Chapter 11

11

I knew the second Sophie walked in the door. Ethan's partner and my friend Jase's attention went over my shoulder. His eyes fixated on something and did an up-and-down sweep. I focused my body to stay relaxed and my hand wrapped around my beer not to crush the can.

"Goddamn," Jase muttered.

Goddamn was right and I hadn't even looked at her yet.

"Be back." His ass slid off the stool, leaving me in a precarious position.

The irrational side of me wanted to body slam him before he got to her. The parts of me that were fighting the pull of her thought it would be great if they hit it off; then maybe I could get some fucking sleep and stop obsessing over her. The petty side wanted to watch him get shot down. My ego, however, worried she'd choose him .

I was fucked.

After a week of warring with myself and staying away that hadn't changed.

Six times in her presence and one kiss and I was hooked.

I turned on my stool and there she was.

Goddamn didn't touch how gorgeous she was, and when her eyes scanned the crowd she looked a little nervous, maybe a little lost. But when her gaze caught mine and her lips tipped up, swear to Christ she looked found.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do with that look or how it made my chest tight.

Jase said something to Sophie I couldn't hear. She shook her head and pointed. When he looked over his shoulder and realization hit, I almost felt sorry for the guy. He looked back and jerked his head. When he turned and gestured for Sophie to precede him I considered punching my friend in the face. My internal debate ended when his gaze stayed on me instead dropping to her ass and he mouthed fuck you .

A gentleman would've got his ass up and escorted her through the crush of people.

I stayed where I was for no other reason than I liked watching her walk to me. I liked knowing she was there for me. I liked that her eyes didn't unlock from mine and the rest of the bar had melted away. I liked that when she knew I was watching she added a little more sway to her hips. And I seriously liked she was getting off on me watching.

Christ .

I needed my head examined.

Or I needed to fuck her.

The first was an actual concern. The second was going to happen.

"Hey, baby," I greeted when she made it close.

"Hey—" If she meant to say more, I didn't let her finish.

I hooked her around the waist, pulled her close, and dipped in for a kiss. What was supposed to be a closed-mouth warning to all the assholes who'd watched her walk in, turned into something else when her tongue touched my bottom lip. The control I mustered up was award winning. With nothing more than a single swipe of mine I broke the kiss.

When I pulled back her lips were twitching.

"Glad you made it."

Those lips curved up.

"So am I."

A throat cleared. I glanced at Jase standing next to the stool he'd vacated. I shifted Sophie closer so she was standing between my legs.

"Jase, you met my girl, Sophie."

I felt Sophie jolt and not for the first time I wondered what the fuck I was doing.

"Yeah, brother, I introduced myself." He chuckled with a good-natured shake of his head .

"What do you want to drink, Soph?"

When she craned her head to look at me she was no longer smiling.

"A long neck of WTF with a shot of confusion."

It took me longer than it should've to comprehend what she meant.

"I don't know if Chelsea serves that here but I can ask."

"I heard it's called the Valentine Special," she quipped, and fuck me, I wanted to kiss her again.

I dipped closer and after a quick mouth touch stayed close to say, "I thought it was the Hot Cop Special."

"You think you're funny."

No, I thought she was hilarious and cute as fuck with her cheeks tinging pink.

"You guys doing alright over here?" Chelsea asked from behind the bar.

"What do you really want, Sophie?"

I saw her eyes flash. It was so quick, if I hadn't been close, staring right at her, I would've missed it.

But I didn't miss shit.

"Blue Moon, please."

"I don't know if I should fan myself, find my husband and take a break, or toss ice water on you two," Chelsea jibed.

"Tell me about it," Jase groused.

Fuck, we were in public.

I shifted Sophie, slid off my stool, planted her on it, and shifted again so I was at her back.

There. Gentlemanly.

"You look familiar," Sophie said.

"Yeah, I was there the day at the liquor store when you kicked that fuckstick's ass. Couldn't tell you then so I'll tell you now, that was epic." Jase paused, wiped the smile off his face, and asked, "You okay? I heard you were hurt."

Fuck!

I'd been too busy fighting whatever this was I felt for her, I hadn't asked about her injury.

Good God, I was an asshole.

"You're a cop, too."

I froze. Jealousy was a new and unchartered emotion for me. But there it was, and I wore it like a bad suit, wondering if Sophie would call him Hot Cop, too.

