the day we met. Nothing except what a shitload of trouble I am. A nuisance.”

Matt’s hand flew to her chin, tipping her face up. “If I ever hear of you calling yourself that again, I’m going to find you wherever you are and make you sorry.”

Being this close to him, hearing the steel in his voice, tied her in knots. If given the opportunity, she might never get used to it. “Is that a promise?”

“That’s a promise.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “Anyway, you might be half a shitload of trouble, but definitely not a full one. Unless there is a trapeze involved.”

“Think so?” She grinned. “I’m about to shoot that opinion to hell.”

A whistle blew in the distance, telling her the event would begin in thirty seconds. She needed to warn Matt. He was already distracted, looking around them with a puzzled look on his face. Lucy turned to find that a huge crowd had gathered, all smiling in anticipation. “What is this, anyway? Your itinerary just said ‘FM, Union Square.’”

Lucy bit her lip. “FM stands for flash mob.”

“Jesus.”

No sooner had the word left his mouth than a giant water balloon hit him square in the shoulder. Mouth open in shock, he looked at the wet spot on his uniform shirt, then down at Lucy. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in her throat. She clapped both hands over her mouth to keep it contained. “Oh, God. I think your uniform makes you a target.”

The throngs of people behind her erupted in a series of battle cries as water balloons began flying, exploding on people and the pavement around them. Unsuspecting tourists scattered in every direction, some braver ones stopping to take pictures on their cell phone. She’d been right, though. Several participants were pointing at them, probably dying to get a shot at a member of law enforcement. She turned back to find Matt shaking his head.

“You better get out of here, Officer.”

A water balloon narrowly missed his head. “Screw that. Where’s your ammo?”

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up, but she indicated the tote bag full of water balloons.

Matt reached down and grabbed the bag, taking her hand in the other. With a squeak of surprise, Lucy tripped behind him as he jogged to the nearest bench and pulled her down behind it. After yesterday, the last thing she’d expected to see was a playful side. Yet another facet of him, as if there weren’t enough already. He set the bag between them, reached in and handed her a water balloon. “Let’s see what you got, Mason.”

A smile stretched across her face. “One point for every hipster you hit. Two for tourists.”

His mouth twitched. “Done.”

She peeked over the bench and hurled a pink balloon at a girl in horn-rimmed glasses. The unexpected impact of Lucy’s balloon knocked them askew on her face.

“Nice one.”

“One point for me.” She tossed him a yellow balloon. “Your turn.”

“Give me another one.” With a shrug, she did as he asked. He pushed his sunglasses back on his head and Lucy suddenly wished she could drag her fingers through his thick black hair. In one fluid movement, he went up on his knees, throwing both balloons at once. Two running tourists were treated to an exploding water balloon attack.

“Impressive.” Unable to wipe the grin off her face, she rooted through the bag. “It’s like you’re a professional sniper or something.”

Matt’s hand flexed, as if talking about his profession put the feel of a rifle in his hand. “Are you implying I have an unfair advantage?”

“I’m not implying. I’m accusing.” She pulled out three balloons and threw him a wink. “Which means I have to step up my game.”

His hot gaze raked over her. “You think you can compete with me?”