Heat of the Night Page 8

  Which brought him to the reason he couldn't interpret one single word of the report in front of him. Was it all said and done? Would Erin realize that the two of them should never have played with fire? Especially not one as intense as this one could turn out to be.

  Or would she expect to pick up where they'd so abruptly been forced to leave off?

  And if so, what in the hell was his position on the matter?

  "Position." Cradling his head in his hands, he groaned. He could think of any number of likely positions he'd enjoy getting into with Erin. His phone rang. "Thank you whoever you are," he murmured, then snatched up the receiver on the second ring. "O'Keefe. Homicide."

  There was a clearing of a throat, then, "Brady?"

  He let his forehead drop until it hit the report on his desk. "Erin."

  There was a pause, as if she was trying to gauge his mood from that one single word. He wished her luck, since he had no idea what his mood was. Not precisely anyway. Frustrated, tired, cranky. Incredibly aroused. Damn, just hearing his name had him growing in his pants.

  "I, um, well." She broke off and he actually fought a smile.

  She was stuttering. Suddenly feeling better, he sat up. "I, um, well, what?" he asked, not bothering to hide his amusement.

  "Are you hungry?" The question came out quickly, almost tersely.

  He barely swallowed the groan. Hungry? He felt like a starving man at the moment. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with missing dinner. "Why?" It seemed the safest response. If there was such a thing around her.

  "I haven't eaten yet and I have a meeting with Henley and his campaign guy later, so I—"

  "You want me to go to dinner with you and the mayor?"

  She laughed, suddenly sounding far more like the Erin who had all but crawled up his body in her office today.

  "No, I don't want you to eat dinner with us. I'm not dining with Henley." There was a slight pause, then, "I thought you might like to grab something at Jimmy's and…you know…talk." Another pause which he did nothing to fill. "About…today. And tomorrow."

  "Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"

  He could hear the sensuality in her voice as she answered. "That's what I want to talk about."

  "Ah." Amazing how much a person could pack into one syllable, he thought.

  "Yeah. Ah."

  He delayed his response—mostly because he hadn't a clue what to say to that—just long enough for her to get her bearing first.

  "I guess what I'm asking is if you want there to be a tomorrow. But I really don't want to talk about this on my cell phone. Have you eaten? You feel like Jimmy's?"

  "No, I haven't eaten."

  He heard her audible sigh of relief. So she wasn't all that sure of herself after all. Hmm.

  "Twenty minutes? I have to go home and change clothes first."

  "For Jimmy's?"

  "No, for my meeting with Henley. I'm a bit…wrinkled."

  Right. And he recalled in vivid detail just how he'd put those wrinkles in that designer fit-me-like-a-glove suit she'd been wearing today. Immediately after those details, his fevered imagination happily continued the scenario all the way to her standing in front of her closet climbing out of those wrinkled clothes.

  "Brady?"

  He jerked slightly and sat up straighter. "Yeah, I'm here. What time?"

  "Twenty minutes?"

  Right, she'd just said that, hadn't she. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. He had a ton of work to do. And not a snowball's chance in hell of getting through it now, he realized. If he thought his mind had gone on vacation after that little two-minute interlude earlier, it was on full hiatus now that she'd made it clear she still considered the situation between them a viable one.

  "Yeah," he said gruffly. "Twenty minutes."

  Brady walked into Jimmy's like a man about to go before a firing squad. Which made no sense at all. Erin was bright, attractive, very easy to look at. And she was hot for his body. Any other man would be all but dancing into the pizza joint. But Brady wasn't any other man. Dammit.

  The only thing that kept him remotely on an even keel was the recollection of her voice on the phone. Hesitant, unsure, almost shy. But it was enough to tell him she was as uncertain of this new path they were contemplating as he was. Which was why he'd decided on the way over here that, despite his willingness earlier, his answer was going to be no thank you. Albeit a very regretful no thank you.

  If both of their instincts were clamoring for them to think twice, then he was going to damn well listen to the clamor for the both of them.

  Erin was at the counter with the boys, watching a hockey game and sipping a beer. Her legs were so long she could cross them and still have enough left over to tuck one ankle behind the other. Perched on that bar stool, all that entwined length was damn sexy. And all he could think about was how beautifully those legs could entwine around him.

  He strode over to the counter. "Hey."

  She waved him silent for a moment, then let out a very unladylike holler when the Islanders' goalie let one by him, giving the Flyers a one point lead.

  He found himself smiling at her easy camaraderie in a typically male milieu. Here he was all prepared to do battle like a gladiator…and she was more interested in hockey. He wasn't sure if he should be insulted, but he did relax a bit. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard. Maybe she'd already come to the same conclusion he had.

  "I thought you were a football fan," he said.

  She turned to him, her smile brilliant. "I am. I'm also a hockey fan. I also cheer on the 76ers."

  "You forgot the Phillies."

  "Baseball?" She made a face. "Never got into it."

  "What, not brutal enough?"

  She grinned. "Just not fast-paced enough for me."

  He recalled that she had been an only girl with a number of brothers. That was where she'd learned all her commando moves when they were kids. It had likely been for her own survival. It was just his luck she'd done most of her practicing on him. "You want to watch the rest of the game?"

