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  He glanced down at his daughters, the best part of his life. He wanted them prepared for the world, to be able to fight anything off, but he’d protect them, too.

  Not like his own childhood. Cole had failed in giving them the kind of family life he’d wanted, but they’d always know they were loved. Not just something to be yelled at or hit.

  That evening as the girls were taking a shower, and he was sitting at the kitchen table looking over some reports, Annie slipped into the chair beside him. “I know you thought I’d forget about this new woman, but I haven’t.”

  “I didn’t think you’d forget.” Cole leaned back against the chair, ready for the attack, but showing no worry. His sister could be ruthless. Revealing weakness would be his first mistake.

  Annie playfully kicked him under the table. “Then spill. Maybe you can invite her here next weekend to meet the girls.”

  “It’s not like that. We’ve only just…met. Besides, I’m not going to parade a series of women through the girls’ lives. I won’t subject the kids to her until I know it’s a relationship that will last.”

  Annie made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “Subject your kids to her? Make sure you use that exact phrase when you tell her. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

  “Like I said, this isn’t a relationship…She didn’t even want me spending the night.” He’d been a little slow that morning, but after a shower and shave, Jessie’s intentions gradually became clear to him. What he thought of them wasn’t.

  Annie’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “So you have some woman using you for sex? That’s priceless. In fact, maybe it’s better.”

  Put like that, what did he have to complain about? A sexy, desirable woman wanted to screw his brains out, and asked for nothing in return…Yeah, nothing to complain about.

  His sister’s face grew serious. “Mom called me again.”

  Cole sighed heavily. “Why can’t she understand I’m not interested?”

  “She’s trying to make amends. Explain.”

  The only thing worse than being the son of Michael Crawford was being married to him. But what Cole could never understand was their mother leaving him and Annie with the man. Annie got married to the first person who’d asked, and ran as far away from Thrasher as she could. He knew his sister, though, she felt a lot of guilt about Cole being alone with their father, especially after she learned what happened. Michael had only yelled and punched holes in walls while she was living under his roof. The hitting didn’t start until their father had lost his job.

  Two towel-wrapped bundles scampered into the kitchen, saving him from any exploration of feelings his sister might have wanted to subject him to.

  “Tell her none is needed.” It was true. He didn’t want any explanation from the woman now. He knew enough and could guess the rest. He just didn’t want to have a relationship with her.

  “Daddy, is it time to tuck you in?” He couldn’t remember how their ritual had started, but he would tuck them in on Friday nights, and they always took over the task on Saturday.

  “Comb out your hair and put on your pajamas and I’ll be ready.” His daughters darted back out of the kitchen.

  Annie stood up and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s good to see you back among the living. I know you know this, but not every woman is like Amber, and out there is the perfect woman for you. It may not be this one, but enjoy the moment nonetheless.”

  Cole watched his sister walk away. She was confirmation that big girls didn’t come from fairy tales. He imagined Schyler would be like that.

  Still, he knew the truth—that no perfect woman was waiting for him.

  He walked to the spare bedroom Annie had allocated to him for his weekend stays. Saturday nights were quiet. All three of them would snuggle in the blue overstuffed chair in the corner, one girl on either side of him. Then they’d take turns reading him a book.

  They bounded into the room and leaped onto the chair.

  “Hey, wait a minute. You’re on my jacket,” he said.

  His daughters giggled as he tossed the jacket onto the corner of the bed. Then they all settled into the chair together. Susan snuggled close to him on the right, Schyler on his left.

  “What’s that smell?” he asked.

  “Blueberry,” Schyler told him.

  Susan shifted, not wanting to be left out. “Strawberry. Aunt Annie took us to the body store and let us pick out lotion with glitter in it.” She stuck out a tiny arm.

  Sure enough, she sparkled.

  “Aunt Annie says it’s important to smell like a girl. Janine got pear.”

