Cuff Me(74)

And now that the ring was off her finger—

Well let’s just say it was even harder to concentrate on the job when half the time he wanted nothing more than to toss her in the backseat and screw like teenagers.

He blew out a breath as he faced the truth looming in the back of his mind.

What if Lenora Birch’s killer was going to go free because Vincent had spent the past two months thinking with his dick instead of his brain?

“Uh-oh,” Jill said, pushing her plate away and crossing both arms on the table. “I know that look. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“No, we don’t get to do nothing,” she said. “Not as partners, not as lovers.”

He glanced around. “Jesus, keep your voice down.”

She lifted her eyebrow. “First of all, there are only six customers in here right now. None are in hearing range. Second of all, why so jumpy?”

He pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Are you done?”

“No, I want more iced tea.”

“We don’t have time for Joyce to get back from her smoke break.”

“Really?” Jill crossed her arms. “We don’t have time? Where exactly are we running off to? Last I checked, we don’t have a case—”

“Because we f*cked up,” he said, standing and heading toward the door.

Jill caught up with him when they were outside, grabbing his arm and pulling him around. “Why do I feel like that was a loaded statement?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “We lost this case, Jill—we let a killer go free because we couldn’t find the clues.”

“It happens, Vin. I don’t like it any more than you do. I’m beating myself up too, but it had to happen to us sooner or later—”

“And isn’t it interesting that we got dropped from the case the very week we started screwing.”

His words were harsh. He didn’t mean them to be, they just slipped out.

She said nothing, and he reached out a hand, relieved when she didn’t step back.

If anything she looked… amused?

Jill’s lips twitched a little as she took a step closer. “Is that what this is about? You’re actually doing that cliché guy thing where you think your brain didn’t solve the case because it was sex-addled?”

“Maybe,” he muttered.

Jill smiled softly, her fingers briefly touching the tips of his before he let his hand drop. Before someone saw them.

“It’s not like that, Vin. Whatever was going on with us didn’t change the fact that the killer hasn’t left us a single clue.”

“Or we missed something,” he said as they walked to the car and climbed in.

“Or that,” she said. “But we have to let it go. Not only for our sanity, but because it’s an order. Another case will come up tomorrow, or the next, and—”

Both of their phones buzzed just as the police radio crackled.

Five minutes later, Jill and Vincent looked at each other and grinned.

“Well, whadya know, Henley—looks like we just got ourselves another case.”

She clicked her seat belt into the buckle. “We do indeed. Maybe your famous instinct will actually work on this one.”

“Maybe. Assuming I’m not distracted by a cute blonde with a mouth like a—”

Jill turned her head and gave him a look.

“Lady,” he finished. “A mouth like a lady.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hell if I know,” he muttered as he turned the ignition. “But it’s better than what I was going to say.”

But Jill wasn’t listening. Her phone was already up to her ear as she called in to their superiors to tell them they were on their way.

Five minutes later, they were pulling up to the curb of a mid-rise apartment building in Spanish Harlem. Jill jumped out of the car, notebook already in hand.

Vin paused a moment, taking in the swarm of cops, the yellow tape—the curious onlookers, the just-now-arriving media.

And then there was Jill.

His eyes sought and found his partner. She was wearing a simple black suit, her hair pulled back in its usual ponytail.

She’d already scooted under the caution tape, deep in conversation with one of the uniforms. Her pen was moving across the page of her notebook as she nodded along to whatever the officer was telling her.

Then she flipped her notebook shut and glanced around until she saw him. Their eyes met, and she held out her hands in a what’s the holdup, get your ass over here, Moretti kind of way.

Vincent couldn’t help it. He smiled.

Yes, there was a dead body inside that building, yes, he’d just had his first unsolved murder go on record, but right now, those didn’t seem to matter as much as the woman in front of him did.

Jill was his.

The only question was…

For how long?

How long until she realized that he needed her light a hell of a lot more than she needed his darkness?

“Dude, Moretti. Get a move on it,” she called. “Even you can’t solve a case by standing in the street.”

Instinct told him he didn’t have much time with her.

And since his instincts were never wrong, he fully intended to make the most of the time he did have.