Because sex with Detective Easton was not gonna happen.No fuckin’ way.
Screwing her did not count as helping her. Not that he wouldn’t ensure the lady a good time, but she had trusted him at his club. The easiest way to burn that trust was to bed her. That kiss should never have happened. No way in hell would he tempt fate and do it again. Because if he kissed her, he sure as hell wasn’t stopping there.
Shoving down his agitation, he held open the restaurant door. Arm in arm, the two friends breezed past him. Up until an hour ago, he had no idea Danielle knew Emerson, let alone was her best friend. And here he thought he knew his employees.
The valet pulled Stryker’s car up. He opened the back door of his Mercedes and Danielle slid in. “Oooh, this is soooo nice. Me likey.”
As he opened the door for Emerson, he murmured, “She’s quite chatty after a few drinks.”
“She’s a very happy drunk.”
“What about you?” he asked her.
“Three glasses of wine and I feel no pain. Dinner was excellent, by the way.”
“Yuppers,” Danielle said from the back seat. “I loved the chicken.”
“You had pasta, Danny.”
Danielle snickered. “Right, Emmy, you had the chicken. They were both eggselent.”
“Danielle, what’s your address?” Stryker asked.
Danielle rattled it off from the back seat. “Who was that man with you?”
“Which one?”
“The cute one.” Danielle snort-laughed. “Dark blond hair.”
“Cooper Grant,” Stryker replied. “Wanna meet him?”
Danielle hiccupped. “Excuse me. Nope, no in…innerduction.” She paused. “That’s not a word.”
As Stryker headed toward Danielle’s, he glanced over at Emerson. She looked stunning. But she always did. He wanted to lay his hand on her thigh and wrap his fingers around her leg. He wanted to run his fingers through her long hair, then kiss her neck, her chin, working his way up to her beautiful mouth.
He hoped they solved the case soon. Working with her was an exercise in frustration. He pulled up to Danielle’s, cut the engine, and walked the women to the door.
“I’ll wait here,” Stryker said.
“’S okay.” Danielle hiccupped. “You can come in. Emmy used to live here with me. She lives in her brother’s house, now.” She hiccupped again.
Using her key, Emerson unlocked the front door, and they all traipsed inside. Stryker waited in the living room while Emerson took Danielle upstairs. He heard whispering and laughing, then Emerson came down alone. “Tomorrow, she’s going to wish you hadn’t seen her like this.”
“I won’t bring it up,” he replied.
They left and Emerson bolted the front door. In silence, they walked to his car.
As Stryker pulled back onto the main road, he became aware that he was alone with her. He’d been alone with her this afternoon, too. All this one-on-one time was cranking the heat way, way up. He opened the sunroof, but the breeze didn’t wick away the need coursing through him.
After giving him her address, she grew quiet. At a light, he glanced over. She returned his gaze. The pull was there, the magnetic tug to kiss her. The light changed. As he sped forward, he stifled the groan. Not kissing her was killing him.
He pulled up in front of her Alexandria townhouse. “Thanks for dinner and the ride. I know this is weird that we have to work together, and difficult for you because you can’t stand me.” She got out and took off toward the garage.
He cut the engine and hopped out. As the garage door opened, he said, “I want to make sure you get in okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“There’s a killer out there and you’re the one chasing him. Let me clear your place.”
