“I
was
minding my own business.” David leaned against the doorway, his arms and ankles crossed. Something about this guy rubbed him the wrong way; he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “But when my neighbor says ‘no’ loud enough for me to hear from inside my apartment, it becomes my business.” He sent out a mental wave of foreboding and watched Angelo physically recoil. “It’s time to call it a night, Romeo.”
It took Angelo a few beats to recover. When he did, he straightened his spine and squared his shoulders in an act of sheer defiance. “I do not have to do anything—” He lost his train of thought as the second wave hit him. Stunned, he shook his head, and his eyes flashed wide with fear. “Who are you?”
David pushed off the doorframe and stalked across the hall, stopping when he was close enough to see the pulse thumping beneath Angelo’s temple. His inner Neanderthal wanted to toss the asshole down the stairs but common sense prevailed, convincing him to take a route that wouldn’t result in a visit from law enforcement. Besides, for all he knew Sarah might actually like the arrogant prick and get bent out of shape if he put the guy in a body cast.
“I’m the thing that goes bump in the night,” David said, his words coming out in a low growl. To make his point, he shot out another wave, this one filled with some of the most disturbing images from the darkened recesses of his mind. “Leave. Now.”
Twenty minutes later, David’s blood pressure was almost back to normal when he heard a light rapping at the door. Much to his surprise, it was Sarah.
“Hi,” she said when he opened the door. She’d changed into a pair of red cotton shorts and a tank top that clung to her curves like Saran Wrap. He couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing a bra. “I wanted to thank you,” she said, her speech still sounding more than a little sluggish. “For your help with Angelo.”
“No big deal.” David shrugged, trying not to be a pervert and stare at her chest. He failed. “I just got a little concerned when I heard the commotion out in the hall.”
She flashed him a crooked smile and he felt something tug at him, deep inside. “That was my boss. He can be a bit . . .”
“Of an asshole?” David offered.
Her smile widened, and he felt another tug. “I was gonna say difficult. But ‘asshole’ works just as well.”
Damn, she was cuter than hell. He studied her for a few seconds, wondering why it had taken him so long to notice. “Why would you go out with a jerk like that?”
“Not my choice.” She swayed a little and compensated for her lack of balance by holding on to the doorframe. “My tires were flat and he was the only one around to give me a ride home.” She blinked a few times, and then shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. “He insisted on dinner and I ended up drinking too much wine.”
“How much did you have?” A gallon?
She thought about it for a minute, her brows scrunched in concentration. “Two glasses, I think,” she finally said. “No, wait. A glass and a half—I didn’t finish the second one.”
Now that didn’t make sense. The other night she drank more than two glasses without getting sloppy drunk.
“Newbie, get over here,” David said with a quick glance back to Adam, who was still parked on the couch with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. The dog was stretched out beside him, lying on his back with his paws in the air.
“Hey there, darling.” Adam waved to Sarah as he got off the couch and sauntered to the foyer. He gave her a wink and a smile before turning his attention to David. “What’s up, boss man?”
“She says she drank a glass and a half of wine,” David said by way of explanation. “Does that sound right to you?”
Adam’s smile slipped a few notches as he regarded Sarah with the eyes of a seasoned cop. He took his time, checking her pupils and reflexes. “How are you feeling tonight, Sarah?” he asked, his voice taking on a soothing yet authoritative tone.
“A little fuzzy,” she replied, her smile dreamy and relaxed. She ran a hand down her neck, her fingers stopping just above the neckline of her tank top. “Other than that, I’m pretty good.”
“What kind of wine did you drink?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Something red, maybe a merlot?”
“How long ago?”
“About an hour.”
“Why don’t you sit down next to Buford?” Adam said as he guided her to the couch and sat her down beside the big mutt. “There’s my girl.” He handed her the remote control before returning to David. He leaned close and kept his voice low. “I can’t say for sure, but it looks like she’s been drugged.”
David clenched his fists so tight his fingernails dug into his palms. “Son of a bitch. Any idea what he gave her?”
Brows creased, Adam shook his head. “I can’t be sure. There’s so much shit out there nowadays, it could be anything: Rohypnol, GHB, Ecstasy, take your pick.” He glanced back to the couch, where Sarah was flipping channels with the dog’s head in her lap. Her head was tilted a little to one side, and her eyelids were drooping. “She’s got something buzzing around in her system, but it’s more than just a couple glasses of wine.”
