Frisk Me (7 page)

“Jesus,” Luc muttered, shooting his partner a look. “I thought we agreed to try and get rid of Sims, not ask her out.”

Ava frowned, a little stung, even though he hadn’t made it a secret that he didn’t want her around. “You
do
see me standing here, yes?”

His eye skimmed over her, hot and angry. “Yes, Sims, I see you. I’ve
been
seeing you. But don’t think for one second that just because the NYPD decided to bend over for your network means I have to like the fact that you’re interfering with my job. Got it?”

Loud and clear.

But instead of responding, she ignored his outburst completely and turned to Sawyer as though Luc had never spoken.

“I’ll take a cab back to the precinct,” she said. “What do you say I take you to lunch, and you can tell me all about what it’s like to be the partner of this sweetheart of a superhero here.”

Lopez winked. “Love to.”

Luc growled.

Ava turned on her heel, pausing only to kiss the tip of her index finger before pressing it against the backseat window where Mr. Naked was continuing to holler.

She very deliberately did not turn around to see if Luc Moretti watched her walk away. And she definitely didn’t put a little extra wiggle in her hips just in case he was.

Okay, maybe she did that last part. Just a little.

Her eyes began scanning for a taxi as she began mentally compiling her story notes for the day:

Luc Moretti: a good cop? Probably. An ass? Definitely.

Simply following him around wasn’t going to cut it. Luc Moretti the
officer
was the cover of the story, but Luc Moretti the
man
was the heart of it.

This would only work if she could get at the man beneath the uniform. Figure out what made him tick. What he loved. Whom he dated…

Did he have a girlfriend?

She needed to know.

For research’s sake, obviously.

“Watch your back, Moretti,” she muttered to herself as she raised her hand to hail an approaching cab. “I’m about to get
all
up in your personal life.”

“What was that?”

Ava spun around and found herself toe to toe with one very annoyed, very attractive police officer. Over his shoulders she spotted their squad car pull into traffic.

“Did Sawyer just leave you here?”

“I told him to.”

“Ah ha, so you left him to handle naked guy on his own.”

“He can handle it.”

“Why didn’t you go with him?”

“Thought you and I need to have a little chat,” he said.

Ava glared. “Thought we just did that when you berated me back there.”

“You were interfering with police business.”

“You sure you want to power-trip me this early in the game, Moretti? We’re going to be spending lots of time together. You might want to save your lectures for the important moments.”

Luc inhaled deeply. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you’re an absolute
delight
.”

Ava was pretty sure that neither one of them actually moved, but somehow they were closer than ever now, and she didn’t think it was her imagination that both were breathing harder than necessary.

And despite the cloudy skies, Ava was definitely feeling warmer than the weather warranted.

Confused by the unfamiliar onslaught of want, totally inappropriate given their circumstances and the fact that she didn’t even know the guy, her eyes helplessly found his.

Ava was both gratified and alarmed to see the same frustration and confusion in Luc’s expression.

Whatever was between them—this odd mix of attraction and distrust—he felt it too.

His forehead wrinkled in irritation before his head dropped toward her, bringing their mouths infinitesimally closer.

Suddenly, attraction was definitely winning out over distrust, because Ava knew if he kissed her…

She would kiss him back. Damn it.
Damn it,
that was so not what she needed to be feeling right now.

His eyes left hers to drop to her mouth and Ava felt her lips part, just slightly. It was an unbidden invitation, and from the flare of heat in his eyes he knew it. His mouth lowered, closer, and then—

“Excuse me, Officer?”

Ava jumped back so quickly she teetered on her high heels, and only Luc’s quick reflexes as he grabbed her elbows to steady her kept her upright. The warmth of his palms branded her arms, but he released her just as quickly to turn to the young woman who’d interrupted her.

The girl was early twenties, wearing too tight jeans and a too tight shirt that definitely worked for her toned curves.

She grinned as she caught the full impact of Luc Moretti in uniform. “It
is
you. Oh my gosh, can I get a picture with you? My uncle’s a cop, and he says you’ve done wonders to restore the department’s prestige.”

