One Night With You: A Fatal Series Prequel Novella (The Fatal Series) (3 page)

She found a corner to occupy while she kept an eye on Angela, who was talking to a group of guys across the deck. She didn’t think any of them was Spencer, but she wasn’t sure since she couldn’t see their faces. She’d met him once before and thought she’d recognize him if she saw him. Angela was smiling and laughing and engaging in the conversation, so Sam left her alone and let her do her thing.

Hopefully, Spencer would show up soon and Sam could have a word with him before leaving. At times like this, she enjoyed making sure a guy was aware of what she did for a living so he’d know better than to fuck with her sister.
 

She’d made the mistake of relaxing into her corner of the deck when one douche bag pushed another douche bag, sending beer flying out of a red plastic cup and all over her.
Motherfuckers
.

“Oh my God,” one of them said. “I’m so sorry. Let me help.”

“Hands off,” Sam growled at him.

He backed up immediately, hands in the air. “My apologies. What can I do? Napkins? Paper towels? What’s your pleasure?”

“A paper towel or three would be good,” Sam said as she held her soaking wet skirt away from her body.

“Coming right up.”

Since she fully expected never to see him again, she wrung the beer out of her skirt, grimacing at the nasty smell and the stickiness it left behind on her hands. Now she really wanted to get the hell out of here.

A starched white handkerchief entered her line of vision. She glanced up at its owner and every thought that wasn’t about his supreme hotness left her brain in one big whoosh. He was tall—easily six-foot-four or five—with olive-toned skin, kind hazel eyes, thick dark brown hair that curled at the ends and a mouth that had her immediately thinking about how long it had been since she’d had sex.

“I saw you take a direct hit,” he said in a deep voice that had her leaning in closer so she wouldn’t miss a word. “Thought this might be useful.”

And then she realized he was offering her his handkerchief and waiting for her to take it from him. “Oh, um, that’s really nice of you, but I’d hate to ruin it. Looks like a nice one.”

He shrugged. “I have others.”

Rattled by his presence and the way he looked at her, she took the cloth from him and used it to mop up some of the liquid still dripping from her skirt. “NDC,” she said of the navy blue initials embroidered on the white linen. He wore a navy pinstripe suit with a crisp white dress shirt and no tie.
 

“Nicholas Domenic Cappuano, at your service, but I go by Nick.”

“So you’re Irish, huh?”

Even his laughter was sexy. “Full-blooded.”

“Me, too. Sam Holland.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam Holland.”

Was it possible to come from the way a hot guy said your name? Sam never would’ve thought so before now. “You, too. Thanks for the assist.”

“My pleasure.”

Did everything he said scream “sex,” or did he only have that effect on her? The thought nearly made her laugh out loud. Who was she kidding? There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t want to jump all over him. He probably had to beat them off him with a stick.
 

“That’s probably as good as it’s going to get,” Sam said of her stained skirt. “One of my favorites, too.”

“I can see why. So what brings you here tonight?”

Appreciating the smoothly delivered compliment, she said, “My sister.” Sam nodded at Angela, who’d apparently connected with Spencer while Sam was being doused with beer. Angela beamed with happiness as she talked to a handsome guy who hung on her every word. “I’m her wing-woman tonight. What about you?”

“Some guys from the gym talked me into coming when all I wanted was a steak, a glass of red and bed—in that order.”

She marveled at how similar to her dream evening his had been—only hers had been more of a pizza and beer variety than steak and red. “Sounds so much better than this meat market.”

He chuckled at the term. “I take it you were a reluctant attendee, too?”

“You could say that. I worked eleven hours today, three of them in the scorching sun, and all I wanted was a cold shower and eight hours unconscious.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a cop with the Metro PD. Recently promoted to detective, in fact.”

“Congratulations. That’s fantastic. Aren’t you young for that rank?”

“Not you, too,” Sam said with a groan. “My dad is a bigwig in the department, so all I hear about is nepotism and special favors. No one likes to think I earned it the old-fashioned way. I busted my ass—and continue to bust my ass every day.”

“I have no doubt you earned it. Your dad must be proud.”

“You could say that,” Sam said with a small smile, indicating the understatement of the century.

“Who’s the dude talking to your sister?”

“He’s the reason we’re here.”

Nick took a closer look at Spencer, who was listening intently to Angela. “Doesn’t seem like a total douche bag.”

“Not total,” Sam said with a smile, digging him more by the minute. The last thing she’d expected when she came to this party was to meet someone like him. “So many of these guys… They’re all such…
players
. Do they think we can’t see right through their shit?”

“Truth?”

“Of course.”

“Most of them don’t realize they’re full of shit.”