David cursed under his breath, making a silent vow to twist off Angelo’s head the next time he laid eyes on him. “Will she be okay? Should we take her to the hospital?” Since there weren’t any appointments scheduled in the area, he figured her life wasn’t in danger. But he had no idea what the drugs would do to her system, and that had him a little worried.
“She said she drank the wine over an hour ago. At this point, I don’t think you have to worry about her overdosing, but it wouldn’t hurt to take her down to the emergency room. They can run a toxicology to pin down what’s in her bloodstream.”
David crossed the room and crouched down beside the couch. “Sarah, we’re taking you to the hospital.”
“Huh? Hospital?” She looked at him like he was off his rocker. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I feel fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m fine.” She watched him with a skeptical eye, all the while scratching Buford’s belly. The dog stretched out beside her, and David suddenly felt jealous of the four-legged fleabag. “Is this some sort of payback for trying to make you go to the hospital last week? Cause it’s not gonna work.”
“Shit,” David muttered under his breath. He blew out a heavy sigh as he stalked back to Adam. “She says she doesn’t want to go.”
“If she doesn’t want to go, she doesn’t want to go. She’s a grown woman. You can’t force her.” Adam’s gaze cut back to Sarah. “She doesn’t seem to be suffering from any adverse side effects. With a good night’s rest, she should be all right. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep an eye on her for the next couple hours, though, just to be safe.”
“Okay.” David felt an invisible weight lift off his chest. He turned his attention back toward the couch. “Sarah, where’s your car?”
“In the parking garage at work.” Her brows crinkled, as if she’d suddenly remembered something important. “Oh shoot, I gotta call Jackie. I told Angelo that she was giving me a ride to work tomorrow.”
“No you don’t.” David walked to the bar and scooped up his keys. “We’ll get your car fixed right now.”
They made it to the Sears Automotive Center ten minutes before closing. After purchasing two new tires, they crossed town to Cava Tech and persuaded the night guard to let them in.
“You guys are the best,” Sarah said for the third time. Or was it the fourth? At this point, David had lost count. It would have been annoying, if she didn’t look so damn sexy leaning against the hood of his Taurus, beaming at him like he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.
“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” Adam lowered the jack holding up the back end of Sarah’s Mazda. He handed the tire iron to David, who began loosening the lug nuts on the flat front tire. “You helped us out the other night. We’re just returning the favor.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to come out here in the middle of the night.”
“It’s not the middle of the night,” David said. “It’s only nine thirty.”
“Well, I still appreciate it.” She smiled, not looking quite so out of it as she had an hour before. “You two are so sweet. No wonder you make such a great couple.”
“Excuse me?” David nearly dropped the tire iron on his foot. She couldn’t possibly think—
“Oops!” Sarah’s eyes widened as if she’d just realized she spilled the beans on confidential information. “Is it supposed to be a secret? I’m sorry! Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.” She traced an X across her chest with her index finger. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
David shot a confused look in Adam’s direction. “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?”
A grin lit Adam’s face. “Yep. She thinks you’re my bitch.”
“You think this is funny?” David’s face flushed with a combination of outrage and mortification. He’d been called a lot of things over the years, but never had his sexuality been called into question. Scowling, he locked the jack in place and then turned his attention to Sarah. “I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re not a couple.”
“Pffft,” Sarah said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t be silly. You don’t have to put up a front when I’m around. Seriously, I’m not uptight about that kind of stuff. Whatever makes you two happy is fine with me.”
Adam let out a bark of laughter, and David shot him a look that said,
“Eat shit and die.”
Frustration mounting, David met Sarah’s gaze. “We. Are. Not. A couple.”
“Really? But you two seem so close, living together in that little apartment—”
“We’re straight,” David interrupted. Caught up in the need to prove his point, he bent down and kissed her.
He’d meant to keep the kiss short and sweet, a modest peck on the lips to assert his heterosexuality. But once he got a taste of her he lost himself in the moment, taking the kiss deeper, hotter, turning it into an act of possession. He was about to pull back when she moaned against his mouth. Her tongue darted out and licked his lower lip, sending his brain on vacation while his libido took the driver’s seat and punched the gas.