  He smiled, inhaling the light scent. Wasn’t bad. Apparently trips to the body store and glitter lotion had replaced the baby lotion smell of old. “Who read to me first last time?”

  “Schyler did.” Susan opened her book. She’d taken an interest in nonfiction, and read him a story about how tadpoles turned into frogs.

  Schyler chose a story about a bear who accidentally got onto a subway.

  They were growing up.

  They were much more sure with the words, only occasionally needing his help. Their cute smiles were being replaced by adorable toothless grins and visits from the tooth fairy. Someday they would say they were too old to read stories to their old man. They’d stop calling him Daddy. He winced at the thought of being referred to as Dad.

  The girls fell asleep in his bed. For a while he just looked at them, amazed something so remarkable could come from his disastrous marriage with Amber. He’d miss the little girls they were, but knew each new year would bring something different.

  One at a time he picked the girls up and carried them to their room, carefully setting each on her bunk and pulling the sheet up around her neck.

  He closed their door, a smile on his face.

  Instead of heading back to his room, he opted to take a walk outside. He should have thought of nothing else but falling into his own bed. His late nights at the studio and being with Jessie had made a dent in his routine. Normally, he didn’t mind the lack of sleep or hectic schedule, but something had changed. Maybe he was returning from someplace dark. A surge of strength coursed through his body.

  For a year and a half he’d done nothing but take the days as they’d come. But no longer.

  Cole was ready to make up for lost time. Make up for lost time with Jessie.

  11

  JESSIE SET DOWN HER BAGS and locked the heavy wood door of her house behind her. She strode over to the couch, practically falling on it. It was good to be home. Her trip had gone well. A company in Memphis had hired her to do extensive background checks on its employees and set up routine surveillance. Some low level thievery was going on, and her client wanted to get it identified and stopped before she’d have to report it to her supervisor. The woman had been a former customer of Jessie’s.

  Jessie smiled while thinking of the changes that had come over Sarah Fulton. Only six months ago she’d sat crying in Jessie’s office. Jessie had caught Sarah’s man on film, a guy who’d found nothing wrong with banging another woman.

  Jessie’s bangs ruffled with her heavy sigh. Yeah, love sucked, and she wouldn’t be suckered anymore. Neither would Sarah. They’d quickly found the culprit in Sarah’s division. Now she’d have a name for her supervisor, instead of just going to him for help because she couldn’t find the guilty party.

  Jessie took the stairs to her bedroom two at a time, ready to slide between her sheets and sleep. This was a new kind of satisfaction. Way better than an infidelity case or a couple of Talbarts, so it was a nice challenge, too. Realizing the path her thoughts had just taken, and the significance of it, she paused at the top of the stairwell. When had she stopped looking forward to investigating possible infidelities? It was what her practice was based on.

  She also liked catching up with a former client. That was it. Relieved, she jumped back into motion. Once in her bedroom, she unzipped her boots, tossed them into the bottom of the closet and
headed for the bathroom. She’d avoided thinking about Cole while on her trip. After all, this was only a fling, and she was long past the time in her life when she would dwell on a man. However, seeing her bed, she found that the memory of being twisted among the sheets, with Cole’s hips pounding against hers, took center stage.

  Okay, new rule. Flings should take place out of the bedroom. Away from anyplace familiar, for that matter. Hotels. His home. Wherever. Just not here.

  She tried to ignore the twinkle in her eyes, which she spotted while standing in front of the bathroom mirror. She quickly spread some cream on her cheeks. No, she couldn’t ignore the twinkle. Things were good. They were the best they’d been since she’d drop-kicked that bastard Keith out of her life. Before, even. She’d never felt such a sense of accomplishment, or purpose, not even as a police officer. That appearance on Just Between Us had really solidified some things in her life. Professionally, she was doing all right, but now, with the added business, she had true financial security. And great sex to boot.

  She finished cleaning her face with a tissue and was about to brush her teeth when the phone rang. “Hello,” she said, forgetting to check her caller ID.

