Serving Up Trouble Read online



  “Bad timing, huh?”

  “You could say so. But the roommate has, curiously enough, not come back as promised.”

  “Well, just to make it interesting, we’ve got another development. A note on Angie’s door.”

  “Saying?”

  “Back off or die.”

  “Hmm. Not so light weight anymore, is it?”

  “No.” Sam’s gut clenched. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He clicked the phone shut.

  “I haven’t seen the suspect in a few days,” Angie said behind him. “I don’t know why he’d bother with me.”

  “Because you seem to be the only one who can point him out.”

  “I’m staying here tonight, Sam.”

  Sam pocketed his phone and faced her. “I’m not leaving you alone. Don’t ask me to.”

  “I’m not asking, I’m telling.”

  He stared her down, and after a long moment, she let out a long sigh. “You know, I really want to tell you to go to hell.”

  “Tell me whatever you want. I’m still not leaving you alone.”

  “I don’t follow demands or take orders from anyone, Sam. But…”

  “But…?”

  She turned away. “Fine. I don’t want to be alone either, okay? I don’t want to be alone bad enough that I’ll go with you. Just do me a favor and stay out of my way while I get my bag.”

  Angie came back into her living room a few moments later with a backpack on her shoulder. She stopped a breath away from Sam and tipped her head back to look at him. “I packed.”

  “Okay.”

  “And while I did, I did some thinking.”

  Uh-oh. “Okay.”

  A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she dropped her backpack to the floor and put her hands on her hips. Though she barely came to his chin, she managed to look down her nose at him. “You’re furious, tense and worried. And now, you’re surprised,” she added. “Did you really think I can’t see what’s going on in your head by now?”

  “Not many can,” he muttered.

  “Well, that alone should tell you some thing. But because you are furious, tense and worried, it tells me you care about me. Enough to want me with you.”

  “I want you safe.”

  “If that was the case, you’d send me to a friend’s. To my parents. But you want me with you. Why can’t you just say it?”

  “Are you always this bossy?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, it’s a new thing for me.” She smiled now, and it was a stunner. “And I like it. You know what else? I like you. I’m not sure why, but I like you. Okay, we can go now.”

  He took her pack, shouldered it. As she moved ahead of him, he found his hand at the small of her back. Not for her, but for him, because damn if he didn’t want his hand on her.

  At the touch, Angie craned her neck and smiled. One of those just-for-him smiles that did some thing ridiculous to his stomach.

  With a scowl, he dropped his hand.

  She simply reached for it, held it in her own. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered as they went out her front door.

  She was glad. Great. She was glad and he felt like he’d been tied in knots, and every time she looked at him, smiled at him, the strings tightened inside, drawing him further in, making him care all the more. All professional detachment was gone, and he knew it. No amount of not touching, no amount of being as gruff as possible was going to change anything.

  Outside he told the cop in his squad car that he was taking Angie, but to watch the house.

  “You should know,” he said to Angie, “you’re done risking your pretty neck.” He opened his passenger door for her.

  “What?”

  He stopped, framing her in between the truck door and his body, and though not a single inch of him touched her in any way, his entire frame quivered with aware ness. “You’re done going to night classes alone. Done coming home alone. Done trying to solve my case. Done with everything until this is over. Do you understand?”

  She let out a little laugh, but when he didn’t smile, hers faded. “You’re not kidding.”

  “Nope.” He shut the door, knowing he sounded like an ass but still so worked up and scared to death he didn’t care. He walked around and slid in behind the wheel, feeling the weight of her stare. Sighing, preparing to be blasted by her anger, he looked over. “What?”

  “You think my neck is pretty.”

  That was so far from what he expected her to say, he could only stare at her.

  “And there’s some thing else.” She reached over to put her hand on his. “About me not doing stuff…you’re talking from fear. I get that. I really do. But I can’t give in here, Sam. I just can’t. All I’ve ever wanted is a chance to fly. To be encouraged, to be loved for who and what I am.”

  His stomach landed on his feet with all this…mushy talk. “This isn’t about anything other than your safety.”

  “It’s about us.”

  She was right. God, she was right.

  “Can you do it, Sam? Can you take me seriously that way?”

  “What does that have to do with keeping you out of trouble?” he asked a bit desperately.

  “I think you know what’s going to happen if we’re not careful. Alone together in your house.”

  “We’re not a couple of horny kids.”

  “No, we’re not. You’re a passionate man. Intelligent, too. And in credibly sexy, Sam. Probably the most sexy man I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re not helping here, Angie.”

  “I’m about to. Because not even for you can I go back to my simple, complacent life.” Her voice was terribly quiet, and drove right through his heart. “I agreed to your protection tonight, but—”

  “No buts.”

  “But,” she continued patiently, “I won’t curb my new appetite for life. I hope you understand, I really do.”

  “It’s just one night,” he said desperately.

  She looked directly at him, his greatest nightmare, his greatest fantasy, all wrapped in one beautiful package. “It’s more,” she insisted.

  Sam’s heart pretty much skipped a beat. “We’re not sleeping together.”

  “Because you’re scared.”

  “Because you can’t separate love and sex.”

  “Can you?”

  Her cell phone rang then, startling them both. She went to answer it, but Sam grabbed her wrist, turned it, so he could look at the readout.

  “My mom,” she told him.

  Sagging back, he gestured for her to go ahead. While she talked, he drove. And tried not to think.

  He might as well try not to breathe. His brain whirled. She wanted him. She was going to be sleeping at his house. He wanted her.

  Ah, hell. Not good.

  “Yes, school is great,” Angie said into the phone, then let out a slow, pent-up breath. “No, Mom, I’m still not going to medical school…not to law school, either. We’ve been through all this. This is for me—Yes. Yes, I know Tony said he could get me work at the district attorney’s office, but that was a long time ago and I don’t want to work there, I want—Mom.” She sighed. “Mom—oops, hear that? Bad connection, gotta go. Love you, bye.”

  She tossed the phone into her purse, leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

  Sam divided his gaze between the road and her face. She looked tired. Alone. And in spite of himself, he ached for her.

  He waited until he’d parked outside his condo complex and turned off the engine. The street was deserted. The windows around them had started to fog, reducing his world to just the two of them. “Angie…”

  “Let me guess,” she said with her eyes still closed. “One of us is still sleeping on the couch.”

  “It’s for the best.” Liar, liar. “You should know, Angie…I don’t do love.”

  Now she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Why not?”

  “Because…I just don’t.”

  “Because you’re a big, bad, tough cop?”