Lust ripped through him as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close so he could relish the heat of her body against his own. She felt soft, and warm, and vibrant in his arms, awakening desires he’d long abandoned. She let out another throaty moan as her fingers tunneled through his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp.
This isn’t right,
a tiny part of his brain screamed, and David snapped to his senses. She was still under the influence, which made him no better than Angelo if he allowed things to go any further.
Breaking the kiss, he took in the sight of flushed skin and bruised lips. Her eyes looked a little glassy, but he couldn’t tell what caused it, the drugs or the kiss.
Christ, he was no better than an animal. “I’m sorry,” David muttered, his body tight with awareness and aching for completion. He closed his eyes for a few seconds while he struggled to regain his composure.
When he opened them again, he found Sarah staring up at him, eyes wide with shock and hot with intensity. He coughed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. “Why don’t you go wait in the car?” he suggested, so ashamed he averted his gaze. “It should only be another couple minutes, and then we’ll get you home.”
chapter 8
Early the next morning Sarah woke in a haze, her mind a tapestry of disjointed dreams and memories. Her head throbbed while her mouth tasted like she’d been chewing on cardboard, and her bladder was pushing maximum capacity. She dragged herself out of bed and—after a quick trip to the bathroom—padded over to the bedroom window. Her bleary eyes squinted as she peered through the blinds to the parking lot below.
She spotted her little red Mazda in the lot, parked in the row of spots across from the building. The sight of the Miata left her unnerved, since she had no idea how it got there. She had a clear recollection of finding her car in the Cava Tech parking garage with two flat tires, and then Angelo offering to drive her home—after dinner, of course—but the rest of the evening was a blur.
What happened between dinner with Angelo and waking up in bed with a mind-numbing headache? How did her car get home? Who fixed her tires? When did she change from her work clothes to shorts and a tank top? And why was so much of her memory a blank slate?
It didn’t help that she’d had the most erotic dreams the night before. Fantasies of David kissing her with a hunger bordering on savagery, touching her exactly the way she enjoyed being touched, his heart beating wildly while his arousal pressed against her, putting her on notice that yes, he did prefer the fairer sex.
Great, now she was having wet dreams about her gay next-door neighbor. It was official: her love life could not get any more pathetic.
With unsteady feet she shuffled to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker, praying that a hot cup of Columbian roast would perk up her frazzled senses and kick-start her brain into gear. She poured a cup and almost groaned with relief when the taste of liquid caffeine washed over her taste buds.
Armed with a tall mug of coffee, she shuffled back and forth across the living room carpet, struggling to recall events from the prior evening. Jumbled memories bubbled to the surface, and she tried to piece them together into one coherent picture. Angelo at the door to her apartment. David and Adam at the garage, changing her tires. David . . . kissing her?
No, that couldn’t be right. Sarah rubbed her temples, wishing her synapses would hurry up and start firing on all cylinders. Why would David kiss her? He and Adam were a couple, right?
A knock at the door went through her head like a sledgehammer. Groaning, she moved gingerly to the foyer and peered through the peephole.
David.
Crap. She really wanted to avoid seeing him until she knew which memories were real and which were the delusions of a woman who obviously lost the ability to hold her liquor. Not to mention she looked like a train wreck and felt even worse. Maybe he’d go away if she didn’t answer.
“Sarah?” David called out right before he knocked a second time. He held a bag up to the peephole, emblazoned with the bright pink and orange Dunkin’ Donuts logo.
Damn it. He had a determined look on his face, making it clear he had no intention of leaving until she faced the embarrassing music. With a heavy sigh, she flipped the bolt and opened the door.
“Good morning,” David said. He spoke in an easy, conversational tone, but his pale eyes regarded her with unmasked concern. “How are you feeling?”
“You want the diplomatic answer or the truth?”
“From you?” He paused for a moment, cocking his head slightly as if weighing his answer. “The truth. Always.”
“It feels like there’s a mosh pit inside my head.” She opened the door a little wider and stepped back, gesturing for him to come in. “If I didn’t have to leave for work in less than an hour, I’d go back to bed.”
