Chapter 2
Samantha Sutcliff
My husband is using his X-men rambling power? At me? What the fuck?
Grumbling, I squish into my pants and force a stretchy top over my head. I should go shopping but I’m not ready to admit my baby weight is here to stay. A little more time and I’m sure I can take it off. Sucking in my abs, I zip my fly, and fasten the button.
As a teen, this look was all the rage. However, ass and boobs do not shout professional. So, as a second thought, I cover my holster with a black blazer. Then, I kick off my sneakers and select low black heels.
With help from the full-length mirror in my bedroom, I twist my hair into a bun, don a wide brimmed hat, and tilt it over one eye.
Sexy Sam Sutcliff, Private Investigator, at your service.“C’mon Mikey. Let’s go visit your Uncle Joey.”
My son lifts his butt off the floor, shoots me a baby-toothed grin, and toddles down the hallway. Dancing to his own tune, he waits while I pull on the rope lifting the stairs. When they appear, he monkeys down while I keep my hands out, ready to catch him if he falls.
We cross Rose and Mia’s apartment, reach another set of steps, and at the bottom, I shout out to Joey, “Yo, can you watch Mikey for a couple?”
My cousin comes into his kitchen and wolf whistles. “Does your husband know youz walkin’ around like dat?”
We both got impressionable kids and are responsible adults so as I shoot him my middle finger, I cup it so only he can see.
Laughing, he points to the white board where he logs my babysitting time versus his. “Pretty soon, you’ll owe me a full week.”
“Not my fault you sit around on your ’assachusetts all day.” I congratulate myself for not swearing in front of the children.
“Hey, if you gave me more work, I’d gladly do some.”
“Ma dude, I don’t control the number of cheating spouses in Brooklyn.”
“Tell you what. I’ll do youz guyz a favor. I’ll hit on a few of the prettier women in the neighborhood, Suds and Sam gets more clients, and you give me the job of finding Don Quixote.”
Picturing the ideological Man of La Mancha the Seducer of Seville, I snicker. “You mean Don Juan?”
“Whatever.”
“Bye, Joey.” Rolling my eyes, I drop Mikey in the highchair, and head out.
Walking a few blocks, I arrive at our old loft which is now our office and a flop house for visiting friends.
I wave at the barista next door, climb the steep stairs, and confront Suds, waiting in the foyer. Before I can give him hell for rambling at me, he heats me with his gaze.
“Babe.” His look reminds me of those he gave me BC,before child.
Without warning, he presses me against the wall and kisses the breath out of me. As his cock thickens, he thrusts his tongue in and out of my mouth while I writhe against him. Coming up for air, the black centers of his eyes almost cover the brown.
Strong forearms on either side of my head, he teases my lips. “Damn, girl. If my ramblin’ makes you dress like this, I’ll have to do it more often.”
“You do, and sex is off the table. I mean it.” I push at his rock-hard abs, and he doesn’t budge.
“No problem, Sugar. There’re plenty other flat surfaces to choose from or we can do it standing up. We probably should wait until we don’t have a client in our office.” His warm chuckle melts all the mad out of me. Besides, who can stay pissed off with damp undies and a swollen clit?
Sighing deeply, I bite his lower lip. “We will deal with this later. Care to tell me what’s really going on?”
He steps back, pulls a check out of his back pocket, and unfolds it. When he holds it in front of my nose, I whistle through my teeth.
“Holy fuck-ola. That’s a lot of zeros. What does she expect you to do? Kill someone?”
“Good question. At first, she only wanted me to locate her missing daughter and I agreed. After the shooting, she asked me to be her bodyguard.” My husband frowns, a rare thing, which worries me more than anything else he has said so far.
