Sweet Deception Read online

  A reflection glinted, like a deer’s eyes in the middle of the night as you flashed by in your car. He was looking their way. She pressed back into her human wall, shaking. She belatedly sensed the alert edge in Surfer Dude’s stiffened muscles.

  Slow and easy, hugging the wall beside them, he moved backward. The rough block wall scraped her bare arm. She didn’t care. The closer they were to something solid, the safer she felt. A sense of impending disaster filled her.

  A muffled thump and whoosh of furnace-hot air creased the air beside her face. Surfer Dude jerked her into another dark hole in the wall. Burning pain lit her cheek as a dull thud smacked into the wall, raining chunks of debris on them.

  His whisper-soft expletive blistered her ears. He unerringly found her hand again, tugged her out of the hole and jogged into the darkness—away from the door. Left with no choice, she followed. Her other hand crept up to touch a fiery spot on her cheek and her fingers came away damp and sticky. She wiped the thick substance on her khaki shorts.

  Could this day get any worse? She should have stayed in bed.

  Running up the metal steps, she did her best to keep quiet. The light improved as they climbed. His well-muscled butt distracted her from the burn of her thigh muscles and what felt like a gigantic bull’s eye on her backside.

  Finally—thank you, God—they arrived at the top of the unending staircase. Sucking air, legs shaking like wet noodles, she gratefully sagged against the nearest wall. Oblivious to her state of near-collapse, Surfer Dude leaned over the stairwell, staring down into the inky black below. How he could see anything, she didn’t know. Neither did she particularly care.

  Eyeing his hunky rear end, she touched her cheek. Wincing, she traced the throbbing, damp line of skin. Surfer Dude straightened and turned. His eyes narrowed on her. Two big steps brought him toe to toe. Sucking in a breath at his nearness, she tried to step back, but there was nowhere to go.

  “Damn.” His sigh feathered across her skin. With gentle fingers, he pulled her hand away and tilted her face toward the light. “I didn’t realize.”

  His face came closer. Close enough to count eyelashes. Totally unfair; they were longer than hers.

  “It’s not bad,” he murmured. “Just a graze. If I’d realized sooner he had a gun…I’m sorry, Sugar Lips.”

  She lifted her fingers in a shaft of brilliant sunlight and stared at the glistening blood on the tips. Her vision dimmed.

  “Oh no you don’t.”

  His voice came through a tunnel. Everything went dark.

  Chapter Two

  Bright sunshine penetrated her closed lids. Ally rolled her head away before forcing them open. Squinting, she contemplated the bare leg an inch from her face. Tan and muscled, with a sprinkling of blonde hair. Nice.

  “Finally awake, Sleeping Beauty?”

  The smooth velvet baritone washed over her, the slight roughness making her hormones sit up and pant. His voice made her think of naughty whispers in the dark, soft sighs when he kissed a special spot and the husky moans of unhurried lovemaking on satin sheets. She yearned toward it and had to fist her hands to resist temptation. No doubt he made the same unspoken offer to every female who crossed his path.

  His words registered.

  A snort escaped her lips before she could think better of it. His low chuckle heated her cheeks. Braving the sunlight, she turned to look at him. Up a brilliant white T-shirt, over a well-defined jawline, smiling lips and a straight nose, to focus on amused aqua eyes.

  Surfer Dude. And apparently her head currently resided in his lap. The heat in her cheeks ratcheted up to a near-burn.

  She sat up. They were on a roof, in a narrow spot of shade provided by the rooftop stairway access. Against her will, her gaze flitted back to where Surfer Dude lounged with impressive nonchalance.

  “Feeling better?”

  Prim dignity came to the rescue as she smoothed her mousy-brown hair, self-consciousness hidden behind a façade of calm reserve. “Yes, thank you.”

  She ached to tug down her too-short shorts and make sure her lacy tank top still kept everything adequately covered. Pride brought her hand back to her lap and she clasped her fingers tight to prevent unlicensed wandering.

  “I take it you don’t deal well with blood?”

