Chapter 9

9

I heard my phone ring on the bathroom counter. I finished rinsing the soap off my face before I checked my watch.

Seeing it was Sophie I answered, "Hey, everything good?"

"I have a question for you," she launched in. "How much time would I serve for progenitorcide?"

"Say what now?"

"Mothercide. Parentalcide. Creatorcide. Homicide of the woman who birthed you. Take your pick but be fast about it. I need to decide if the crime is worth the time and do you think if I explain to a jury all the ways my mother drives me batshit crazy I could get off on a technicality or extenuating circumstances? All I need is one sympathizer for a hung jury, right?"

Christ, she was cute .

"First tell me you're okay and safe then I'll explain to you why you don't want to commit a felony."

There was a stretch of silence long enough for me to twist my wrist to make sure the call hadn't disconnected.

"Where are you? You sound like you're in a car wash."

"You're on my watch and I'm in the shower."

"The shower," she repeated on a breath and I knew what she was thinking about.

My cock jerked at the memory. The way her eyes had roamed and lingered as she'd openly taken me in. Blatant interest she hadn't bothered hiding, or if she had tried she failed. The way she covered that interest with humor. It wasn't lost on me women enjoyed certain parts of my anatomy more than other parts. Over the years I'd had a lot of reactions; lust, fascination, shock, excitement, and when that happened I ceased to exist and it became all about my dick and getting them off. But not Sophie. She'd taken me in and immediately started giving me gruff. It was cute. It was funny. It was refreshing in a way I didn't understand until I saw her at the coffee shop and she hadn't had a personality transplant—that being turning overtly flirtatious and angling to get me into bed. I was still me and she was just her. I was the one who joked about her seeing me naked, purposely bringing it up to see what her reaction would be but also to tease her out of her heavy mood.

That had backfired, in more ways than one. The first being my reminder meant I'd gone to work wearing her coffee on my shirt. The second served only to reinforce what I'd felt the first time I'd run into her at the grocery store—a spark of interest. The third part of that was more complicated; it was nothing more than a feeling and one I couldn't explain. Which meant I wasn't real thrilled I couldn't place the feeling. The only thing I knew was it felt good and right and almost inevitable. A feeling of being drawn to someone for no reason other than it was unescapable and impossible to ignore.

"Baby, not that I mind taking a shower with you on the phone but I can't convince you homicide isn't the way to go if you don't talk to me. And just to point out you still haven't confirmed everything's okay."

"I haven't left my house this morning," she said like that was an answer and bad shit didn't happen to people in their homes. "And everything was perfectly fine until my mother called me to tell me she was on her way over. She didn't say, but she didn't have to because I know her. This visit won't be a friendly mother-daughter sharing a cup of coffee in order to catch up with each other. She's coming over to shove her opinions down my throat since she failed to convince me to give up on my business and go get what she calls a real job. But that's actually not why I'm calling, though I was slightly interested in the penalties one would face for strangling their mother."

I had no experience with overbearing parents. When my mother was alive she and my father had been supportive but not domineering. My dad had been firm in his guidance but only when it came to how he believed a man should behave—that being respectful, chivalrous, loyal, protective, and above all else trustworthy. However, it wasn't a lesson in morality or duty. Neither of my parents had ever pushed their wishes or dreams onto me or my sister.

Now since my mother's death, all guidance had ceased. I could tell my father I'd quit my job, sold all my belongings, donated the proceeds to charity, and planned to live under a bridge somewhere for the rest of my life and I doubted he'd bat an eye. He certainly wouldn't give fatherly advice.

But I didn't need experience with it to know her relationship with her mom was jacked.

"You could not answer your door when she arrives," I offered as a solution. "And there's this setting in your phone that prevents people from calling or texting."

"She's my mother."

Now that I had experience with.

No matter how many times I told myself I was giving up on my father I always went back.

"I get it."

"You do?"

This was not a shower conversation and not because it wasn't something I discussed— ever— it was well and truly not a topic to discuss when I couldn't give it my full attention.

"I do. So if you weren't calling to tell me your mother's coming over for an uninvited chat why are you calling? "

"Last night I forgot to say thank you."

I stood there for a second that led to two then three before I allowed the fullness of her gratitude to hit. It wasn't the words, it was the way she said them. The sincerity that was tinged with vulnerability. She wanted me to know me keeping her safe meant something to her and she wanted it to mean something to me, too. Not a cop doing his job, but as a man who would look after her.

My first inclination was to make an indifferent comment that wouldn't give any indication how much her gratitude meant to me. A simple, ‘no problem' or ‘it's my job.' However, as ever with Sophie I felt that unexplainable draw. A connection that had felt predestined now just felt real and absolute.

"My pleasure, baby."

"Well…I should… let you get back to your shower."

I felt myself smile at her sudden shyness.

"Didn't think you had that in you."

"Had what in me?"

There was a hint of affront sneaking into her tone. She thought I was making fun of her thanking me.

"You being shy."

"I'm not shy."