  She shook her head. "No. Boucher has it sewn up. He's not letting anything by him tonight. Right, guys?"

  As one they all turned toward her and nodded, glowing smiles on their faces. Brady thought for sure they were going to drop off their stools and genuflect at her high-heeled feet at any second.

  "Come on," he said, "there's a table over there." He motioned to one in the far corner, farthest from the door and from her adoring fan club. Even Miller was hurrying to put a napkin under her mug before handing it to her.

  "Here ya go, Erin," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  Brady snorted. "Come on, before they make a sash out of coasters and proclaim you Ms. Jimmy's."

  Erin merely rolled her eyes, said thanks to Miller and led the way to the corner table.

  Once they were seated, facing each other, staring at one another, Brady wondered what he'd been in such an all-fired hurry for. He stared past Erin's shoulder at the men at the counter, thankful when Philly scored again and drew their attention back to the game.

  "What do you want on your pizza?" She didn't bother looking at the menu.

  A woman who knew what she wanted. He shouldn't have been surprised. "You pick. You know I like everything."

  She lifted one eyebrow. "Do you? I would have guessed you for a more selective type."

  Brady sighed. "Okay, no double entendres. This is going to be difficult enough as it is."

  Her smile faltered. "Difficult?" Then her expression smoothed. "Oh. I see." She ran her fingers over the chilled glass of her mug. "Why didn't you just tell me this on the phone?" She looked up at him, her smile smooth enough, as long as you didn't notice that it didn't reach her eyes. "I could have watched the game."

  "Because I didn't decide until I was on my way over here."

  Miller signaled from the counter for their order and Erin merely stared at Brady.

  He relented with a sigh. "I guess we might as well eat."
>
  Erin laughed, but there was little real humor in it. "Please, stop, you're making me feel so desirable."

  "Sorry." Brady called to Miller to bring them one with the works. "No anchovies," he added.

  "Thank you for that, at least."

  He looked back at her, but his responding grin faded quickly. "Look, I'm sorry. This is probably not the place for us to have this conversation anyway."

  She looked around, then back at him. "Where do you usually do the dump-n-run?"

  "The dump-n— Excuse me?"

  "Gina's term. For the end of the jump-n-run. Except I never even got to the jump part."

  Brady didn't even pretend to know what the hell she was talking about. All his carefully rehearsed lines had already become a half-forgotten jumble. "I figured if we were both so unsure about this arrangement, it was probably a good idea to listen to those second thoughts."

  "Why?"

  He stared at her. "Why?"

  She nodded. "Of course we're going to have second thoughts and probably third ones. I would no matter who I was contemplating beginning a— Whatever it is we're beginning."

  "See? That right there is why we shouldn't be beginning anything. We can't even describe what it is we're beginning."

  "The way I see it, maybe that just proves we're being smart about the whole thing. Maybe it's when you jump right in and don't think it out first that trouble happens."

  "So what exactly are you saying?"

  "I'm saying we should discuss it."

  "Discuss it." Brady shook his head. "Like this is some kind of business merger."

  Her mouth curved. "Well, a merger anyway."

  Brady felt his neck heat up. Damn but it was hard to say no to her when she smiled at him like that. "Maybe there is a reason people don't discuss it," he said evenly. "Because it's not supposed to be coldly outlined and signed on the dotted line, like a deal to be closed that sort of takes the fun out of it, don't you think?"

  She set her mug down and leaned forward on her elbows. "I don't think we'd have any trouble whatsoever making this fun."

  Brady's throat tightened. As did other parts of his body.

  "Spontaneity is for people interested in romance and building real relationships," she went on. "I don't think that's what we want here, so why should there be any pretense?"

  Brady chuckled. "Listen to you. You sound like most men in situations like this."

  "Then I should be your fantasy come true. A woman who wants nothing more than to spend some downtime with you. No demands, no relationship other than two people letting off steam. Together."

  Brady was saved from responding to that immediately when their pizza arrived. "Thanks, Miller."

  The older man nodded, but his eyes never left Erin. As he turned to head back to the counter, he winked at Brady and made the okay sign where Erin couldn't see him. Brady shook his head and wondered just what he was he doing here anyway?

  He looked back at Erin in time to see her roll a long string of melted cheese around her tongue, then close her eyes as she pulled it into her mouth to savor it.

  Okay, so that was why he was here. She was sexy, willing and totally up front about her reasons for wanting him. Which brought up another question. "Why me?"

  Her eyes blinked open and she swallowed her bite in one lump. After chasing it down with a sip of beer, she said, "What do you mean?"

  "Exactly what I said. Why me? You must have plenty of other corporate types in your life that would be more than willing to agree to…an arrangement like this."

  She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not sure I like the way you phrased that."

  Now it was Brady who propped his elbows on the table. "And how else would you phrase it? You were the one who said this wasn't about hearts and flowers. So if it's going to be an affair, why not call it that?"

  Erin held his gaze with her own mutinous one for several long seconds before finally looking away. "I guess you're right."

