Chapter Ten Cole
After dozing a little here and there on Addie’s couch, I accept sleep is a lost cause at around five AM.
The workaholic in me starts getting antsy, so I get up, stretch out the kinks in my back and neck, and use the bathroom.
After getting dressed in the Henley and jeans from my go bag, I wander down to the kitchen in search of caffeine.
Plain black coffee is a must, but she’s got some fancy espresso machine.
Probably for those vanilla lattes she likes so much.
Once I figure it out, the damn thing barely spits out a shot’s worth of frothy caffeine.
God knows I need more than this, I think, and plop back down on the couch with my laptop.
As soon as Addie is up, we can walk down to the closest coffee shop.
If I had to guess, I’d say Addie probably likes to sleep in and will roll out of bed when she pleases.
So when she comes bouncing down the spiral staircase with her hair in a high ponytail and wearing a T-shirt, leggings and running shoes at six-fifteen sharp, I do a double take.
Because she looks fresh, lively and ridiculously beautiful even though she’s not wearing a stitch of makeup.
She also looks wide awake, like she slept like a baby.
How the hell did she sleep so well after nearly being blown up?
I wonder. But more so, she just proved that I barely know her.
“Good morning, Vaughn,” she says cheerily, then stops in front of the fridge and pulls out a carton of orange juice.
“Never would’ve guessed you’re a morning person.” I watch her pour a small glass then take a sip.
“Can’t say I’m surprised to see you already up and working.” Eyeing me above the rim, she finishes the juice and puts the empty glass in the sink. “I’ve never seen you in jeans before.”
I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, and I wait for her to say more.
“You almost look relaxed.” Sauntering over, ponytail swinging, she frowns. “Except for the fact you still look exhausted. Did you sleep at all?”
I shrug a shoulder. “A little.”
“Hmm.” She sends me an assessing look. “I’m going for a run. Care to join me?”
“I don’t run anymore,” I tell her. “Bad knees.”
Her lips twitch. “Exactly how old are you?”
“Thirty-seven. But between playing a lot of basketball in school and chasing after criminals since the day I left the academy, the old knees are shot.” I close my laptop and set it aside. “And you’re not going anywhere by yourself. Or have you forgotten what happened last night?”
“I never forget anything,” she answers smoothly.
“How about a compromise?” I ask, and she arches a delicate brow. “We walk down to the café on the corner so I can get a donut and a real coffee?”
She throws her head back and laughs. “You’re a walking cliché, Detective.”
And you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. The words flow through my mind before I can stop them. “Probably.”
“You didn’t like the espresso?” she asks.
“Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer my java untainted by fanciful machines. All I require is dirty bean water.”
“Only because that’s what your job has conditioned you to drink. Hang around me long enough and I’ll have you sipping vanilla lattes.”
I laugh. “Doubtful.”
We eye each other, both aware that my comment most likely refers to the fact our time together is limited. Because we both know I won’t be hanging around here for much longer.
“Oh, alright,” she relents, “but you’re messing up my routine.”
“Do you always get up this early and go running?” I ask as we head out the door, curious about this element of her life. There’s so much I want to know. But strictly because she’s a challenge I want to figure out. Like a puzzle to be solved. There’s nothing personal about my interest.
Or so I try to convince myself.
“Sure do.” She sets the alarm and locks the door. “What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, echoing her typical response when she doesn’t quite believe something.
“Can you handle four flights down?” she asks teasingly. “Because I gotta get my exercise in somewhere.”
“I think my knees will hold up,” I say dryly, and we start down the staircase.
“So you played a lot of basketball growing up? Why am I not surprised you were a jock?”
“I was tall, have big hands and can handle the ball well. It came naturally.”
“I bet you were competitive, too.”
“Very.” I cast her a sidelong glance. “I like to win.”
“So do I.” She meets my look, cobalt eyes challenging.
She thinks she can beat me at whatever game we’re playing here, but she has no idea how ruthless I can be when I want something. My determination and drive is powerful and, yeah, I’m used to winning.
We reach the first floor, and she shoves the side door open, stepping outside into the brisk autumn air.
Moving up beside her, I notice the way the sunlight gleams off her dark golden hair and the way it makes her blue eyes glitter.
After so many years of dealing in darkness and seeing the worst in people, Addie possesses a light I didn’t expect.
She’s an entrenched element of that very underworld I try so hard to eliminate, so I’m having trouble reconciling the fact she’s so radiant.
She’s all light and beauty, and I want to bathe myself in her essence.
You’re an idiot, Vaughn. A complete fool. Don’t waste your time wanting a woman who can never be yours. You’re on opposite sides.
I unwrap a stick of peppermint gum, fold it into my mouth and start chewing like a man possessed, refusing to smoke a cigarette despite wanting one desperately.
“Any news about last night?” she asks as we walk down the sidewalk.
“Not yet,” I admit. “But I’ve got feelers out. Someone will know something, and I’ll find whoever’s responsible.”
“You are persistent,” she states.
“Is that a bad thing?”
She slants an arched look my way. “It is when you’re determined to throw my ass in jail.”
We reach the café, and I stop outside the door, studying the way the sun glints off the highlights in her hair. “Why do you do it?” I ask, truly curious. “You don’t need the money. Is it for the thrill?”
She pastes on a fake smile. “Why else?” Then she pulls the door open and walks inside, leaving me standing there and wondering.
With a frown, I follow her. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what makes Addison Mills tick. She’s the most complicated woman I’ve ever met. But the frustrating part is I’d rather fuck her than put her delectable ass in a jail cell.
Focus, Vaughn.
