It's A Wonderfully Sexy Life (13 page)

The second man, a local, answered, “Mandy Delinski. She’s a Bawlmer City cop.” Casually dressed in jeans and a navy cable-knit sweater that hung on his thin frame, he reached for his beer.

One deep-set eye wandering back to the wall-mounted TV, the suit said, “Is that so? I ain’t seen many cops that look like her. What a knockout.”

Tone sulky, his table mate said, “She’s okay if you like that type. You’re planning on taking her out too, right?”

The heavy-set man known as Tommy the Terminator answered with an expansive shrug that caused the buttons fronting his double-breasted jacket to pull but only slightly. Finding suits that fit had used to be a major problem. Fortunately one of the mob-owned businesses back in Boston was a tailoring shop that specialized in custom-made clothing for “big and tall” men.

“Not necessarily,” he said, taking a swig of his beer. “It could go either way depending on the circumstances. My contract terms are to liquidate Thornton on or before the first of January. I get paid by the contract, not the head.” He paused, squinted gaze narrowing. “Why, you got some beef with her?” He set the mug down and looked his companion dead in the eye, waiting.

His table mate hesitated. He had a beef with Mandy Delinski, a big one, but it wouldn’t do to give that away, not just yet. Swallowing hard, he chose his words with care. “Lady cops, the whole situation just pisses me off. Women ought to know their place—on their backs or on their knees if you know what I mean.” He chuckled, stopping when the hit man didn’t join in.

Index finger pointed out like a pistol, Tommy leaned across the table, prompting the thinner man to arch back in his chair. “That better be all because this is a business arrangement, strictly business and nothing personal. Got it?”

The thin man felt sweat breaking out beneath his L.L. Bean pullover, but knowing that someone with “Terminator” attached to his name must be trained to smell fear, he reached for his cool. “Yeah, sure, man. No problem, I got it.”

Tommy settled back in his seat and reached for the bowl of salted peanuts. “You better get it, asshole, ’cause if I end up having to off the broad, too, I figure I might as well go three for three.”

There she was putting herself down again and at the same time painting him as some kind of player. He lifted his head from the pillow to look down at her. “I haven’t been with all that many women, you know.”

“Come on, with your looks and position, you must have to fight them off.”

“My position?” He hesitated, heart diving directly into his stomach. Had he blown his cover already and without even knowing he’d slipped up?

“I just meant that being a bartender you must come into contact with a lot of women.”

Picking up on the insecurity in her voice, he settled back onto the pillow, pulling her against his chest. “That doesn’t mean I sleep with them all, and I wasn’t always a bartender. It’s sort of an interim career for me.” She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it without a word. Before she could ask any more questions to do with his supposed occupation, he changed the subject. “It’s supposed to be a beautiful day for December, sunny and a lot warmer than it’s been. What do you say to us going out later?”

She snapped up her head, nearly clipping him on the chin. “You want to leave the apartment?”

He’d thought she’d be pleased, instead she sounded anything but. Hoping she hadn’t taken his suggestion to mean he didn’t like being in bed with her, he moved into damage control mode. “I want us to do something together, a real date. We could walk around the Inner Harbor, catch the Christmas decorations while they’re still up, and then take the water taxi over to Fells Point. I still haven’t tried Bertha’s famous mussels.”

She slid a hand beneath the covers and wrapped her hand around his cock which went from semi to full hard-on at her touch. “Are you sure you won’t want to just stay in? We could order in Chinese or pizza, and I could try out your muscle—again.”

She was so incredibly sexy and warm and generous, the temptation to just hang out with her in bed for days and nights on end was enormous. He was coming to suspect her giving nature had caused her to be taken advantage of in the past, particularly by men, which might explain why she often seemed so skeptical of her own appeal. And yet he hadn’t exaggerated what he’d said they’d shared was the hands-down most satisfying sex of his life.

But then sometimes you had to know bad in order to recognize good, make that
amazing
. Sex with Tiffany had been like an overly choreographed musical—the moves might come off as perfectly correct, even acrobatic, but there was no feeling in it, no emotional connection. It wasn’t that he’d minded Tiffany telling him what felt good, that wasn’t it at all. What had really worn on him was her attitude. She’d acted as though she was doing him some kind of favor, as though sex was a commodity she was doling out rather than an experience they shared. Toward the end, he’d felt like he was on the losing end of a competition with her vibrator, which she’d actually named “Dick” of all things. Looking back on the experience, it occurred to him that walking in on her with the lawn care kid had been a lucky break in a way, a reason for ending a relationship that had never worked all that well anyway.

Making love to Mandy was an entirely new, entirely fulfilling experience he hoped to repeat many, many times. Hell, he couldn’t imagine getting enough of her—ever. He’d never before come close to losing himself in a woman the way he had done with her. Even teasing her with the toy had been playful and fun because of how receptive she was, how sensual, how entirely open and trusting. He wouldn’t have thought watching something other than him glide inside her would be such an incredible turn-on, but it definitely had been if only because of the way she’d responded to him.