  "Unless you're saying this isn't really just a release-valve kind of thing and underneath what you really want is the hearts and flowers."

  Her response to that was as immediate as it was obviously sincere. "With you?" She snorted. "I don't think so."

  "Gee, good thing my ego isn't easily bruised."

  She laughed. "Sorry. But, to answer your earlier question, that is why you're perfect for this. I don't really want to get into anything serious in my life right now. And it seems that all those corporate suits you mentioned never seem content to leave things casual. I don't want to be having to relate my every move to someone else, or schedule my life around someone else's expectations of where I should be and what I should be doing. You made it very clear the other day that this was exactly how you felt, too. But just because we're focused on our own lives and careers doesn't mean we don't get a little needy from time to time." She looked him directly in the eye. "So I figured we'd match up well. You certainly can't argue that the chemistry is there."

  No, he couldn't, but something about all this bothered him. "So you had this all laid out, just waiting for the right guy?"

  "Of course not, that's not how I meant it at all. I never even thought about having—"

  "An affair?"

  She ground her teeth, but her eyes held some amusement. "That sounds tawdry, like something people do that they're not supposed to be doing, with someone they're not supposed to be doing it with. You and I are free agents here. Surely there's a better word for it than that."

  Brady was smiling now too. He enjoyed several bites of his pizza and let her stew for a bit. She was really something else. Trying so hard to be all cosmopolitan about the idea and at the same time obviously struggling with it. "Like I said, if we can't even comfortably describe this, maybe there should be no this."

  Erin put her pizza back on her plate. "You know, maybe you're right."

  Her surprise turnabout made him pause. What, was he upset now that she'd seen his point? How perverse was that? Was he really hoping she'd persuade him to agree to her plan?

  She glanced at her watch and swore softly under her breath. "I have to go." She looked at him, then offered a slight smile. "Well, can't blame a girl for trying, right?"

  Brady shrugged, wondering just how bad a mistake he was making here. She was right. Her offer was every man's fantasy. He couldn't believe he was letting her walk away. But he was. He hated being the good guy-She gathered her purse and the bill and stood.

  "I'll get that," Brady said, reaching for the ticket.

  She shook her head. "It was my invite. Just enjoy the rest of it, okay?"

  He started to argue, then realized she was trying hard to save face. Had this encounter really been that difficult for her? Apparently so. He was oddly touched by that. That she'd stepped that far out of her comfort zone because she'd thought her idea might work. He realized then that for all of Erin's apparent ease with her sexuality, she was hardly free in sharing it. He wished he had the words to tell her that it was flattering to him that she'd offered in the first place.

  As she moved beside where he was seated on her way out, he placed his hand on her arm, stopping her. "I didn't make the decision easily."

  She said nothing, simply holding his gaze. Finally she smiled. "Thanks for that, O'Keefe."

  O'Keefe. He guessed he deserved the return to formality. He couldn't have it both ways. "Yeah. No problem."

  "When will you have another update on the case for me? For Henley, I mean."

  Business. That's all that was going to be between them now. He sighed, unable to escape the feeling that he'd just really blown it. "In a few days. I'll let you know."

  "Fine. The poll figures are worrying. I'm going to push the mayor, or should I say Fletcher, to let me come up with something on this. Dodging things like he has is only going to work for so long. Too much more and it's going to come back on him. Any help from you would be greatly appreciated."

  "Sure."

  His easy acquiescence had her raising an eyebrow.
"What, you're feeling sorry for me now?" But rather than look honestly chagrined, she smiled. "If we're not going to tussle in bed together, at least give me a good tussle otherwise, okay, O'Keefe?" And then she paid the tab, said goodbye to her cheering section and sailed out the door without another glance in his direction.

  Good thing Brady hadn't been chewing on pizza. He'd have choked on it after her parting shot. Had he really thought she'd been uncomfortable with this whole thing? You'd never know it by the way she left.

  But as he lingered over another piece of pizza and the rest of his beer, he kept picturing her expression and recalling the hint of uncertainty in her voice as they'd talked it over. Erin might put on a good show— and it was a hell of a good one—but beneath all her considerable God-given attributes and clever intellect she was just as insecure as anyone else.

  And damn but she'd have been great to tussle in the sheets with. Brady downed the rest of his beer in one pull and stood. He was an idiot. He waved goodbye to Miller and pushed out the door.

  But he remained an unattached idiot, and that was all that mattered in the end.

  9

  Erin's mind was definitely not on business as she entered city hall. It was still back in Jimmy's. With Brady. She cringed inwardly as she recalled their conversation. He'd turned her down. Flat.

  She felt like a total fool. But then she'd remember that kiss in her office. He'd been more than willing then. She couldn't help wondering what would have happened if Gina hadn't interrupted when she did. Would Brady have stopped them? She wasn't so sure. And if they'd ended up…more satisfied…would he have still been so willing to write off her idea?

  She stepped off the elevator, trying hard to get her mind off her personal life and back on her business life, when Todd Fletcher stepped forward. She almost ran smack into him before she noticed he'd been waiting by the doors. For her? She immediately checked her watch. "Hi. I'm not late, am I?"