  “You make it back okay?”

  Her breath caught. Cole. Despite the fact that calling to check on someone was against fling rules, Jessie felt warm all over. “Yes.”

  “You don’t have to work a case tonight, do you?” he asked, his voice low and sexy and all ready to send a thrill down her back if she’d let it. Could Cole Crawford actually be calling her to ask if she were up for a little late-night sex?

  “No, I figured I’d be too tired after the weekend.”

  “That’s too bad. I have a case just for you.”

  She wound the phone cord around her finger. “Let me guess. Only I can solve it?”

  He laughed softly. “Correct.”

  “That’s a very corny line,” she said, smiling.

  “I’m a little rusty.” Although, he sounded confident and not one bit embarrassed.

  She laughed in turn, glad he didn’t try to deny he was using a line on her. Somehow it made it all the more fun. “I might be up for delving into some…corruption.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Jessie remembered her new fling rule. “No, I do my best work at the scene of the crime. Your place.”

  A long pause greeted her statement. “Okay,” he said slowly. His voice definitely didn’t have the same playful, husky tone.

  She had to remain firm. Rules were rules.

  “See you in an hour? You have my address?”

  Relief hit her. She hadn’t irritated him. “Yes on both counts. I Googled it.”

  Jessie heard him laugh as she replaced the receiver. She almost skipped to the bathroom. She wasn’t going to worry about makeup, but she did need to put her hair back into a ponytail. Her lips twisted in a smile. Cole wanted an investigation. He’d get exactly what he was after.

  She stripped off her clothes, then stood naked in front of her chest of drawers. In the back was a shocking red g-string thong and matching peekaboo bra. Her “almost was” maid of honor had given it to her shortly before Jessie’s canceled wedding. Jessie had almost thrown the lingerie set away. And although she didn’t really need the proof, wearing it tonight would prove to herself she’d finally left Keith, physically and mentally.

  She stepped into the panties, gliding the material over her thighs. Goose bumps formed on her legs in anticipation of Cole’s fingers sliding that material right back down. The bra quickly followed, and she slipped into a pair of red heels she’d bought on a lark. Every self-respecting P.I. should have at least one trench coat in her possession. When she started her business, she’d bought it and a fedora as a joke. That hat would complete her costume tonight.

  Jessie should have felt silly in the outfit, instead, she felt wonderfully sexy wearing next to nothing under that coat. She raced to the car. She’d risk being early. The soft lining of the coat sensually caressed her skin. She put her foot on the gas and her car moved through the Atlanta night quickly.

  Jessie pulled into a parking space in front of Cole’s apartment complex and took a deep breath. He lived in not such a great area of town. She hadn’t realized that when she’d jotted his address down earlier. She’d be almost nervous here alone at night, and she knew self-defense. Had she copied the address wrong?

  Her heart gave a quick jump when she spotted Cole waiting for her by the iron stairs. He stood under the security light, the moths zooming above his head. He was at her car door before she had a chance to open it, his expression concerned, and maybe a little embarrassed.

  “I called you back to say we should meet somewhere else, but you’d already left.” The grooves beside his mouth deepened. “I’ve never brought anyone here before. The rent’s cheap and I can save up…for the girls.”

  Her stomach clenched. She hated how this proud man felt he had to explain. There was a time when Cole had only had his pride, and then that had been taken by his father.

  She smiled up at him. “No distracting me. I’m on a very important investigation.”

  “Well, I—”

  The coat parted as she stood, revealing a long length of her naked leg.

  Cole’s expression relaxed as he helped her out of the car. His eyes narrowed as his gaze traveled across her bared skin.

  “I need to inspect the scene immediately.”

  “It’s a dangerous place.”

  Jessie ran her finger along his strong jawline. “I’m counting on it.”