And yet despite the intimacy of the acts they’d shared, other than their coffee date, they hadn’t been out as a couple. The very last thing he wanted her to think was that he was just using her for sex. Oh, he wanted to have sex with her all right, that was a given, but he wanted more than that, too. Mandy was what he’d come to think of as a total package, a quality woman. She deserved to be taken out on the town, not just taken to bed. If caring about a proper courtship made him come off as stuffy and old-fashioned, then so be it. It was important to him to do things the right way with her because…well, because Mandy was important to him. Though he still wasn’t sure how or even if their lives might mesh, he didn’t want her to look back on their time together and remember him as just another jerk who’d used her.

But it was next to impossible to think clearly or even at all with her touching him, so he reached down and gently disengaged her hand. Lacing her fingers through his, he brought her palm to his lips. “I really want to take you out on a real date. Is that so wrong?”

Meeting his eyes, she hesitated and then nodded. “No, of course it’s not wrong. I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Pleased, he flashed a smile and slipped his arm out from under her head. Getting up, he headed toward the bathroom. “I’ll go run the shower water. The pipes are old and it takes a while for the water to heat. Give me a minute and then join me, okay?”

She sat up in bed. “Okay.”

Resting her chin atop her tented knees, she watched him head into the bathroom, marveling at how incredibly thoughtful and romantic he was, how unlike any man she’d ever been with before. Not only was he hot and smart and fun to be with and yes, a truly amazing lover, but he was so sweet to her, too, so thoughtful and tender. Until now she’d thought guys like that only existed between the covers of paperback romance novels. Even with the smell of his skin and the warmth of his body imprinted in the sheet beside her, she had trouble believing he was real. But Josh was real all right, the real thing. He’d already received all she had to give and yet he still insisted on taking her out on a date. The gentlemanliness of the gesture caught at her heart even as her fear factor spiked. Fells Point was where the murder, Josh’s murder, had taken place. Wouldn’t returning to the scene of the crime be tempting fate? On the other hand, maybe as long as they avoided Thames Street, and The Daily Grind and Recreation Pier specifically, they’d be all right? Either way, it was obvious he was determined to go out. If promising a rematch of the previous night’s intense sexual pleasure couldn’t convince him to stay safely inside, she didn’t know what else she could possibly do. At least if they went together, she’d have a chance of protecting him.

The sounds of the shower running pulled her back to the present. She threw off the covers, slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. On the way, she pulled his Boston Red Sox T-shirt over her head and then off.

Shaking out her hair and enjoying the feel of it against her breasts and back, it occurred to her that just a few days before, strolling naked across a room, even an empty room, would have been an activity reserved for her thinner fantasy self but never acted out in real life. This time with Josh had changed a lot of things, including her image of herself. Based on the number of times they made love and the intensity of each encounter, her body obviously pleased him just as it was. With the pressure to be perfect removed, she found herself spending a lot less time and energy thinking and worrying about food. If she was hungry, she’d eat, if she wasn’t, well, it wouldn’t hurt her to miss a meal. After all these years of calorie counting and binge eating, could it really be as simple as that?

She had one hand on the bathroom doorknob when her cell phone sounded off to the tune of “Jingle Bells.” She ran to catch it, managing to dig it out of her purse and pick up just before her voice mail kicked in. When she didn’t recognize the local number at first glance, she decided she’d better err on the safe side and use her “work voice” to answer. “Delinski speaking.”

“Hey, Mands, it’s me, Mikey.”

“Hey, Mikey, what’s up?”

“Remember how you said I should call you if I was to come across any, uh…out-of-town customers?”

Heart ramping up for a full-on race, she said, “Yes.”

“Well, I did, late last night in fact, and so I am.”

Picking up on the nervous quaver in his voice, she decided her shower with Josh would have to wait. “Hold tight, Mikey. I can be down there in twenty minutes.”

“Meeting here’s no good, besides I’m working a double shift. There’s no way I can get away today, but I’m off work tomorrow. Meet me at Duda’s in Fells Point, say around noon. I’ll buy you a crab-cake sandwich. They use all lump meat, you know, not like those schlock tourist traps at Harbor Place where they charge you an arm and a leg for a ball of breadcrumbs with a few crab flakes mixed in. Those chain restaurants, they’ll rob you blind. And they call me the criminal.”

Dialing down her impatience, Mandy said, “Okay, I’ll be there, only lunch is on me, so screw the sandwich and go for the platter.”

“Thanks, Mands, you’re the best. See you then.”

“Bye, Mikey.”

She clicked off the cell just as Josh called out from the shower, “Are you coming in or do I have to turn into a prune all by myself?”

Her gaze darted to the closed bathroom door. The thought of Josh gloriously naked and glistening wet waiting behind it brought a warm tingle of anticipation building between her legs. “I’m on my way.”

Though signing on to guard a hot hunk with a heart of gold was a rare comingling of duty and pleasure, duty still took precedence. Before joining him, she made a detour to the dresser and slipped her gun inside her purse.