Beneath the Badge (First Responders) (4 page)

There was something different about him tonight. Yesterday he’d been friendly and kind and had stayed well into the evening to help. Now it was like she was a nuisance. Intruding. She suddenly felt her face heat. What if he had plans? A date? Surprising someone like Matt had been foolish, hadn’t it? She was the one who spent most evenings alone, wasn’t she? He was the kind of guy who had a healthy and active social calendar.

She attempted to sound breezy. “I just wanted to say thanks for all your help yesterday. I should really get back.”

She put the bag on the floor. Never mind there was enough food in there for two. She’d embarrassed herself enough already.

Matt sighed and came forward. “I’m sorry, Lindsay. I didn’t mean to sound…” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, like he was working out a kink, “

like an asshole.”

“Hey, I showed up uninvited. No biggie.”

“How are the puppies?”

She met his gaze, smiled a little. “Good. Nothing major wrong with them besides being a bit underweight. With a few days of proper care they’re going to be terrors, no doubt about it. One of the techs has taken them home with her until they’re ready for fostering or adoption.”

He smiled back, just a little, but it warmed his eyes so he didn’t look so intimidating. “Look, I need a quick shower, but will you stay? I’m guessing there’s enough food in there for both of us, and once I clean up I’m bound to be starving.”

“You’re sure? I understand if you have other plans…”

He laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous kind. More like sarcastic. “No plans, trust me.” He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t been fit to be around the general public today.”

She longed to ask why, but knew she probably wouldn’t want to know the answer so kept her mouth shut.

“I don’t want to impose…”

He sighed. “Just stay, okay? Give me five minutes.”

She nodded, picking up the bag. “Okay.”

She followed him through the cavern that was the gym and into a space that wasn’t much homier. The kitchen wasn’t really a kitchen at all, but a corner with appliances on one wall and a work space in the form of a long counter top. There was no table and chairs, just four tall bar stools in front of the counter. The back wall was nearly all windows, each one divided into maybe twenty smaller squares of glass. At one point Lindsay thought this place had housed a clothing manufacturer, but she couldn’t be sure. Early evening sun poured through the glass now, illuminating dust on the scarred hardwood floor. The guy would need an industrial mop to keep this floor shiny. Especially since the only other furniture was a huge sectional sofa and a coffee table holding a selection of magazines and a few paperbacks. There wasn’t even a television.

“I’ll be right back. There are plates in the cupboard and forks in the drawers.” He grinned. “I don’t have much. You won’t have trouble finding anything.”

Not much indeed. As the shower started running, she opened the first cupboard she came to. The dishes were mismatched and there weren’t many of them. She pulled out two plates, two glasses that looked like they were the gas-station-giveaway type, and in the second drawer she tried she found forks and knives.

The shower stopped running and her hands paused on the foil pan holding noodles. This wasn’t really domestic, but it was strange putting out food while Matt cleaned up. While he was standing in his bathroom buck naked…

That was not why she was here. It was not…

Except she thought maybe it was. Because she couldn’t get that kiss out of her head, and thanking him for his help was a very convenient excuse for showing up.

“That smells good,” he said, emerging from the bathroom.

He’d changed into jeans and a plain white T-shirt, leaving his feet bare. His hair was so short that it needed nothing more than running his hand through it. She made herself reach in the bag for a second item just to avoid staring. “You hungry yet?”

“I could eat,” he responded, pulling up a bar stool. “There’s beer in the fridge if you want one. Otherwise…water. I haven’t grocery shopped in a while.”

“Water’s fine for me.”

“Me too.”

She filled two glasses and then peeled the lids away from the food. “Noodles, vegetables, some fried tofu for me and I got you an order of cashew chicken.”

“There’s enough food here for an army,” he said, but she noticed it didn’t stop him from grabbing a set of chopsticks and adding items to his plate.

She filled her own plate and came around the counter to sit on the stool next to him. “This place is huge. And I noticed you don’t have a TV. I figured a guy like you…you’d have one of those big screen deals.”

“I travel light,” he commented, wrapping noodles around his chopsticks. “I don’t watch a lot of TV, and if I want to catch a game or something I can always head to the pub.”

“Don’t your dates mind?”

He looked sideways at her and his lips tipped up at the corner. “Not so much. And it’s not like I have a million of them.”

She snorted. “Could’ve fooled me.” She speared a hunk of tofu with her chopstick.

“Jealous?”

This was what she’d missed, she realized. The rich insinuation in his voice that meant he was flirting. She’d enjoyed that the other night—well, in retrospect, anyway. She gave another snort. “Me? Jealous? Not likely.”

His knee touched hers. “You sure?”

Tingles ran up her leg at the subtle contact. “I’m sure,” she answered, but her vocal chords felt tight. Like the rest of her. She knew Matt Parker spelled trouble, so why was she here? To scratch an itch?

“Then why are you here?” he asked, echoing her thoughts. “Because you could have just called and said thanks for the help.”

“You did say the next time I owed you dinner. I always pay my debts.” She snagged a piece of broccoli and popped it into her mouth.

“Hmm. I thought it might be something else. That you wanted to pick up where we left off.”

“You seemed to have a pretty good love affair going with your heavy bag. What’s up with that?”

The cloud descended over his face again for a moment until he wiped it clean away, making her wonder if she’d actually seen it at all.

“Just working out some frustrations.” His left hand strayed over to her knee, suggesting what those frustrations might have been.

“What sorts of frustrations?”

He considered her question for a moment, removed his hand from her thigh. “I’m not a particularly nice guy, Lindsay. I’ve seen and done a lot of things. Because of it, sometimes simple things have a weird context for me, that’s all.”

