Remy couldn’t answer the question. He was standing there with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, staring, so he tore his gaze away from Triana’s display of sexy brown skin and attempted to focus on the TV.
In a way, he kind of felt sorry for the people responsible for predicting where Ophelia was heading. As far as Remy could tell, this storm wasn’t following the rules. It was still wandering aimlessly in a westerly direction, but mostly it seemed to be stuck. The only thing the weather experts could say for sure was that the storm was getting stronger. Other than that, they were baffled.
The hell with the frigging weather. Remy had to get to work, storm or no storm. Going into the bathroom, he rinsed the toothpaste out of his mouth and shoved the electric razor around his jaw for a bit before heading back to the bedroom so he could rummage through the dresser for underwear and socks. Since it happened to be the same dresser he and Triana had made love on last night, it was difficult to think about something as mundane as socks, but he forced himself to focus before he got too hard to put on his damn underwear.
Triana didn’t make it any easier, choosing that particular moment to stretch, rolling around on the bed and arching her back like a kitty.
Stifling a groan, he turned his back on her, then dragged a pair of uniform cargos out of the closet and pulled them on. At least they were looser in the crotch than the jeans he’d had on last night. He pulled on the standard, dark-blue DPD SWAT T-shirt, then his socks and boots.
His car keys were in the room safe, but it took a while to find his wallet and room key card, which were on the floor by the front door. How the hell had that happened?
He patted the front right pocket of his cargos, realizing he was missing something. Frowning, he went in search of the jeans he’d been wearing the night before. Where the hell had he kicked them?
Triana laughed as he got down on his hands and knees and pulled them out from under the bed. Getting to his feet, he dug through the pockets and immediately found what he was after—a small, tan bag made out of chamois material and tied with a complicated knot at the top. A series of runes and letters were inscribed on one side of the bag. Well, they used to be. Now the marks were mostly faded.
“I can’t believe you’re still carrying the gris-gris bag my mom gave you,” Triana said, coming up on her knees and leaning forward to peek at it.
Remy slipped the good luck charm in the right pocket of his uniform pants. “I never go anywhere without it.”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve been carrying it every day since Mom gave it to you the day we graduated high school?”
He hesitated, almost telling her there had been a three-year period when he’d been in the Marshals that he’d gotten out of the habit. But that was too long of a story to get into—and too depressing. So he fibbed a little.
“Pretty much. Yeah.”
Triana eyed him skeptically. “You don’t believe in all this voodoo magic stuff, do you? You’re a cop. You know better than anyone that there’s no magic out there. There’s just good guys, bad guys, and science.”
He chuckled. Triana had always been into the science behind everything. If she couldn’t see it or prove it with an experiment, she wasn’t much for it. She’d always humored her mother about the stuff Gemma sold at the shop, but she’d never bought into it.
He shrugged, wondering what she’d do if she figured out he was a werewolf. Probably draw blood and look for a cure. “Don’t be so sure of that. Take it from me, the world is a lot stranger than you might think. The moment you’re sure you’ve seen it all, you run into someone who will prove you wrong.”
Remy expected her to laugh, but instead, she looked thoughtful. “Funny you should say that, considering the guy who showed up in the shop yesterday.”
“What guy?” he asked, checking his duffel bag to make sure he had all his tactical gear as well as another uniform to change into if he needed it.
Triana sat back on her heels with a sigh. “Same whack job lawyer looking for the necklace with the wolf head my father used to wear all the time. Apparently he represents some rich guy who wants to remain anonymous and offered my mom five thousand dollars for the thing.”
“Whoa.”
Remy remembered the necklace Triana was talking about, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t worth anywhere near that kind of money.
“Yeah, no kidding.” Triana gracefully climbed out of bed and padded over to him. “The funny thing is, Mom claimed she didn’t know what necklace the guy was talking about.”
“You think your mom has the necklace and just doesn’t want to sell it?” he asked, trying to distract himself from the fact that Triana was still gloriously naked.
She shrugged, which did rather amazing things to her perfect breasts. “Maybe.”
“Is that so surprising? I mean, it was your father’s. I imagine it’s probably important to your mother for obvious sentimental reasons.”
Triana nodded. “Oh, I get that part. Hell, even if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t want her selling to the guy, because he came off as an arrogant prick. No, the part that struck me as strange was why someone is willing to spend that much money on a necklace, not to mention send a smarmy lawyer to be his mouthpiece.”
Remy opened his mouth to reply, but Triana chose that moment to stand up on her tiptoes, wrap her arms around his neck, and kiss him. He’d already been aroused simply from being near her sexy, naked body, but the moment her lips touched his and he got a taste of her, he went from semi-erect to hard as a crowbar. He put his arms around her, fitting her more tightly against him. Damn, she was a walking, talking aphrodisiac.
“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asked, smiling up at him. “More training?”
What she was really asking was whether he’d be going out on any more drug raids. Remy knew he probably should have been honest and told Triana that was always a possibility, but he couldn’t do that to her. She was obviously relaxed and happy after last night and there was no reason to bum her out.
“Yeah,” he said casually. “We ran the training yesterday, so today the local guys are up. I think they plan on demonstrating some new room-clearing techniques based on a three-person team.”