Sam laughed harder than she could recall having laughed in recent memory. The beer on her skirt was forgotten, along with the stink and the stickiness and anything that didn’t involve him and all his gorgeousness and charm.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked.

“More than I’ve wanted anything ever.”

He nodded toward Angela. “Are you her ride?”
 

“She was mine.”

“Even better.” He pulled keys from his pants pocket and held them up for her to see. “Shall we?”

“You’re not like a serial killer posing as a successful DC yuppie or something, are you?”

“What if I am?”

Very subtly, she looked around to make sure no one was paying any attention to them. Then she lifted her skirt ever so slightly so he could see the service weapon that was strapped to her thigh.
 

His eyes widened and then heated with interest.

“But wait, there’s more.” From her purse, she withdrew the shiny gold shield that represented her proudest accomplishment. “Any questions?”

“Just one.”

She raised a brow.

“Do you believe in sex at first sight? Because that was like the hottest freaking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Flustered but pleased by his reaction to her little demonstration, she decided to play along. “Like
ever
?”

“
Ever
.” He leaned in closer and spoke directly into her ear. “Go tell your sister you’re leaving.”

With her entire body buzzing from the high of her encounter with Nick, Sam made her way across the crowded deck to where Angela giggled madly at something Spencer had said. Then she noticed Sam and grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her into their circle.
 

“You remember my little sister, Sam, right?” she asked Spencer.

He shook Sam’s hand. “Of course. Good to see you again, Sam.”

“You, too.”

Angela wrinkled her nose. “Have you been bathing in beer?”

“Some asshole dumped a cupful on me.” Sam leaned in closer to her sister. “Listen, Ang… I’m going to split. Looks like you’ve got things under control here.”

“You can’t leave by yourself! Wait for us.”

“Angela, for Christ’s sake. I’m a cop. I can get myself home, and besides… I met someone. I’m going to grab something to eat with him.”

“Who did you meet?”

“A guy. No one you know.”

“Where is he?” She craned her neck, looking all around the deck as if she’d be able to pick the guy Sam had met out of the crowd.

“Will you please stand down? I met a guy who was nice to me after some other jerk spilled beer on me. We’re going to get food, and then I’m going straight home to bed because I’ve got another twelve-hour day ahead of me tomorrow. I did my part by coming with you, and now I’m out of here.”

“I want to at least meet him.”

“You’re not meeting him, and I can take care of myself.”

“Old habits, you know?”

“Always the big bossy sister.” She kissed Angela’s cheek. “Are you going to be okay to get home?”

“I’ll take her,” Spencer said.

Sam was standing close enough to her sister to feel the shiver that went through her. Yes, Angela was in good hands. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Sam… You’re sure about this guy you’re leaving with?”

Sam thought about the monogrammed handkerchief he’d sacrificed for her, the smile, the charm, the “sex at first sight” comment and nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.” She hadn’t reached the rank of detective without developing a fairly good sense of people. “Call me in the morning.”

“Oh, you can bet I will, and Sam… Thanks for this.” Angela hugged her and whispered in her ear, “I’m so happy to see him.”

“Good.” She said good-bye to Spencer and battled her way through the crowd again, throwing an elbow or two along the way, half-expecting super-fucking-hot Nick Cappuano to have been snapped up by some other woman while she’d been gone. But he was standing right where she’d left him in their little corner of the deck, with no other women in sight.
 

The profound sense of relief she felt at that should’ve been concerning to her, but it wasn’t. She liked him and wanted to get to know him better. That was all this was and all it would ever be. She had more than she could handle on the job. There was no time left at the end of most days for the distraction of a boyfriend or even a fuck buddy, for that matter.

Sleep was her lover these days, and how sad was that?

Nick held out a hand to her. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She took his hand because he was much bigger than she was and could blaze a trail through the crowd for them both. Well, she also took his hand because she was dying to touch him.

Chapter 3

He was an effective trailblazer. People got out of his way. For once in her life, Sam was glad to be a follower. She was too exhausted after the day she’d put in to fight any more battles.
 

“I think I must be getting old or something,” he said the minute they were free of the apartment and heading down two flights of stairs.

“Why’s that?” Sam wondered if she ought to let go of his hand now that they were out of the scrum. For some reason, she held on, and he didn’t let go.

“Parties like that one aren’t as fun as they used to be. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course,” she said dryly.
 

“I just mean the crowds, the booze—”

“The fake hookup bullshit?”

“That, too. Once again, present company excluded.”

“Ha! You’re very smooth.”

“I try. So was it a clean getaway? With your sister, I mean.”

“Sort of. She gave me the third degree about where I was going and who I was going with. Typical big-sister crap. She can’t help herself.”