“Um.” Luc looked pained, and Ava was surprised to feel a surge of sympathy. She still had her suspicions that he secretly relished the attention, but it was clear he was embarrassed at the moment.

It was exactly the moment she needed to shake off the sexual tension.

Ava reached forward and plucked the cute brunette’s phone out of her hand. “Here, I’ll take it.”

“Thanks,” the girl said, her eyes never leaving Luc’s profile as he turned with a grimace toward the camera.

“Okay, I’ll count to three,” Ava said pointedly to the girl whose hand rested on Luc’s abs as she moved in close, apparently oblivious to the camera and Ava.

But the girl knew what she was doing. As Ava got to three, the girl turned her head toward the camera with a well-timed hair flip, and the result was a picture-perfect moment between a stoic cop and an adorable groupie.

Ava handed the phone back to the girl, who took it back reluctantly, likely because the motion meant letting go of Luc.

“So, Officer…” The girl’s eyelashes fluttered. As in actually
fluttered
.

Ava stuck her tongue in her cheek to hide her smirk. This should be good.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I’m on duty,” he said, gesturing down at his gun.

The girl all but salivated and pressed on. “Oh, I know. I was thinking whenever you got off. Or another day, if that would be better.”

Luc’s smile never wavered, but Ava was surprised to see that the polite grin seemed almost pasted on his face, as though he’d rather be anywhere else. Which didn’t make sense. The guy was gorgeous.

“Actually, I’m sort of seeing someone.”

He was?

Luc’s announcement caused more of a tug than it should, but when she looked at him more closely, she noticed the way he wouldn’t meet the girl’s eye.

Officer Moretti was lying. And from the guilty look on his face, he didn’t lie easily.

Ava all but shook her head. As far as excuses went, it was merely
okay
. Not a good enough explanation for a girl who looked like a lingerie model and had confidence radiating off her in waves. Girls like this one would take
I’m seeing someone
as more of a challenge than a rejection.

“Lucky lady,” the brunette said, wiggling closer to Luc. “But look, if it doesn’t work out between you two, I can give you my—”

“Hear that, sweetie? At least
someone
thinks you’re a lucky lady.”

It took Ava several seconds to realize that Luc was talking to her.

Oh no. No freaking way…

But he merely grinned, reaching out a hand and pulling her closer. She opened her mouth to tell him off, but there was something in his gaze—desperation, maybe?—that had her hesitating. Ava let herself be pulled to his side, even sliding her arm around his waist, but the pinch she delivered to his side said he’d pay for the lie later. At least she
tried
to pinch. The man had, like, zero body fat.

The way their bodies pressed together caused a shiver of awareness to come over Ava. A shiver she ignored.

At least until he slid his hand over the small of her back, down over her waist until his fingers splayed over her hip as though they belonged there. And damn it, it felt like they
did
belong there.

Like she belonged
here
. With him.

Oh, this was so not good.

“Oh my god,” the girl said, her hand flattening against her chest. To her credit, she looked genuinely dismayed. “I’m so sorry. When I saw you guys standing here I thought you were arguing—”

“We were,” Ava said.

“Foreplay,” Luc interrupted huskily, as his gaze raked down Ava’s body. “It really revs her motors.”

“Revs my motors?” Ava asked, pushing against him in annoyance. Because annoyance was safer than arousal. “Are you kidding me right now with the woman-as-car metaphors?”

“You like it,” he said, looping his arm casually around her neck while giving the girl a boyish grin.

“You know what else I’d like?” Ava hissed. “If you took your police baton, or whatever it’s called, and shoved it up your—”

His mouth was on her before she could finish the sentence.

It was a quick kiss.

Just a hard stamp of
shut-the-hell
-up
. There was no tongue, just the press of his mouth against hers, lingering only slightly, but the kiss rocked Ava all the same.

Luc, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected, and as soon as his mouth left hers, his eyes sought his admirer who was already walking away.

With a look of relief, he released Ava, who was still feeling a little unsteady from the feel of his lips on hers, however meaningless and quick it had been.

