Butterface

The woman might love organization, but it didn’t show in her bedroom. It was impossible to miss the black lace panties on the floor near the laundry basket, the rumpled pillow and half-made bed, and the warm vanilla scent of her that seemed to linger in the air. He’d spent way too many hours at night on that poor excuse for a couch staring at the ceiling and picturing her wearing only the black lace panties, dabbing perfume on her wrists and between her perfect tits. It was not what he should be pondering during the long, sleepless nights, as his captain would have told him if he wasn’t chewing Ford’s ass out already.

“So you’ve got nothing,” the captain said during their usual late-afternoon call.

“You knew this was a long shot.” Ford left out the part about the captain being the one to come up with this cockamamie plan, even though keeping it to himself was about to kill him. So, he took a second to inhale a deep breath and watch Gina through the window as she put another coat of white paint on the backyard fence.

The pinch in his shoulders eased, and his blood pressure dropped from the red zone as he watched her work her paint roller.

Then she bent over to get more paint on the roller, and the calming breath he’d inhaled came out as a frustrated groan that he hoped the captain took as annoyance about the lack of results. “Her brothers haven’t been around all week.”

“You need to find a way to change that.”

Well sure. He’ll just teleport the Luca brothers over from wherever they were. That would totally work. Clamping his mouth shut before that thought could spill out, he tapped his finger and thumb together to the count of twenty and only then gave himself permission to speak.

“Her grandmother’s birthday party is tomorrow. I’m her date. The whole family will be there.”

“If that comes up empty, then I’m calling your operation.”

And there it was. The captain couldn’t have been any clearer with his meaning, and the blame for the lack of results landed with a loud thud at Ford’s feet. It was a response that anyone could have seen coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. That’s why his gut did that clench and shimmy thing, because the failure that was all but assured was going to get pinned to him.

It wasn’t because the end of the operation meant no more Gina or hearing the silly songs she sang to herself as she brewed coffee in the morning or the mind-melting view of her ass in those black yoga pants she always paired with ridiculous novelty T-shirts.

That part didn’t matter. It couldn’t. He was one of Waterbury’s finest, and she was a Luca. There had to be regulations written down forbidding that kind of fraternization. So after tomorrow, that was that.

His grip tightened on his phone, and he turned away from the window. “I understand, sir.”

“Don’t worry, Hartigan. You’ll still be in the running to stay on the task force, but I have to tell you that bringing in some hard intel would go a long way to helping you there.”

No shit, Captain Sherlock. “Yes sir.”

And that was the little breath of hell that hung over him for the rest of the afternoon, right up until an incoming text message made his phone buzz as he and Gina were sanding down the intricately carved banisters for the main staircase. She’d been telling him some of her wedding planner horror stories—who knew ducks could shit that much—and explaining that despite the craziness of it, she was ready to start working with her newest client next week. Continuing to listen, Ford pulled out his phone and glanced down at the message.

Mom: Don’t forget to pick up the pastries from the bakery before you stop off for family lunch today.

Great. Lunch was in an hour. He rammed his fingers through his hair and tried to work out how he was going to explain to his mom that he wasn’t coming. Kate Hartigan was not going to be happy, and she wasn’t going to be shy about telling him. “Oh hell.”

“Did someone run a red light?” Gina asked.

God, didn’t he wish. “It’s my mom.”

The teasing look in her brown eyes softened. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just forgot to tell her I couldn’t make Saturday family lunch today. It’s pretty much a standing event for the entire family, and not going means you better be in the hospital.” He stared at his phone.