Over. And over. You think I could stop at kissing?”
A shiver moved down her spine at the change in his tone. “What else did you have in mind?”
“Do you really want to know? Think very carefully before you decide.”
She swallowed with difficulty. Interesting didn’t begin to cover this man. “Tell me.”
He moved closer, his chest brushing her back.
Enough to tease her, make her want to arch against him just enough to say, the next move is yours. His mouth hovered an inch away from her ear when he spoke. “After watching that show you just put on, I have a lot of things in mind.” One hand left the bar to brush her hip. Ruby couldn’t stop herself from backing up, bringing her body flush against his. Troy hummed in satisfaction at her boldness. “Next time you bend over a table, I’m going to wrap all that hair around my fist and pull your head back. I want to watch your eyes glaze over when I fuck you into oblivion.”
Heat shot through her entire body and settled
between her thighs. She could hear her own quick intakes of breath, her accelerated heartbeat. The air she dragged into her lungs felt thick. This never happened to her. Her carefully constructed aloofness never deserted her, especially around men. But when Troy slid his hand from her hip to her belly, she shuddered under the simple contact.
“I didn’t say you could touch me.” Ruby forced the words out, her breath harsh to her own ears.
“Oh, baby. Yes, you did. Maybe not with words.” A single finger traced the waistband of her jeans. Slowly.
Invitingly. “Come home with me. Let me worship that beautiful body. All goddamn night.”
She regained some of her composure then. What the hell was she doing? She’d stopped into O’Hanlon’s to make a quick buck and bail. Instead, she was letting this near-stranger put his hands on her. Talk to her in a way that should feel wrong, but didn’t. At all. It felt sinfully good. Still, she didn’t make a habit of going home with men she’d just met. Or engaging in casual sex. She needed to put some distance between them so she could think clearly.
Ruby pushed off the table and moved away from him, already regretting the loss of contact. “I’m not going home with you.” She glanced over his shoulder where Troy’s two buddies still sat at the bar, one attempting to flirt with a blond, the other playboy-looking guy leaning back in his stool, the redheaded bartender parked between his outstretched thighs.
“Why don’t you follow their lead? You’d have a better chance of getting laid with someone else.”
He shook his head once. “Not interested in someone else.”
Frowning, she studied his features and found nothing but honesty. Where the hell had this guy come from? How could someone she’d just met make her want to break her own rules? She wanted to go home with him, she realized with a jolt of surprise. To see exactly what worshiping her body entailed. She’d never been so tempted in her life. It scared her a little how much. “That’s too bad. I have a train to catch back to Brooklyn.”
Troy scoffed. “You’re not taking the subway this late. It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning.”
“Excuse me?” She laughed in disbelief. “I’ve been taking the train since I could walk.”
He considered her for a moment, then shrugged.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
She hesitated. “What do you mean ‘let’s’?”
“I’ll ride with you to make sure the enemy you just made doesn’t follow you home to take his money back.
Then I’ll walk you to your door and leave.”
No way. Couldn’t let it happen. She didn’t want him to see where she lived. Not that she felt ashamed, exactly, of her microscopic studio apartment located above the Chinese takeout place.
“Your concern is touching, but I don’t need an escort.” He looked nowhere close to budging. “Fine, I’ll just take a cab.”
“You won’t get a cab in this snow storm.”
“You know the city pretty well for being new in town.”
He regarded her curiously. “How did you know I was new in town? I didn’t tell you that.”
“Lucky guess.”
Troy was silent for a moment, contemplating her.
“There’s an easy solution to this. You stay at my place. I take the couch. I’ll drive you home myself in the morning, when I haven’t been drinking.”
She could probably lose him if she wanted to.
Weave through the crowded bar, duck out the door, and shortcut down a side street before he even got his coat on. It’s what she would do under most circumstances.
Another part of her, however, wanted to appease her curiosity. To see where he lived, to find out what made him tick. She didn’t want to say good night just yet.
And at the end of the day, she’d always loved a good gamble.
“Let me see your wallet.”
His head jerked back. “What?”
“Let me look through your wallet,” she repeated.
“Then I’ll decide if I can trust you enough to stay with you tonight.”
Troy barked a laugh. “I just watched you fleece a guy for a chunk of cash and you want me to voluntarily hand you my wallet?”
“How can I trust you if you can’t trust me?” They were both still a moment, eyeballing each other in the middle of the rowdy bar. Finally, with an expression that said he couldn’t believe his own decision, he reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet onto the table. She stared down in shock at the black leather wallet clipped to a shiny NYPD badge. “You’re a cop?”
“Detective, yes.”
“Now I know I can’t trust you.”
“Explain that logic.”
She gestured to the pool table where a new game
had started. “You just watched me fleece a guy, as you put it, and did nothing to stop me.”
“I’m not on the clock.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes. Damn, she usually had the ability to pick out cops from a mile away. How he’d managed to slip under her radar, she couldn’t fathom. She reached down and picked up the wallet, weighing it in her hands for a moment before she flipped it open. The first thing that caught her eye was a picture of an older couple, presumably his parents. A point in his favor. They looked happy, the older man who shared Troy’s good looks, and the much shorter merry-looking woman he had his arm thrown around.
Pushing aside a flash of melancholy, she moved on.
Gym membership, credit card, condom. She flashed him a look. He shrugged. No pictures of any kids or wifey-looking chicks. No frequent buyer card for a massage parlor. No Post-it reminders to chop up and eat anyone. He appeared to check out.
Ruby was nearing the end of her inspection when another picture grabbed her attention. Troy standing next to a man, about the same age, both wearing police uniforms. Wrigley Field towered behind them in the background. Abruptly, the wallet was snatched from her hands.
“Finished?”
She looked at him curiously. “Who is that?”
With jerky motions, he yanked his coat off the back of his chair and pulled it on around his broad shoulders.
Ruby followed suit with her own coat, watching him as she did so. Something about the picture had struck a nerve. In seconds, his demeanor had gone from teasing to rigid.
“My ex-partner, Grant,” he explained finally. “Did I pass muster? Can we go now?”
She’d always been too curious for her own good.
“Why ex-partner? What happened?” As the words left her mouth, she realized what was coming and immediately wanted to take back her question.
Troy sighed, pinning her with a look. “He’s dead. Shot during a raid earlier this year.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered before he’d even finished his explanation. Her stomach felt hollow.
She wanted to rewind the last minute and start fresh, make him smile again. An odd reaction to have over someone she’d just met,
but there it was. Damn her nosiness. With a shaky swallow, she reached over and took his hand. “Let’s go.”
With a curt nod in his friends’ direction, he led her from the bar.