“What the hell was that?” she asked to his retreating back since he was already walking away.

He stopped and turned back. “What was that?” He turned around, but didn’t stop moving as he walked backward. “That, Sims, was a test.”

She started after him. “Yeah? What did it prove?”

“That I like your mouth a hell of a lot better when it’s not yapping. Now, you coming or what?”

Ava glared at his retreating back.

Yup, it was official. America’s Hero
was
a total ass.

But the man could kiss.

L
uc had become a creature of habit.

Which shocked the hell out of him, because as a kid, he’d been all over the place. As a teen, he’d stopped just shy of being unmanageable.

But as an adult?

He was like clockwork.

Not because he was the uptight, rigid type. He wasn’t. But when your career was such that an average week involved transitions between life-threatening situations one day and mind-numbing boredom, it helped to fill everything in between with routine.

Coffee at the same place.

Grilled cheese from the same food cart every Friday.

Somehow, this structured lifestyle had seeped into Luc’s days off as well, because it was no longer a conscious decision to head to his favorite hole-in-the-wall diner for a late breakfast when he was off duty. It was simply what he
did
.

Luc had never been one of those introverted, solitary types. He loved filling most of his spare time with friends, family…women.

But these morning breakfasts?

These mornings were Luc’s time. To reflect. Think. Try to forget.

Which was why on a sunny spring Saturday, nearly a week after the indecent exposure incident at Chelsea Pier, Luc’s feet suddenly seemed incapable of moving when he walked into the Darby Diner and saw
her
.

Ava Sims.

Luc’s reaction to seeing Ava, not just at his favorite restaurant but at his favorite table, was too jumbled to sort out. Anger at her gall. Annoyance at having his solitude ripped away. Panic at what she might find out about him when he didn’t have his uniform to protect him.

Arousal. Definitely arousal.

Luc settled on clinging to the anger, and he let his scowl show it. The line between classy television reporter and stalker-paparazzi was proving very murky indeed.

Luc intended to ignore her. To walk right past her to a different table, to pretend she hadn’t just crossed a very serious boundary of harassing him outside of work.

And he started to do just that.

Right up until the moment he found himself sliding into the seat across from her.

“Sims.”

“Officer.”

Her eyes dropped briefly to his chest, and she blinked a little in surprise. “You’re not in uniform.”

“If you had a uniform, you wouldn’t wear it on your day off either.”

She tilted her head. “What makes you think I don’t have a uniform?”

There was something in her voice that made Luc give her a second look, taking his eyes off her only long enough to give Helen a smile and a wink in exchange for the coffee she poured him without asking.

Helen winked back, sliding two menus on the table, more for Ava’s sake than his.

Luc didn’t order the same thing every time (he wasn’t
that
OCD), but he
did
know the menu by heart.

Ava smiled in thanks as Helen refilled her coffee mug as well, and Luc noted that this was one of her
real
smiles.

The type of smile that made her eyes light and nose crinkle just a little. It was a smile he’d seen her give to about everyone but him.

Damn it. He wanted that smile.

“One of your groupies?” Ava asked, nodding in the direction of Helen after she’d moved on to another table.

“Something like that,” Luc said.

Helen was special to the Morettis. Was special to Luc, especially these days. The elderly waitress was one of the only people who’d always treated Luc like a person. Not a cop. He suspected Helen was the biggest reason the Darby Diner continued to be the Morettis’ favorite Sunday brunch place. Not because the food was outstanding, or the décor was comfortable, or even because it was habit.

But because Helen Carter understood that despite the legacy, the Morettis were a family first. Cops second.

“So your uniform,” Luc continued, not wanting to explain any of this to Sims. “Is this it?”

Luc used his eyes to gesture rather than his hand.

She was wearing another button-down blouse, this one a lime green that made her eyes look almost hazel.

Don’t notice her eyes, dude.

He couldn’t see her bottom half, but considering her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly styled, he figured it was the same tailored dress pants she’d been wearing for the past week.

High heels, almost for sure.

Damn it, now he was hungry. And not for breakfast.