  Tensing, Ally searched his expression for any sign of condescension. Seeing none, she relaxed a little. “Not my own.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know many people fond of seeing their own blood.” He shrugged. “No biggie, Sugar Lips. The bullet only nicked you.”

  “Would you quit calling me Sugar…” The hot irritation faded alongside her voice. She swallowed and managed a single squeaky word. “Bullet?”

  Hunky guys calling her mocking names ranked pretty high on her annoyance scale. Bullets? They’d never made it onto the scale. His shrewd gaze sharpened. Ally lifted her chin. He didn’t intimidate her.

  “Yeah. You seem to have a penchant for finding trouble.”

  “Me?” Her spine stiffened. “What about you? You were there too.”

  “Sure, but you seem to have a way of attracting attention. Not surprising, I guess, with those big eyes and…” His gaze dropped to her lips, which promptly plumped and tingled. “…truly luscious lips.”

  “Oh, get real, Surfer Dude.”

  Oh. My. Word. I did not say that out loud. Fire burned in her cheeks, growing hotter when he chuckled. So glad I can prove entertaining, at least. Obnoxious jerk. She turned away and ducked her chin so her long hair fell forward to hide her face until the blasted blush faded.

  “Surfer Dude?”

  The laughter still coloring his voice made her want to crawl into a hole. Why did she always have to humiliate herself in front of attractive men? No wonder she was still single.

  “I don’t know your name,” she mumbled into her hair. “I didn’t know what to call you.”

  “Hey, whatever works. Name’s Greg.”

  “Ally.”

  “Sorry?”

  He swept aside her hair, long fingers wrapping around her chin to angle her face back toward him. Meeting Surfer…uhm, Greg’s sparkling eyes, she swallowed.

  “My name is Ally.”

  He stared at her until her stomach tumbled to the hot roof they sat on. Which was beyond silly. No way on this planet a guy like him would want her.

  He leaned closer, the heat in his eyes holding her suspended in breathless anticipation. His lips settled on hers with no hesitation, moving with a confidence she couldn’t begin to comprehend. Her lids slid closed against an eruption of butterflies. Deepening the kiss, his tongue glided over the seam of her lips, asking and gaining admission. The taste of him exploded across her tongue like deep, dark chocolate.

  Shaken, she jerked back and eyed him. Things like this didn’t happen to girls like her. Girls like her led boring, quiet lives in boring, quiet duplexes. Girls like her sat at home on Friday nights watching romantic movies, eating popcorn, wearing warm pajamas and fuzzy slippers. Alone.

  Girls like her did not meet gorgeous men on roller-coaster rides, have hair-raising experiences in dark buildings and make out with said gorgeous man on sun-kissed rooftops.

  “That’s really low.” She leapt to her feet.

  “Huh?”

  At the sound of his footsteps, an unwelcome image of him climbing to his feet with catlike grace filled her mind.

  “Did I miss something?”

  She spun around, crossing her arms and glaring at all his golden glory shining in the summer sun. Jerk. “What kind of man goes around kissing another woman when he has a girlfriend? A girlfriend I’ve met! Sort of.”

  Greg sighed and crossed his arms. “Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

  Ugh. Even his frown was adorable.

  “Well…” Ally snorted and spun away. What kind of idiot did he take her for? Seriously. “Even if she is your sister, you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Celia is my baby sister. Why s
houldn’t I kiss you?”

  She turned back, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. Baby sister or not, there was absolutely no way a man like Greg would be interested in her. Gullible was so totally not her middle name and lack of experience didn’t equate stupidity. She had girlfriends. Sort of. Okay, so she eavesdropped while women at work gossiped about the men in their lives.

  Ally wrapped her arms around her middle. “Because.”

  “Because?” He groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Running a hand through his blonde hair, he turned away. Ally snagged her lip between her teeth again. Maybe she had been a little hard on him. So she wasn’t the type of girl to take someone at face value. Sue her.

  “Look, I’m sor—”

  Several yards away, the rooftop door exploded open. Greg whirled and slammed into her, taking them both down hard on the rough asphalt roofing. The air left her lungs in a gasp. The roof dug into her back. She struggled to suck in air with his heavy weight pinning her in place.