“Can’t you call in sick?” David asked as he moved inside, wiping his feet on the welcome mat in the foyer. He walked past, and she couldn’t help but notice how nicely his faded Levi’s molded against his body in all the right places. After all, she wasn’t dead, just suffering the ravages of a massive hangover.
“Nope. Too much work, too little time.” She took the bag David offered and settled down on the couch. With her free hand, she picked up the remote and switched on the morning news. The reporter—how could anyone be that perky this early in the morning? —was interviewing an eyewitness to an overnight shooting on Kaley.
“I can relate.” David sank down on the couch beside her, the springs creaking under the weight of two hundred pounds of solid masculinity. His thigh pressed against hers, making her keenly aware of the heat of his body and the crisp scent of his aftershave. “Did you take any aspirin?”
Sarah shook her head and bit back a groan. “Not yet. I wanted to try coffee before moving up to anything solid.” She slumped back against the couch and closed her eyes. Right now she’d give anything to make the left one stop twitching.
David eased the pastry bag from her grip. “In that case, I have just the thing to make you feel better.” He rolled the bag open and waved it under her nose. “In my experience, doughnuts work wonders for a hangover.”
The scent of confectionary sugar wafted up, making her hungry and nauseous at the same time. Hunger won out, and she dug into the bag and pulled out a chocolate doughnut with vanilla icing and sprinkles. She took a bite, not bothering to hold back the moan as creamy, sugary goodness flooded her taste buds.
She opened her eyes to find David watching her, his face a mixture of amusement and something else she couldn’t quite identify. Heat? Nah, impossible. “What is it?”
He shook his head, a hint of a smile creasing the corners of his mouth. “Nothing. I was just trying to remember the last time I saw someone get so much pleasure from a piece of pastry.” He reached over, picked a crumb off her shirt, and popped it into his mouth. His eyes met hers and she could have sworn she saw lust mixed with the gray. “Although I must admit, it is pretty tasty.”
Sarah felt a blush warm her cheeks. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was flirting with her. “Are you this helpful to all of your neighbors?”
“No, just the pretty ones.” David’s expression shifted, as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, I also came over to give you this.” He dug into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a key ring. More specifically, her key ring. “I took these with me last night so I could lock up on my way out.” He set the keys on the coffee table, on top of the small stack of science journals she hadn’t gotten around to reading.
“Thank you,” she said, disturbed because she couldn’t remember why David needed her keys to lock up. She took another bite of the doughnut, chewing slowly while she worked up the courage to ask the million-dollar question. Part of her really didn’t want to know the answer, but she still felt compelled to satisfy her morbid curiosity before it drove her bonkers.
“About last night,” she finally said, keeping her focus on the morning news anchors so she wouldn’t chicken out. “I could use some help filling in the blanks.”
“What do you remember?”
“Well, I remember getting out of work and finding my tires flat. And then Angelo offered to drive me home, but he insisted on going out to dinner.” She rubbed a hand across her face, trying to remember more but unable. “The rest of it’s a blur.”
David leaned forward, his forearms braced against his knees. He turned his head to face her, his expression unreadable. “What exactly is your relationship with your boss?”
“Are we still being honest?”
“Of course.”
“There is no relationship. He’s a pig.”
David let out a low chuckle, his features warming with what looked like relief. “Good. Nice to know we’re on the same page.”
“Why, what do you mean?” Sarah asked, his response making her nervous. “What did he do?”
“Well, the asshole was putting some major moves on you last night. You didn’t look happy about it, so I sent him packing,” he said by way of explanation. While his voice sounded casual, his furrowed brows and clenched jaw gave a glimpse of his true emotions. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Adam thinks he slipped you a Mickey.”
“He what?” Sarah forced down the last bite of her doughnut, her hunger replaced by a cold, hard knot in the pit of her stomach. Garbled memories flashed through her mind, of Angelo holding her, touching her, jamming his tongue in her mouth.
“Adam used to be a cop, before he started working for me,” David said. “He’s got a knack for spotting people under the influence.”
“Oh.”
She was quiet for a few minutes while the full weight of the information sunk in. She felt sick, angry. Violated. She wanted to hurt somebody, preferably Angelo. Oh yeah, she definitely wanted to hurt Angelo. How dare he drug her? If she could prove it, she’d press charges so fast it would make his head spin. Her thoughts bounced from tangent to tangent before coming full circle on something David had said. “Wait a minute. Adam works for you?”