"Yeah, I'm Ethan's partner. We work out of the six-ten with V and his team."

Conversation was halted when Chelsea set down Sophie's drink.

"I'm Chelsea," she introduced herself as her husband Matt came up next to her. "This is Matt."

"Sophie."

Matt's gaze slid from Sophie to me.

I knew that smile and what it said. Matt owned Balls Deep with his wife but he worked at Triple Canopy and he'd been there the day I asked Dylan for the panic button for Sophie.

The thread of hope I had that he'd keep his mouth shut was cut .

"Heard a lot about you, Sophie. Good to meet you."

Fuck. Me .

"You've heard about me?" she asked Matt but had turned to look at me.

"Remember I told you I called in a favor to get that tracker? Matt works at TC," I explained.

"Right."

Was that disappointment I detected?

"I need to give that back to you, now that I don't need it," she continued.

Ethan and Jase had found Ackerman late last night and he was being held on a slew of charges including attempted murder. This after he was out on bail for attempted robbery. It was unlikely he'd be released again.

"Keep it."

"But—"

"Just for a little while longer, baby. Let's make sure he stays where he belongs."

I hadn't missed it before and I sure as hell wasn't missing it now when she read whatever it was she needed from me and relented.

"Okay."

And there it was again—that unnerving feeling in the pit of my stomach when she studied me. The woman saw far too much. The problem was I couldn't get a grasp on what she saw.

"Chels, need my tab, darlin'," Jase drawled.

"I've told you a thousand times, your money's no good here," Matt cut in .

"And I've told you a thousand times, my money's?—"

"No good here," Chels finished for Jase.

Jase shook his head and slapped a fifty on the bar, which was triple what his tab would've been if Matt would have let him pay.

"I'm gonna hit it. Nice meeting you, Sophie, I'm sure I'll see you around. V, we'll catch up in the morning."

Goodbyes were exchanged with Matt and Chels then Jase was gone. Soon after that, Chelsea got back to work, leaving Matt behind.

"Heard about you kicking Ackerman's ass," Matt mumbled.

Soph glanced at me to ask, "Does everyone know?"

"Not every day a beautiful five-foot-six woman gets the drop on a man who's got six inches on her and seventy pounds, and beats the shit out of him. So, yeah, pretty much everyone knows."

"And approves," Matt threw in.

Thankfully Matt's underlying meaning went over Sophie's head. However, I caught it along with the pointed look he cast me.

"We're gonna hit a table."

"Don't let him bullshit you," Matt started. "The man can run a table."

"Eight ball or one pocket?" Sophie tossed out.

Matt blinked then a slow smile spread over his face.

"Oh, yeah, this is gonna be fun," he muttered and walked away.

He wasn't wrong .

This was going to be hella fun.

It was just that the real fun was going to happen later.

I offered my hand and when she took it and those small fingers wrapped tight I was reminded how perfectly her hand fit in mine.

"Tell me, Mr…" Sophie paused and looked up at me. "I don't know your last name."

"Malone."

"Valentine Malone." My name rolled off her tongue. I had yet to recover from the heat that hit my chest when she went on. "Tell me, Mr. Malone. Are you up for making a wager?"

I tugged her to a stop and spun her around. My arm darted around her middle and I yanked her close.

"Absolutely. But you should know, Matt wasn't lying. I can run a table, Soph."

I should've known I was screwed when her lips quirked up and she shrugged while admitting, "I'm not horrible."

"What do you have in mind?"

"If I win you take me home."

"I wasn't going to let you Uber?—"

"To your bed."

Straight up, no bullshit, pure Sophie.

"If I win," I started, then leaned forward brushing my lips across her cheek to her ear. I paused to fully take in her shiver before I whispered, "I get you in my bed, at my command."

"So win or lose I still win," she mused .

"When I win, I get you in my bed naked, spread out, and at my mercy."

"So I win."

"No, baby, that'd be you giving me the gift of you so I'd win. But I promise you won't regret giving it."

I didn't let myself process her tiny jolt. Nor did I allow myself to ponder why she scared the hell out of me. Further from that, I didn't think about the small detail that once I had her in bed I wasn't giving her up.

Nope.

I shoved that all aside and led her to a table.

An hour later I learned she'd lied.

She wasn't horrible.

The woman was a goddamned hustler.