  “Shhh,” he said.

  About the time her lungs started to burn, he seemed to sense her sincere distress and lifted off her a fraction. Fresh oxygen fueled her brain. They lay behind what looked like an air conditioner, hidden from view. More specifically, hidden from whoever had made such a dramatic and noisy entrance into their sky-high haven.

  The door crashed open again. This time, anxiety weighed down her diaphragm.

  “Freeze!”

  Instinctively obeying, her muscles seized up. The sounds of a scuffle followed. She stared into Greg’s eyes. He winked and her tension eased. Why, she didn’t know.

  Footsteps drew near, followed by low laughter. “Off-duty and on top of some woman. Classic Marsing.”

  Greg’s heavy weight rolled off her, but he didn’t get up. He lounged on his side, watching her. The plain-clothes detective she’d seen earlier by the building exit stood over them, shaking his head.

  Carefully, she sat up, gingerly testing her aching body parts while she eyed the two men. A few yards away, some guy—the deranged psychopath, presumably—was being handcuffed and read his rights.

  “Always on top of some woman?” Ally repeated numbly.

  Since she’d never been stupid, she easily put together two plus two and came up with a lying jerk. There went her fantasy of believing him about the sister, or believing in a sincere attraction, despite the kiss they’d shared. Acid burning her stomach, Ally crossed her arms and shut her eyes. I am such an idiot.

  “Marsing?” She glanced at the detective.

  “Didn’t have time for a proper introduction, huh? That’s our Marsing. Quite the ladies’ man right, Detective?” The guy smirked, arms crossed and feet shoulder-width apart.

  Now nauseated as well, Ally climbed to her feet.

  “Shove it up your ass, Hank,” Detective Marsing growled. He smoothly rolled to his feet and offered his hand, which she batted away with sharp irritation. “Don’t tell me you believe this laughing hyena. He’s full of crap.”

  Hank hooted with laughter, slapping his thigh. Gritting her teeth, Ally started walking. Several uniformed police officers were escorting a thickly muscled man off the roof. Neck muscles bulging, he turned and met her gaze. His pale-blue eyes sent a shiver down her spine, joined by a river of ice when one side of his thin lips pulled up in a menacing smile. She’d always thought it a dramatic turn of phrase with no basis in reality, but her blood literally ran cold.

  A hand on her arm brought her up short. She barely swallowed an undignified screech. Heart racing, she spun to glare at Detective Marsing. “What? Exciting as this has been, I’d like to go home now.”

  “Ally.” He plowed a hand through his hair. “Look, ignore Hank. He’s always been an ass. He can’t help it.”

  “Which is so sad for Hank, but I don’t see what his being an ass has to do with any of this.” Ally sighed and pushed the hair off her forehead. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t even care anymore. I just want to go home.”

  “Okay. Officer Smith will take you—”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  He was yelling at her now? Her blood began a slow boil. He could take his offer and…Deep breath, Ally. “I’m not your concern.” She rolled her eyes. “Stop pretending you care.”

  “I’m not pretending.” He stepped closer, invading her space. Again. “It’s my job to make sure you get home safe. Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

  His words bit into her miniscule self-confidence and she blanched. This day sucked. Who was she kidding? Her life sucked.

  She sighed. “Fine, have Officer What’s-His-Name escort me home. But I drove, so he’ll have to follow me. Is that fine with you?”

  So she sounded snippy. So what?

  His hand firm on her elbow, he practically frog-marched her over to a massive black man leaning against the stairway access. Warm midnight eyes watched their approach. How they’d even found a uniform large enough to fit him boggled the mind.

  “Freddy, Ally. Ally, Officer Freddy Smith.” The curt introduction showed his irritation, but she refused to care. “Freddy, follow Ally in your cruiser. I want to make sure she gets home safe. Although, I’m starting to wonder why,” he added, just loud enough for her to hear.

  She glared at him. Like she’d asked to witness a murder and almost have a bullet lodged in her brain. Yep, good times.

  “Sure thing, Detective Marsing.” Officer Smith grinned.