David nodded. “You got it. He’s bunking on the couch until I get him trained.” He pinned her with an inquisitive look. “Why does that surprise you so much?”
“It doesn’t,” she said quickly, making a point of not meeting his gaze. “I just didn’t know Adam was your employee. I thought he was a . . . friend or . . .” She made a vague gesture with her hands. “Something.”
“Nope. He’s my latest and greatest.” David reached into the bag, pulled out a Boston Kreme, and offered it to Sarah. “But don’t tell him I said so. His head’s swelled up enough already.”
“Deal.” She bit into the pastry, the creamy filling squishing out along the sides. She licked it up, and then blushed when she noticed David watching her with expressed interest. Yep, definitely not gay. The knowledge left her acutely aware of how horrible she must have looked. “So . . . uh . . . what happened after Angelo left?”
“We changed out your tires and drove you home. I have your flats, by the way. It wouldn’t hurt for you to get one of them patched up to leave in your trunk, just in case something like this ever happens again.” He pulled the last doughnut from the bag and took a bite. “I’ve got to admit, you’re the happiest drunk I’ve ever seen.”
“I am?” Oh dear God, what had she done? Her pulse raced with panic as her imagination ran wild. Somehow, it always seemed worse when other people told you about the stupid things you’d done while under the influence. It hadn’t happened since her junior year of college, and she’d sworn it would never happen again. She took a deep, steadying breath, hoping she hadn’t done anything too embarrassing. “What did I do?”
David’s pale eyes locked with hers, and she found humor, and affection, and a hint of masculine desire. “Nothing for you to be ashamed of,” he said, his voice taking on a tone she hadn’t heard from him before. His mouth curved up a little on one side. “You were very happy, and carefree, and totally relaxed. I think I liked it.”
She suspected he was holding something back, but decided not to press the issue. At least this way she maintained plausible deniability. “Well, I guess that’s okay, as long as I didn’t strip down to my underwear and sing ‘Margaritaville’ at the top of my lungs.” His grin widened to a smile, and her heart dropped down to her stomach. “Oh God, please tell me I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t, although the idea sounds promising.” His eyes lit with mischief when he laughed, and a rush of heat flooded her body, settling low and spreading at an alarming rate. “Maybe next time.”
Outside, a car horn sounded, honking twice.
David’s smile faded. He checked his watch, and a tired expression replaced the humor. “It sounds like Adam’s getting restless.” He blew out a breath as he pushed up from the couch, leaving Sarah with an unexpected feeling of loss. “I told him I’d only be up here long enough to make sure you were okay.” He gave her a long appraising look, the concern etched into his features. “You sure you’re going to be all right? You still look a little pale.”
Sarah nodded, giving him the warmest smile she could muster while her head thumped like a kettledrum. “I’ll be fine. Between the coffee and doughnuts, I should be able to pass for human by the time I get to work.”
He didn’t look convinced, but let the matter drop.
“I guess this makes us even,” she said as she watched him move toward the door.
David froze where he stood, his hand wrapped around the knob. He turned back toward her, a look of confusion on his face. “It does?”
“Well, sure. I patched you up, and you saved me from my grabby boss.”
His brows wrinkled as if he didn’t buy into her logic but didn’t intend to argue the point. “If you say so.”
He stared at her for a few beats, his lips pressed into a thin line. Then he muttered something under his breath and walked back to the couch. Bending over, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. “If you need anything, give me a call. My number’s on the message pad by the phone.”
The memories slowly returned while Sarah got ready for work. Little by little, scenes took shape and locked into place, recreating the prior evening’s events in her mind. There were still a few noticeable gaps, but she had enough to form a cohesive picture. And as the details emerged with greater clarity, her anger mounted.
By the time she turned on to the main road leading to Cava Tech, her mood had downgraded from moderately sour to borderline homicidal. Even the idiot in the bunny outfit had enough sense to jump out of the way when she pulled up to the gate. With a pot of coffee and two doughnuts churning in her system, she was both pissed off and jittery, a volatile combination in any workplace.