Beneath the Badge (First Responders 4)

“Really? Why?” She looked over at him. The cocky, sideways grin she’d come to expect was completely absent. His jaw had tightened and the brilliant blue of his eyes was now darker and more imposing.

“I worked in Vancouver for a long time. Did some undercover and ERT time.”

“ERT?”

“Emergency response. You know, the guys who get sent in when things are really hinky. Most of it ends up being gang related or organized crime. Doing Givens’s mat leave is a walk in the park compared to that.”

There was a weariness in his voice that surprised her. For the second time that evening warning bells sounded. She hadn’t meant for the conversation to turn heavy. It was supposed to be small talk. It had been an innocent query.

“Do you miss it?” She couldn’t resist voicing the question.

He looked at her, surprise lightening the tension in his face. “Why would you ask that?”

She shrugged. “I kind of got the feeling that the guys who do that sort of thing are, I don’t know, adrenaline junkies or something. That they’d get bored doing something else.”

There was a hard edge to his voice when he replied, “I’m not bored yet.”

Lindsay couldn’t help but wonder what had precipitated making the change. Had he gone looking for something a little lighter in duty or had it been imposed upon him for some reason? Not that she was going to ask. She didn’t want to know any dark details. She was no one’s shrink. Not anymore, anyway.

“This is me,” she said, pointing towards an old grey two-story home. The roof was going to need replacing soon and there was a slight droop to the front porch, but she had loved the building on sight.

“How old is this place?” he asked, pausing on the sidewalk.

“Over one hundred years old,” she replied. “Back in the nineties the owners did a lot of updating—insulation, new windows, heat and plumbing, that sort of thing. The last owners weren’t so kind to it, and it ended up in foreclosure, which is how I was able to afford it. I’m fixing it up bit by bit.”

“Cool.”

“Thanks for walking me home.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And for dinner.”

He grinned. “Now’s the part where you say ‘next time it’s on me’.”

He was unusually close at the moment and she took a step back. “I don’t think that’s wise.” She started down the stone walk to her back door and he followed her. “Seriously, Matt. I don’t need to-the-door service.”

“My mother taught me good manners,” he answered.

She fumbled in her purse for her key. When she had it, she turned her back to him and attempted to fit it into the lock. “I’m not going to ask you in,” she said, but it was funny how the words came out all tight and slightly breathless. She wasn’t going to invite him inside. She meant that part. But his persistence was only partly annoying. Another part of her was wooed. Probably because no one had made an effort with her for a long, long time. A certain part of her female vanity was flattered.

“Goodnight,” she said, turning around to offer him a platonic smile.

But when she turned his body was right there and she was caught in that crazy blue gaze, drowning in it, listening to her words go floating away on the air as if they were nothing. He lifted one hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear while shivers erupted over her skin, raising goose bumps on her arms. Still she couldn’t bring herself to look away, until she saw his gaze drop to her mouth. Involuntarily, her tongue slipped out to wet her lips. A muscle ticked in his jaw while he curled his strong fingers around the back of her neck.

He was going to kiss her. After one meal together and one walk home, he was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him.

She’d lost her mind.

His lips were soft, warm, seductive, and a pleasured sigh slipped out as she melted against her still-closed back door. The hedge and garden kept them shielded from any neighbor’s curious eyes as Matt took one small step closer, just enough so she could feel the gentle press of his hard body against hers.

The kiss went on and on, unhurried and incredibly thorough. She’d pegged him as a man who would be focussed on the mission and end result, but instead he seemed perfectly happy to simply delight in exploring her mouth. Like it was pleasure in itself. Like they had all the time in the world.

The contact broke—only slightly, she could still feel the tingle of his lips a fraction of an inch from hers. “I’m still not going to invite you in,” she whispered, her eyes closed.

His mouth was touching hers now and she felt his lips curve in a smile. “Okay,” he agreed, coming in for another round. This time he wrapped his left arm around her and pulled her close. His palm contoured to the curve of her bottom while she wound her arms around his neck from sheer need to remain upright.

“Mmm,” he murmured, the hum vibrating over her lips. “For an uptight control freak, that was mighty impressive.”