"No shit. I got that when you stood in the bathroom wide-eyed while I was buck-assed naked instead of turning around or leaving. But I knew before that when you groped me at the grocery store saying you didn't mean to do it when we both know you did."

"I didn't grope you at the store. I turned and you were standing in my personal space. It's not my fault you have a huge chest and it got in the way when I was pulling my phone away from my ear."

"We'll agree to disagree."

"I'd argue that but my mother's knocking on the door."

Well, fuck . I thought I'd have time to get to her place before her mother showed. Either she lived close or Sophie had waited a while before she called me.

"I'll let you go, Soph, but only after I remind you, you don't have to take anyone's shit. Not even your mother's."

"Yeah."

I didn't like the defeat I heard only a little less than I liked her facing off with her mother without someone at her back.

"See you soon, baby."

Before she could respond I disconnected the call on my watch and finished my shower.

By the time I got to Sophie's my hair was still damp and only twenty minutes had elapsed. But when she opened the door the hurt in her eyes said twenty minutes was twenty minutes too long for her to be alone with her mother.

"What are you doing here?" she softly asked, then peeked over her shoulder before turning back to me whispering, "My mother's here."

My hand went to her chest, I gave her a gentle shove back into the apartment and walked in.

"Valentine? "

"No."

"No?"

I gave a long, assessing look and found I'd been wrong. In the twenty minutes since her mother had been in her home, she was hurt and angry.

That shit was not on.

"No, you're not taking another minute of this shit."

Sophie's eyelids slowly lowered. They were slower to open. Which made any indecision I had butting into her business vanish.

"Baby?" I called and waited until she focused on me. "I'm gonna make you as safe as I can, yeah?" Her chestnut eyes flashed. "I'm also gonna make sure a brother in blue doesn't get a call out for a progenitorcide or alternately my team doesn't get called in on our day off to handle a hostage situation."

Her lips pinched before they curved up into a smile.

"It'd suck they got called in on their day off," she returned.

Thank fuck she was onboard.

Right time to move this along.

I grabbed her hand, her fingers threaded between mine, and I didn't miss the way they fit. Like they were meant to notch into place—not too small, not too fragile.

Just right.

A perfect fit.

"Come on. Let's introduce me."

The very short hallway was nothing more than an architecture necessity delineating the bedroom to the right and the kitchen to the left. With me and Sophie holding hands the space was cramped yet I made no move to let her go.

I had a point to make.

When the kitchen table came into view I saw a woman sitting there with a bright yellow mug in front of her with a glittery cartoon smiley face decorating the front. Boldly in block letters it read Don't Yuck My Yum. I didn't attempt to hide my smile.

I knew Sophie had purposefully given her mother that mug as a GFY.

Petty.

Brilliant.

And something I could fully get behind.

"Mother, this is Valentine," Sophie introduced us.

I reckoned the ambiguity was on purpose—not expounding on our relationship, leaving her mother to guess if Sophie and I were friends or something more.

Again, brilliant, especially seeing as her mother's gaze had locked on our hands.

"Valentine, this is my mother, Lorelai."

"Ma'am."

Lorelai's eyes tipped up as she gracefully stood with a beaming, bright smile.

I instantly didn't like her.

"Sophie, why didn't you tell me you've found a suitor?" There was a tinge of disbelief that curled around the woman's purr.

"Oh, we're?— "

"New," I butted in.

Sophie's hand convulsed in mine.

"Please, won't you join us? My daughter and I were just discussing the job market in Savannah."

Savannah was an hour's drive without traffic. It wasn't unheard of for the residents of Hollow Point to work in the city, especially the citizens who lived in the wealthier neighborhoods. But if you could find a job without the headache of a commute and traffic most people worked local.

I glanced from mother to daughter, took in Sophie's reddening cheeks, and shoved down my initial response that would go over like a ton of bricks, and opted to turn the tables instead.

"That's great, baby. I didn't know you were already branching out to pull in more clients from the city."

"Clients?" Lorelai spat like the word tasted foul. "We were discussing future employment."

Sophie went stiff beside me.

Dislike shifted to disdain.

"That was not what we were discussing, Mother. You were demanding I close my business right this second and apply to the jobs you found in Savannah that you feel were properly suited for me . I was explaining to you that wasn't going to happen and you were in the middle of telling me why it was when Valentine knocked on the door."

"Sophie Lynn Huxley, that was incredibly rude," Lorelai huffed.

Oh, yeah, I didn't like this woman at all.

"Rude or not, it's the plain truth."

Without another word out of Lorelai she swiped an expensive looking clutch off the table and swanned—yes, the woman swanned like she was making a grand entrance into a gala in her honor—only stopping when she circled the table to make her exit.

Then, unfortunately she spoke.

"It's time you grow up, Sophie, and come to realize your financial stability is on the line. One day you will thank me for not giving up on you."

Giving up on her?

Was this woman for real?

I didn't get a chance to ask.

We stood in silence as Lorelai let herself out of Sophie's apartment. As soon as the door clicked shut Sophie's body relaxed.

"Thank you for the rescue," she mumbled. "I couldn't get her to leave."