I really need to start thinking with my correct head. Instead, I check out her swaying hips as she walks to the counter and do my best to ignore my body’s reaction. But, dammit, it’s getting more and more difficult.
Right now, my dick is the least of my problems. I need to find out who’s behind the car bombing and why Addie is a target.
After ordering a large black coffee and a glazed donut, I ask Addie if she wants anything.
“A peppermint tea sounds good. Thank you.”
I pay, and it doesn’t take long to receive our order. I toss my gum, and we choose a corner table, both of us sitting down with our backs against the wall so we can keep an eye on the door. She’s hyper-aware of her surroundings, and I can appreciate that.
I barely take two bites of my donut before my phone buzzes. Glancing down at the screen, I see it’s my sergeant calling. “Vaughn,” I answer before it has a chance to vibrate again.
“While you were dealing with the explosion last night, the hosts got hit,” Sergeant Mahoney states without preamble.
I swear under my breath as Addie watches me closely. “What did they take?”
“Not they. He. It was Billy Warrant,” he informs me. “Right before the car blew up, the security cams went offline. But he missed one. The guest house camera runs on a different circuit and it picked him up creeping down the pathway with a medium-sized duffel bag.”
“What was stolen?”
“A cool mil in one-hundred-dollar bills was missing from Mr. and Mrs. Carrington’s safe.”
That sneaky sonofabitch. “Do we have an address?”
“Yes.” He rattles off some numbers and a street name, and I make a mental note of it.
“How about a warrant?” I ask impatiently.
“We’re working on it.”
Not the answer I want. Sometimes working within the law’s time frame frustrates me, but what can I do? Mahoney promises to keep me updated and ends the call.
I take a quick sip of my coffee and bring Addie up to speed on what he said.
“Hmmm.”
“That’s all you have to say? This is huge.
We have footage of him with a duffel bag—probably full of the Carrington’s stolen cash, and who knows what else he lifted at the event—and once we have the warrant, I’m going to arrest his ass.
One of your competitors will be down, and you didn’t even have to lift a finger. ”
But she doesn’t look very convinced—or grateful—and that baffles me. I can see the wheels in her head spinning, and I’m not sure what she could possibly be thinking so hard about. Maybe she’s actually friends with Warrant and doesn’t want me to arrest him? Well, that’s just too fucking bad.
“What’s the problem?”
“You’re not going to find anything there,” she informs me, voice full of confidence.
“How do you know?”
She lets out a little sigh, turns and re-crosses her legs in the opposite direction. “Here’s the deal, Detective, and you can take it or leave it right now.”
My eyes narrow because she sounds like she’s about to tell me to fuck off if I don’t agree with whatever she’s about to say. I don’t like being threatened or coerced, but I do know she likes to be in control. So I’ll let her think she is, when really, I’m the one in the driver’s seat.
“Go on,” I grit out.
“Not to burst your bubble, but you won’t find Warrant or a bag full of cash at that address.”
“Where will I find him then?” I ask, leaning closer, locking gazes with her.
“Well, that all depends.” She doesn’t so much as blink.
“On what?” I force out through clenched teeth.
“On you handing over the evidence you’ve promised to give me. Right now.”
She’s calling my bluff, and I knew this moment would come. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with it so soon. “It’s at the station, in a safe place, and will be used to negotiate a deal with you.”
“When? Because I’m starting to lose faith in you, Vaughn.”
“You help me bring in Warrant, and it’s a done deal.”
The edge of her mouth lifts in the faintest smile, and I get the feeling she’s about to tell me I’m full of shit.
“If I feel you aren’t holding up your end of the bargain, I walk. We’re done.” Her steel tone offers no chance for bargaining.
“Deal,” I respond, my attention drifting over her full lips.
Remembering how luscious they felt and how insanely good she tasted.
When she holds out her slim hand, I don’t hesitate.
My fingers wrap around hers, and I try to ignore the jolt that shoots down my arm as we shake.
And continue to shake much longer than necessary, eyes glued to each other.
“I don’t trust you,” she murmurs.
“I don’t trust you either,” I respond.
“Glad we’re on the same page.” She pulls her hand away, and I curl my fingers into my palm, missing the soft, warm feel of her touch.
“So now what?” I ask.
She reaches for her tea and takes a sip. “Now I get the building schematics to where Billy Warrant really lives.”
“And where might that be?” I ask, sitting back in my seat.
“Patience, Detective,” she murmurs and types out a quick text message on her phone.
“I can get building schematics pretty fast,” I say, tapping my index finger on the table thoughtfully. “Probably by noon tomorrow.”
Addie shakes her head and chuckles. “You’re adorable.”
I frown.
“I have my own connections, and those schematics will be in my inbox before you’re done with that donut.”
“Who are you texting?”
“Finish eating, because we’re going to have the intel we need very soon.”
Less than two minutes later, I’m dusting donut crumbs from my hands when her email dings. You have got to be shitting me. There’s no way she could’ve gotten the schematics that quic—
“Got ‘em,” she says.
Okay, I’m officially dying to know who has the power to get her intel that fast. Biting back my questions, I watch her open a file and study it for a minute.
Then she scoots closer to me, leans in so I can see her screen, and points out something in what appears to be the basement of an apartment building.
“What’s that?” I ask, breathing in her orange blossom scent deeply. God, she smells like a spring day.
“That is where we go in,” she explains, “and why I love old buildings so much. Easy in, easy out.”
I squint, trying to see what she sees, and failing. What the hell am I not seeing? And is she talking about B&E?
She must notice my confusion because she continues, “That, good Detective, is a dumbwaiter connecting every single apartment in the building. Easy way to get burgled.”
She sends me a dazzling smile and, damn, there’s no denying it.
I’d like to burgle her.