  He led her toward the stairwell and ushered her inside. Cole’s place didn’t have a lot of furniture. There was a recliner, a TV sitting on a milk crate and a beat-up chrome kitchen table with two mismatched chairs. Clearly, he didn’t bring his daughters here. He’d mentioned he never brought anyone. Any woman, her mind supplied. Despite being against fling rules, she liked it.

  The air held a hint of piney cleaner, Cole’s citrusy-mint cologne and him. She took in a deep breath and scanned the space. Investigative habits were hard to break.

  The one thing that added any kind of personality to the place was the wall of pictures. They featured two little girls in various ages from babyhood to school age. The photos reminded Jessie that Cole had a life completely different from the one she knew.

  That’s the way it would stay. And yes, she’d ignore that strange pang in her heart.

  Other than their blond hair, they favored Cole. Lucky girls. They each had an infectious grin. Had Cole been born with a different life, had a different father, would he have possessed that same spark as those little girls? She hoped so.

  More pictures lined the hallway. She assumed that corridor led to his bedroom, and it was the area of his home that needed the most investigating.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  No drinks. No stories. This was a fling, so picture speculation should also be out. She could, however, role-play.

  She shook her head and stalked toward him, poking his shoulder. “Don’t distract me from my job. Something very improper has or is about to happen in this apartment.”

  He lifted a brow in mock surprise, but stood his ground under her investigative threat.

  Jessie took a slow walk around him, unfastening her coat. When she faced him again, she stuck her hands on her hips, giving him a full view of what she wore underneath. Which wasn’t much.

  Cole sucked in a breath, his gaze wild and all over her body. “I confess. Make me pay.”

  She laughed, then gasped as he lifted her off her feet and carried her down that mysterious hallway. He lowered her in front of the bed. Those he-man tactics were actually kind of hot. Her skin flushed. Maybe she’d let him do the macho man stuff to her later.

  “Are you trying to take over my investigation?” she asked as she slid down his body and found her shaky legs once more.

  His eyes darkened in the lamplight of his bedroom. This space was just as sparsely furnishe
d as the front, but the bed with the champagne colored silk sheets looked, oh, so inviting. “I see you turned down the covers. Easier to get into bed. I like a man who thinks ahead. Silk? Quite illicit.”

  He stripped her of her coat and his fingertips trailed lazy patterns on her flesh. “Illicit is how they’ll feel on your skin.”

  “Embracing your shady side, I see. Let’s put it to the test. Just so you really feel like this is punishment. We’ll call this game ‘Let’s See How Much Cole Can Take.’”

  His body already showed signs that he was up for this. She yanked his shirt from his jeans, anxious to get him naked.

  “I’m thinking first I’ll stroke every inch of your skin.” With her fingers, Jessie lightly traced the pattern of his muscles. She began with his chest, the hair there tickling her palms. Leaning forward, she kissed each nipple. Ran her tongue around the hard tip. Cole groaned, his hands fisting in her hair.

  “I’ve heard some men have nipples as sensitive as a woman’s. Is that true?”

  “Find out,” he said, his voice a groan.

  She grazed him gently with her teeth, and he moaned above her ear.

  She lowered her hands, running them along his ribs. She loved the way goose bumps appeared on his arms. His stomach dipped as she moved her palms along the flatness above the waist of his jeans. She grew wet at the feel of his muscles bunching as she wound a path down his body.

  His hands sought her breasts. His fingers tried to slip under her red bra.

  “No touching. This is my investigation.”

  Her fingers found the top button of his jeans and guided it through the hole. The bulge behind the zipper grew larger. She loved the way his body responded to her touch. She could play this game all day. But she didn’t want to wait, and pulled down the zipper.

  Cole disobeyed her rules, stroking her skin.

  She wrapped her arms around his hips, then sank her hands down the back of his pants. She cupped that cute butt of his, loving the play of muscles again. Hooking her thumbs around the waistband of jeans and briefs, she gave a careful tug. Once free, his cock thrust forward, erect and waiting for her. He kicked his shoes and pants aside.