“Let’s just say it’s not
my
day off,” she said, her eyes dropping to her coffee mug.

In spite of himself, Luc was intrigued. “What do you wear on your days off? Be descriptive.”

Right down to the bra. Or tell me you’re wearing no bra.

Yeah, actually, make that
definitely
on the no bra.

Ava cupped her hands around her mug, leaning toward him. “Hey, here’s an idea. How about
you
become a reporter, then
you
get to ask the questions.”

He leaned forward. “And by become a reporter, I assume you mean put on a lot of makeup and ask prying questions?”

Her head snapped back a little, and although her eyes moved down to her coffee before he could read her expression, he felt an instant surge of regret.

Just because he was frustrated didn’t mean he needed to be an ass. She was just doing her job. It occurred to him that maybe he was every bit as much in
her
way as she was in his.

For a second, the old Luc—the one that was good with people—returned, and he touched her hand.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Her eyes lifted, but the wariness remained.

Damn it.

“Sorry,” he said bluntly. “I may not love your career, but belittling it’s a dick move.”

To Luc’s surprise, she merely nodded in acceptance, not making a huffy drama out of it. Instead she reached for one of the vinyl-covered menus.

“What’s good here?”

“Don’t you have my favorites memorized?” he teased.

Her lips twisted into a small smile and she glanced up. “You want to know how I found out about this place, don’t you?”

“I do.”

She tapped her nails against the table, and he noticed that at least two of them were dramatically chipped. It was the only part of her incongruent with an otherwise perfectly manicured persona.

“Sawyer told me. Said your family comes here every Sunday, but that on your days off, you come alone.”

“Figures you got Lopez to talk,” Luc said, taking a sip of coffee. “How’d you get it out of him, agree to go on a date?”

“He tried. I dodged.”

Luc grunted, oddly relieved by this revelation.

“I opted for a lap dance instead,” she deadpanned.

Luc choked on his coffee.

“He even got change for a twenty,” she continued. “And let me tell you, there’s something oddly gratifying about having all those one-dollar bills slide against your skin when he tucks them into your G-string, you know?”

Luc coughed up the coffee that he’d aspirated. “That’s just…no words. I have no words.”

Helen returned to take their order.

Luc got a bacon, spinach, Swiss omelet with fruit instead of potatoes. Ava ordered the same, with the addition of mushrooms.

“Fruit, huh?” she asked when Helen had walked away.

“I like it,” Luc said with a shrug. “Not manly enough for you?”

“Yeah, because that’s what
all
women look for in a man. The right breakfast side-order.”

They both sipped their coffee, and Luc finally asked the crucial question. “What are you doing here, Sims?”

Ava took a deep breath, but to her credit, she met his gaze dead-on. “I wanted to get to know you.”

Well that was…blunt. And interesting.

He leaned in a little. “For the sake of the story? Or for
you
?”

“The story,” she said, the words coming out too quickly, despite the fact that his tone had been deliberately teasing.

Luc sat back and considered.

“Sims, we’ve spent every day of the past week together. You’re practically my second partner on the job, even if you’re in the way more often than not.”

“Hey!”

He held up a hand to stop the protest. “No. You are, and you know it.”

She huffed. “I just wanted to turn on the siren once. Just to try it.”

“Uh huh. You’re telling me it had nothing to do with the fact that it was rush hour and you had to pee?”

She waved this away. “Look, I know that I’ve been…annoying. But I’m just trying to do my job.”

He groaned. “Enough with that. We both want to do our jobs without the other getting in our way, but that’s not going to happen, is it? In order for me to do my job well, I need you to go away. For
you
to do your job well, you need me to kiss your ass.”

She leaned forward, her eyes as intense as he’d seen them. “You don’t have to kiss my ass, Moretti. Truly. I just need you to talk to me.”

“I do talk to you.”

“No, you grunt, growl, and lecture.”

Luc took a sip of coffee to hide his surprise at the accusation.

Luc was not the grunting, growling type.

Not to toot his own horn or anything, but truth be told, Luc had always thought of himself as being fairly, well…likable.

