“It’s okay,” she said with a small, embarrassed smile.
He gave a humorless laugh. “It’s about a million miles from okay. I shouldn’t have—” The words stuck in his throat, because so many failures competed to flesh out the sentence. I shouldn’t have let you go to work this morning. I shouldn’t have sent you away that first day. I shouldn’t have tasted your juices on my tongue, because now I’ll never be able to forget just how sweet you are. “Something about you Merritts screws with my judgment every time.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, that little frown of hers filling the space between her eyes.
Smooth, Rixey. “Nothing. You steady?” Because he really needed to stop touching her.
“Steadier. It’s just a headache. But I want to know what you meant.” She fixed her bra and crossed her arms over her breasts. Fierce animation roared back into her eyes.
“Not a goddamned thing, Becca.” Giving her a last, searching look, he dropped his hands and bent for his T-shirt. He tugged it back on, failing to force away the remembered feeling of her hands on his skin, then grabbed his jacket and slung his holster loosely over one shoulder. “I’ll take you upstairs. You should rest.”
“I’ll go upstairs, but I’m not resting. We still haven’t finished talking, you and I. If someone broke into my house, I should go there. Call the police. Something. This can’t all be coincidence.” A flush on her cheeks replaced the pallor from moments before.
“I know, but we can’t.”
She froze. “Why the hell not?”
He heaved a weary sigh, not sure what he was going to do if she insisted. “On the phone earlier, Miguel made it sound like there’s a reason we shouldn’t report the second break-in. He wanted to tell us in person. I trust him implicitly, so I’d like to wait to hear what he says. He’ll be over as soon as he can. But it is your decision.”
She rubbed the skin above her eye, bringing his gaze to the bruise forming on her forehead. “You really think it’s better to wait?”
“I don’t think Miguel would advise that unless he had a good reason.”
“God. What now?” Her shoulders sagged and she rubbed her forehead again. “Okay. I’ll hear him out. And thank you for being straight with me.” She sighed and turned, then crossed the stairwell to where the puppy lay curled in a ball by the door to Hard Ink. “You’ve been waiting patiently, haven’t you?” she said.
Rixey caught up with her, hollow pressure expanding in his chest at the sadness saddling her shoulders and dimming the lightness he’d admired about her from the start. He wanted that back. For her. For himself. “Wanna see something funny?” he asked, hoping his idea might replace the anger and hurt in her expression. She shrugged, her guard back up again. “Open the door and let—what’s her name?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said. “Maybe Sadie. Or Georgia.”
“What about Cujo?”
Her disapproving expression was almost comical, and it was a lot better than what she’d worn a moment before. “Cujo is a boy’s name, and he was a crazy killing menace. Plus Cujo was a Saint Bernard.”
Rixey winked, and she rolled her eyes. “Well, then, open the door and let Sadie-or-Georgia in by herself. We’ll hang back and see what happens.” All right, it was probably stupid, but if it made her smile, he was all for it. No plan was stupid if it worked . . .
She glanced from him to the puppy, who was now sitting up and watching the two of them talk like she knew the conversation was about her.
Nick opened the door from the private stairwell, and Sadie-or-Georgia loped in. He and Becca followed, and she now wore an amused expression. They peeked around the corner and watched as the puppy sauntered around the empty lounge for a few minutes before making its way up the hall between the tattoo rooms toward the front.
“What in the hell?” came Jeremy’s voice out of one. “Hey, Jess, what is walking—”
A shriek sounded from the lobby. “Holy shit.” Jess’s laughter followed a moment later. “Somebody lost a tripod,” she snickered.
Becca had her hand pressed to her mouth, and the rise in her cheeks told him she was enjoying the show.
“Hey! No! Gimme that back,” Jess yelled.
The puppy trotted down the hall again, something red in its mouth. Jessica barreled after her with a scowl on her made-up face.
“Is that a dog?” Jeremy yelled. “Why is there a dog?”
Beside Nick, Becca was giggling.
And then the dance started. The puppy rounded one of the tables with its prize clutched tight between its teeth. Jess chased her to the right, and the puppy dashed left. Then Jess veered to the left, and the puppy ran right. “C’mere, you little thief!”
Becca snorted. “I should help her.” They stepped out from their hiding place and Jess glared. “I’m sorry,” Becca said, humor coloring her voice. “I’ll help.”
Jess waved her away. “No, no. I’ll get it. It’s fine.”
“Come here, puppy,” Becca called and snapped her fingers. “Come here, girl.”
Jess hiked herself up on the table, scooted her butt across, and dropped down on the other side, surprising the dog by changing the rules of the game. The puppy growled and took off like a cartoon, her legs taking a minute to find purchase before she shot around the other table. “You little fucker, c’mere!”
Rixey stood with his arms crossed and watched the circus unfold. Much as she tried, Becca couldn’t stop laughing. This was even better than he’d hoped for.
Jess got in a swipe at the dog’s tail and the shepherd barked around the scrap of fabric in her mouth.
Jeremy stepped out of the tattoo room wearing his mask and gloves. “What in the holy hell is going on out here?” The dog shot toward him and Jeremy crouched and caught her in a body hold. “Uh, hello.” He looked up. “We have a dog now?”
Becca smiled. “She’s mine.”
Jess stepped forward. “Um, Jeremy.”
Wagging her tail, Sadie-or-Georgia deposited its prize on Jeremy’s knee. He set the dog down and looped his gloved finger under a string. Holding it up, he pulled his mask off and arched a brow at Jess.
It was a thong.
Jess dove for it.
Jeremy rose in a flash and held it above his head. Short as Jessica was, she didn’t have a prayer.
“Jeremy Rixey, I will kill you.”
He hugged her tight against his chest and cocked his gaze up toward the panties. There was writing. If you can read this, it’s your lucky day. He barked out a laugh.
Becca grinned, her expression halfway between sympathy for Jess and hysterics. Nick should’ve known that between Jeremy and Jessica, letting the dog in here would lead to some sort of slapstick antics.
“I have to ask why you have panties here and how the hell the mutt got ’em.”
Jess stomped her knee-high black boot. “Just give them to me.”
Jeremy reached up with his other hand and held the thong so it hung straight, all except for one loose string. “Why are they—?” His eyebrows flew up under his long hair. “Are these ripped?”
The phone rang, the ringer echoing between the office and the front desk.
Jess braced her hands on her hips and tapped her toe. “Give. Them.”
“Not until you tell me why they’re—”
“Because, unlike you, I had sex last night and the guy ripped my thong off. Are you satisfied?”
Jeremy’s expression froze.
“Probably not as well as you are,” Becca said. Despite her bright red cheeks, she met all three sets of eyes that whipped her way. Damn, she wore that mixture of embarrassment and daring so well it shot right to Rixey’s cock.