His face twisted and he hissed, “Fuck you, Mara.”

But I shook my head.

“You’re saying f**k me but what you’re doing, you’re f**king Billy and Billie. What you do to me affects your children. So, Bill Winchell, you just proved you are what everyone back home thought you were. You’re an assclown with shit for brains who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. And you have to live with that too.”

He opened his mouth to speak but I didn’t hear what he had to say.

I put the phone back in its cradle, pushed my chair back and didn’t look at him as I turned to Mitch. I caught his hand, his long, strong fingers curled tight and warm around mine and I didn’t look back as we walked out.

We were out of the room and walking down the hall when Mitch muttered, “I’ll call the attorney.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

His fingers squeezed mine. “You all right?”

“Yes,” I answered.

His fingers squeezed mine again but his hand also tugged as he brought us to a stop.

I looked up at him.

“Sure?” he asked softly.

“The only thing I have to worry about is paying the attorney. I spent a lot of years saving for a rainy day.” I gave him a small smile. “So, it’s raining. Whatever. The rain always stops.”

Mitch’s eyes moved over my face. Then he smiled back. Then he lifted his other hand, curled it around the side of my neck and pulled me in and up.

Then he kissed me, fast, hard but closed-mouthed.

Then he whispered against my lips, “Get to work, sweetheart.”

I grinned against his.

Then I moved away, Mitch walked me to my car and I got to work.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Operation Drunk Sex Later

Two weeks, two days later…

“I’m back, baby!” Mitch called from my living room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining room.

He’d taken the kids to spend the night at Penny’s not so we could have a night out, so I could go out with the girls and he could go to work. He had something happening with a case he was working on and he was doing overtime. I had a new little black dress and new sexy, strappy, high-heeled black sandals and I was meeting “the girls” (“the girls” being Roberta, LaTanya, Elvira, Tess and Elvira’s friends Gwen, Cam and Tracy) for drinks at Club.

The little black dress and sexy new shoes I was currently wearing were purchased because we were in throes of Pierson’s Mattress and Bed’s annual summer madness sale and apparently half of Denver needed a mattress and/or bed. I was run off my feet but my commissions were killer.

Of course, I wanted to bank them to pay attorneys fees but, with Mitch’s overtime on this big case and seeing as he clearly absorbed Elvira’s lesson about little black dresses, he encouraged me to go shopping with her (which I did) and spoil myself (which meant spoiling him).

So now I was wearing my first ever LBD. It was sleeveless. It was black jersey. It was shorter than any dress I’d ever worn. It had no back (at all). It was clingy in a lot of places and tight in all the others.

And the shoes even turned me on they were so hot.

I’d added heavy makeup (something I never did but it looked pretty good even if I did say so myself). I’d also added lots of hair (something else I never did but ditto with it looking good).

And now I was good to go.

And good to go meant Mitch driving me to Club. I had to work that day but the girls had met for dinner at Club and I was meeting them there. I ate a quick turkey sandwich when I got home. Mitch took the kids to Penny’s, was going to take me to Club before he went to do his thing and then I was going to text him when it was time to come home. If he could get me (and LaTanya), he would. If he couldn’t, Elvira promised that Hawk, who was showing to get Gwen and Elvira and anyone else who needed a ride, would give me a ride.

My night was all planned and effortless for me. All I had to do was get glamorous, show up and suck back cocktails.

After a day of selling mattresses, that was all I had in me.

Incidentally, I was not worried about meeting three women who were curious about me. Yes, this was how far beyond my classification system I was. Three months ago, sitting down with three women who would be judging if I was good enough for Detective Mitch Lawson would have sent me over the edge.

Now?

Whatever.

If they didn’t like me, I didn’t have it in me to care.

Mitch liked me. That was all that mattered.

I turned from the mirror in the bathroom, hit the light and called back to Mitch, “I’m ready to go if you are!”

I went to my bed, grabbed my little black purse, turned out the lamp I had on by the bed and sashayed on my four inch heels out the door. I moved down the hall and saw Mitch at my bar, eyes down, he was flipping through a file on the bar but as I moved out of the mouth of the hall, his eyes came to me.

“Do you want to leave now?” I asked, continuing toward him. “LaTanya texted me. They’re there already so…”

I trailed off because the look on his face finally registered in me.

Yes.

In me.

In fact, it registered in me, through me, on me and all over me.

I stopped dead.

When I did, Mitch immediately moved and he did this toward me, his eyes on my dress.

“Mitch –” I started.

“I don’t wanna leave now.”

Oh boy.

“Mitch,” I whispered and started moving back because he was nearly on me and he wasn’t stopping.

When I started moving back, he kept moving forward so I kept walking backwards.

“Jesus, baby, knew your legs were long but…fuck.” His eyes were now on my legs and his voice was hot, low, growly and intense. I felt hot just listening to it.

Oh boy!

“Mitch, you have to catch bad guys,” I reminded him as I moved backwards through the shadows of the hall and he kept after me.

He shifted swiftly in a way that I had no choice but to shift with him and this meant we moved through the door to my bedroom.

“Mitch!” I cried, putting my hands to his chest. “Bad guys?” I reminded him.

His hands curled around my hips. “They’ll still be bad guys after I f**k you.”

Oh boy!

“Mitch.” I was back to whispering.

Mitch’s fingers curled into my tight, stretchy skirt and yanked it up to my waist.

Admittedly, that skirt was so short, it didn’t have far to go.

Still, this was hot.

I dropped my bag and my fingers curled into his shirt to hold on seeing as my legs had gone weak.