I twisted my hand out of hers and brought it up to her face to cup her cheek and to tilt her head back. Once I had her full attention, which meant her warm brown eyes gazing into mine, my mind went blank and my blood heated.

Fuck, she was pretty.

Sophie's eyes dropped to my lips so I watched those lips form the question, "What's happening?"

"No clue. "

Her gaze flicked back to mine. The disappointment was easy to read.

But in what I was learning was true Sophie fashion, she laid it out.

"So you're not going to kiss me?"

Her invitation was sweet, made sweeter by her honesty.

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

That was a really great fucking question.

Though Sophie was already rolling up, meeting me halfway, so when our lips crashed together, they crashed . There was no slow build-up, no tentative touch of tongues. Sophie kissed like she lived—bold, out there, nothing held back. And fuck but I liked that. Too much. But it wasn't until her hands were under my shirt exploring my back, I had a hand on her ass, her tits pressed against my chest, and my dick painfully hard that I broke the kiss.

Sophie's lids fluttered open. Those deep brown eyes tipped up, and Jesus fuck I shouldn't have kissed her.

Not yet.

Not when I didn't have myself straight about the shit I was feeling.

"Wow," she breathed.

She was rolling back up for seconds. Something I wished I could give her but couldn't.

"Baby?"

"Hm?" she hummed, lips coming closer .

"Right now, I need you to step away and go grab your shoes, purse, keys, whatever it is you need so we can get out of here."

Those goddammed eyes hazy with a look I really fucking liked widened before the shutters slammed closed. Gone was the glassy fog of lust. In its place was hesitation and embarrassment.

As much as I needed to get out of this apartment and someplace public I couldn't let that stand. Especially not the embarrassment.

My hand still resting on her cheek slipped farther back. My fingers slid into her hair. The need to gather all those silk strands in my fist was damn near overwhelming—another reason we needed to bolt before I took hold of all that long, gleaming hair and took more than her mouth.

Using my hand on her ass I pulled Sophie closer, pressed my hips deep so she couldn't miss exactly what her kiss had created.

"That is why we need to move this to someplace public."

Her eyes flared as confusion and curiosity leaked in.

"Or this is going to go a lot further and faster than I suspect you're ready for."

"You'd suspect wrong," she volleyed.

"Okay, how about this? After that kiss I need to leave now before I find a way to get you on your knees to find what else you can do with that mouth of yours."

That eye flare turned auspicious and seeing that set my blood burning and my dick throbbing.

"The first time I have your mouth wrapped around my cock and my face buried in your pussy will not be right after you have a fucked-up drama with your mother. And that's exactly what's going to happen if you don't stop staring at me with those gorgeous eyes while my cock is so hard I can feel my pulse thumping in it."

"Maybe you should sit down. With all the blood flowing below the belt I wouldn't want you to pass out," she teased.

If she wasn't on point I would've smiled.

"Baby, me sitting down means you'll be on your knees in front of me."

"I see your dilemma."

She was being cute but that didn't mean she knew jack shit about the problem she was causing. And not just with my zipper imprinting on my cock. The woman was fucking with my head.

"So help me out, yeah?"

"Sure, but I want it known I'm leaving this apartment under orders, not because I want to. My mother is who she is. Her drama and insults are not new. I've lived with them my whole life. And just to add, you coming here, riding to my rescue, putting her in her place and watching her storm out is totally worth a blow job."

"Good to know. But I didn't say what I said to your mother for a payback blow job. "

The cute way Sophie's brows pulled together while her eyes narrowed wreaked havoc on my cock. But the way she snapped, "I was teasing," then tacked on, "I wouldn't actually blow you as payback" made me want to kiss the sass right off her tongue.

"Just to note, you talking about giving me a blow job—payback or otherwise—isn't helping."

"You know what would?" she fired back with a smile.

She was teasing again and she knew exactly what she was doing.

I unfortunately didn't.

I was tempting fate.

"Yeah, Sophie, I know exactly what would help."

My cock jumped at the idea of me getting with the program.

Her head twitched and those goddamned eyes sparked.

What the hell is it about her eyes?

She felt it.

Not that she could miss anything with our lower halves pressed together.

When her lips tipped up into a smile, I braced.

Fortunately, her phone rang before she could say more. Also fortunate—it was across the room, which meant I needed to let her go so she could answer it.

"Get that, baby," I encouraged. I removed my hands and stepped back.

A grin that looked a helluva lot like a smirk tugged at her mouth as she stepped away .

Seeing that, my sanity snapped. My hand shot out, wrapped around her biceps, pulling her to a stop.

But I waited until my mouth was at her ear before I promised, "If you're not careful, one day I'm gonna fuck that smirk off your pretty lips."

Sophie being Sophie was completely unflustered.

I was totally fucked.

All from a kiss.

No, not a kiss—a really great kiss. And pretty eyes, and a bold and confident attitude that turned me inside out. Add in her ass and a heavy dose of drama and I was a goner. Totally and completely in over my head.

So, yeah, I was fucked.