Of all the Moretti clan, Luc was the quickest to smile and according to his mother, the easiest to talk to.

That last one, of course, could have been due to his mother buttering him up so he’d come over and help her move her recipes from ragged index cards to “the cloud” on the new laptop his dad had bought.

But with or without his mother’s praise, Luc was sure of one thing:

This was the first time a woman had ever accused him of being an irritable prick.

And although he was tempted to snap back that it was only
her
that drew out this grumpy, unlikable version of himself, the truth was he felt a little ashamed of himself.

Like those assholes who disdained all law enforcement for life because of one “undeserved” speeding ticket when they were seventeen, Luc had been making similar stereotypes about the media based on his own desire for privacy.

Ava was right. She was just doing her job.

And he may not like it, but that didn’t authorize being a complete dick.

After Helen had delivered their breakfast, Luc picked up his fork and made a decision. He wasn’t going to bend over backward for her.

He still thought this story was bullshit.

But…

“All right, Sims. I’ll talk.”

She was about to take a bite of egg, but her fork paused halfway to her mouth. “Seriously?”

“Today only,” he said, liberally adding pepper to his dish. “Don’t be expecting the welcome mat at the precinct on Monday, and this isn’t a free pass to turn on the siren whenever you get hungry, and you still have to pay that parking ticket. But I respect that you have three hours of stupid television to put together. So for today…shoot.”

He half expected her to go all rabid on him, pulling out a notebook or worse, a recorder, and firing question after question, but she merely chewed her omelet and looked thoughtful.

“Thank you,” she said finally.

“You’re welcome.”

She smiled. “We’re having a moment, aren’t we?”

“Sims, if this is your idea of a moment, your social life must be seriously up a creek.”

“Speaking of social life,” she said, plopping a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth.

Here we go…

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

The question was more direct than he’d expected, and Luc had to remind himself she was asking as a reporter, not as an interested party.

“Nope.”

“Ex?”

“I’m twenty-eight. I should
hope
I had a couple exes under my belt by now.”

“But anyone serious?” She took a sip of coffee.

“I don’t do serious, Sims.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Ever?”

Luc shrugged. “Lots of cops don’t.”

“Because of the frequent brush-with-death thing?”

He was silent for a moment as he pictured Mike. And Mike’s funeral. Then he remembered Mike’s widow and son sobbing silently in the front row of the church…

His fingers clenched into a fist beneath the table, and he forced himself to take a long, slow breath.
This
was why Ava Sims was dangerous to him. It would only take a few well-placed questions, and the entire world would know that their hero-cop was so far from a hero it wasn’t even funny.

“Let’s just say I know a few too many cop widows—and widowers, for that matter—to ever put a woman I cared about through that.”

“But your entire family is cops. Surely they don’t all feel that way.”

“No,” he granted. “My parents have been happily married for over three decades. And my brother Marco is halfway to the altar already. The other two…hell, I doubt they could
pay
a woman to put up with them for life, so it doesn’t really matter.”

She opened her mouth as though to argue, but Luc beat her to it.

“Cops don’t make good husbands, Sims.” He softened the statement with a smile.

It was hardly the first time he’d had this conversation with a woman. Luc was always careful to set expectations upfront, but some women seemed to think they were the exception to the rule.

But Luc’s commitment to non-marriage was one rule he had no intention of breaking.

Ava surprised him. “No judgment here. Marriage is…” she paused, as though searching for the right word. “Crap,” she finished.

Luc washed a bite of bacon down with a sip of water, surprised by her succinct dismissal of marriage.

It wasn’t that he thought all women were secretly trying on wedding dresses in their spare time, but in his experience it was rare to run into a woman who was so openly
anti
.

And though he was tempted to ask why…to know what made her tick, he took the easy path instead.

“Sims.” He let his eyes go wide in bafflement. “Did we just have something in common?”

She smiled, and it was a pretty thing, this genuine smile instead of the knee-jerk smile he was used to seeing from her. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Deal. So what else do you have for me? You’ve got until I clean my plate to pick my brain, because once I’m on duty, chitchat is off-limits.”