  Before she could do more than turn away, Detective Marsing spoke again. “One more thing….”

  Ally glanced back. He stood in the glaring sun wearing an inscrutable expression. Gone was the good ol’ surfer boy and easy sparkling charm.

  “Stop by the EMTs on the way out and have them take a look at her cheek.”

  Unconsciously, her hand headed for her cheek. Detective Marsing intercepted it. His big hand wrapped around hers, making her feel small and petite for the space of several heartbeats. Until her common sense kicked in.

  A flicker of humor returned to his eyes. “Let’s not go there again, Sugar Lips.”

  Swallowing a pang of bittersweet longing, regret and any number of other useless feelings, she turned away and followed Officer Smith into the shadowy depths of the building. Memories assailed her and she hesitated before forcing herself to put one foot after the other down the stairs. As if sensing her unease, Officer Smith glanced back.

  “How’d a pretty little thing like you get mixed up in today’s ugliness?”

  “Just going for a ride, Officer Smith. Against my better judgment, I might add.”

  “Don’t like roller coasters?”

  “Yeah, you could say that. What happened, anyway?”

  “Well, I don’t know that I oughta say. Seeing as how you’re friends with ol’ Marsing, though, I guess it’s okay.”

  Ally debated setting him straight, but she wanted to know what had happened. Besides, she’d been shot at! Her fingers itched to inspect her little wound and she made a fist, her short, sensible fingernails biting into her palm.

  “As you saw, the lowlife shoved some poor SOB outta the coaster. Of course, I doubt he counted on us being here when he did it. Pretty stupid to not take into consideration all the witnesses.”

  “Who was the, uh.” Ally’s belly flipped. She’d tried really hard not to think about the man who’d fallen. “Victim?”

  “I’m not allowed to say.”

  Ally shut her mouth and followed him out of the building. The silent amusement park sent a shiver racing over her skin.

  The EMTs were more than happy to patch up her little boo-boo. She sat inside the ambulance, a first for her, while they did their thing. Some antiseptic and a couple of butterfly bandages later, she climbed into her shiny pale-green Prius.

  Officer Smith tailed her all the way to her semi-attached house in the suburbs. She had never been more excited to see her unexciting, drab little home. A tidal wave of
relief swamped her as she pulled into her garage.

  The black and white cruiser parked directly behind her. In her rearview mirror, the big officer talked on a cell phone. She swung open her door and scrambled out when he disconnected.

  The officer’s massive body blocked the fading sunlight as he strolled inside her garage. “You gonna be okay, Miss?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I’ll be fine. Thank you for seeing me home. I hope it didn’t put you too far out of your way.”

  “Nah. I always enjoy a pleasant ride through the ’burbs. Nice change from the busy city streets.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  She shifted uneasily, glancing from him to the door into her house.

  “So…” he planted a hand on top of her car. “You live here all alone?”

  “Uhm, yes.” Ally swallowed, feeling hemmed in. “Were you talking to your wife? On your cell phone?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Where had the charming, talkative man gone? She liked that guy. She wanted him back. “Well,” she forced a smile, “thanks again.”

  He didn’t move. Something shifted. The air thickened and she struggled to draw a full breath. His dark, unwavering eyes sent a shiver of ice down her spine. She sidled a few steps away. He no longer seemed friendly and easy-going.

  “The boss doesn’t like untidy jobs.”

  “Uhm…boss? As in, the police chief?”

  Of course, he was talking about the police chief. She wanted to laugh at her absurdity, but the sound strangled in her throat.

  He shook his head. “Not exactly. I do a little work on the side for this other guy.”

  Her stomach bottomed out.

  Beyond him, the garage door stood open, but there wasn’t a single person to be seen. The quiet neighborhood where everyone stayed in their houses and bothered no one didn’t seem like such a fabulous thing about now. She backed up a few more steps.

  “He gave me a call on the way over. Wants you taken care of.” He herded her backward toward the door into her house.

  No way he was referring to massaging her feet or barbecuing a nice steak for her. She tried to swallow, but her mouth had taken on a keen resemblance to the Sahara. “Uh, why me?”