“Are you depressed, Matt?” She put down her chopsticks as she asked the question, suddenly no longer hungry. Matt appeared fun and that fun side seemed to be what appealed to her most. But she knew too well that it could be a cover. A bright face to the world and a troubled mind beneath.

She’d only been eight years old when a troubled mind had won the battle with her mother. That had just been the beginning. There’d been over a decade more of living in a single-parent home where she’d spent too much energy trying to make things good and right. She’d finally made her stand with veterinary medicine rather than medical school. She’d done what she wanted rather than what was expected to make people happy.

“Depressed? I don’t think so.” He frowned into his noodles. “Affected by what I’ve seen? Definitely. These are good noodles.”

Changing the subject. She was partly annoyed and partly relieved.

“You certainly took something out on the bag today,” she replied. “If it’s about yesterday…the animals are all fine, you know. Or they will be.”

“That’s good.” He toyed with his chicken. “It was a harder call than I expected, that’s all. I hate to see any creature abused and defenseless. Seeing those conditions, knowing that guy didn’t care…”

Her heart expanded. There was a depth of compassion to Matt she hadn’t expected beneath the charm he showed the world. If that was what this was about…it was a good thing. Everyone had their way of dealing with bad days. Taking it out on a punching bag sounded pretty healthy and well-adjusted to her.

Then there was the gentle way he’d handled the puppies, the patience he’d shown.

As she took a sip of cool water, he lifted a wad of noodles with his chopsticks. They were nearly to his mouth when a clump fell off and landed on his shirt.

He put down the sticks and looked down at his lap. “Well. That was classy.”

She chuckled as he picked up the offending noodles and threw them on a spare napkin. The sauce left a greasy brown mark down the middle of his white T-shirt.

He got up off the stool. “Looks like I’m going to have to change again.”

She nodded, looking up at him and catching his gaze. Something forbidden swirled through her down low, a longing so strong that it nearly took her breath. She rarely dated. She could count the sum total of her partners on one hand and she was past thirty. But Matt Parker made her feel carnal. He was a potent combination of masculinity and confidence, and it had been a long time since she’d let herself be close to someone.

She slid off the stool so she was facing him. Her heart beat faster, jumping against her ribs as she swallowed and held his gaze. She remembered his assessment of her that first night at Jake’s.
“Neat and tidy,”
he’d said.
“Order and control.”

And that was generally true, but sometimes a girl got an itch she felt like scratching. And while she also remembered commenting that he was more complicated than he let on, she knew Matt Parker wasn’t looking for anything deep or long term. And that suited her just fine.

She reached out and put her palm against the soft cotton of his shirt. “You’d better get this off, then. That’s likely to stain.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Lindsay,” he warned, but she slid her fingers down the center of his chest to where the hem of the T-shirt touched the button of his jeans.

“This is only our second date,” he said, his voice husky and intimate.

“Technically, we haven’t been on any dates. So who’s counting?” She smiled saucily. “You don’t strike me as the kind to have rules about that sort of thing.”

“You do.”

She shrugged. “You might be surprised.” She did have a rebellious streak that reared its head now and again. This seemed as good a time as any. It had been a heck of a dry spell.

She slid her hand up his arm and over his shoulder and gripped the fabric in her fingers. She gave it a tug and he leaned forward a little and somehow the tee seemed to slide right off his skin. She held it in her fingertips for a few moments, once again admiring the taut, lean figure of his torso and shoulders. God, but the man was stacked.

The shirt fell to the floor.

“I thought you said the stain would set,” he said, but there was a note of anticipation in his voice, riding over her nerve endings like satin.

“What stain?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She reached out and touched a fingertip to the top ridge of his abs. “How long’d it take you to get these?” she asked.

Apparently he wasn’t about to let her stall. “Shut up, Dr. Swan,” he instructed, and put his hands on her hips, pulling her closer until her tummy was pressed against the hard zipper of his jeans.

“Shutting up, Officer,” she whispered, running her hand over his smooth, warm skin. She touched her lips to the soft spot between his shoulder and pecs and he took a quick breath. He wasn’t as in control as he wanted her to believe, and she delighted in the knowledge. Maybe they were both in for a few surprises.

Then she squealed as he swooped his arm beneath her knees and lifted her up. “You haven’t seen the bedroom yet,” he pointed out, and as she looped her arms around his neck he kicked the T-shirt out of the way and carried her out of the kitchen.

Chapter Three

Matt had to close his eyes for a moment as Lindsay touched her lips to the skin of his neck. Had he really thought she was uptight? Shy? Her tongue tasted the hollow below his ear and a dart of fire went straight to his crotch—not that he needed any help in that department. All it had taken was a single touch of her fingers on his shirt and the sound of her surprisingly sultry voice to have him standing at almost painful attention.

It was exhilarating to find that beneath the white lab coat and professional demeanor there was also a sensual, sexual woman. One who was currently in his arms and fully clothed. He’d have to remedy that. Soon.

He put her down on the bed and didn’t give her a chance to get away, instead sliding over the top of her and bracing up on his hands. She felt so good pressed against his body. “You going to change your mind?” he asked, giving her an out if she needed it. He really, really hoped she didn’t need it, but he also got the feeling she wasn’t the kind of woman who did this sort of thing often. He could ask why now or why him, but he didn’t really care. What he cared about was feeling alive and less angry than he’d felt an hour ago while pounding the living shit out of his heavy bag.

“You getting all serious on me now?” she asked lightly, but there was a look of warning in her eyes. For whatever reason, Lindsay was as determined to keep this as light as he was. Just the way he liked it.

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