So for now, I’ll play his game.

As a cop, even one out of serious commission, I have certain ingrained skills that will never leave me. Even though I’ve been talking, flipping through my phone, and lookin’ like I’m bored out of my mind, I’ve checked out everyone in the bistro, cased the emergency exits, eyed those wandering in, watched anyone who’s left, paid attention to who follows who into the bathroom, and kept tabs on everyone who passed by the large picture window across from us. I expect everything, and maybe nothing at all.

I do another sweep of the small room. There are lots of women here who fit Declan’s criteria. Some have given us the once-over a handful of times. Even now, one smiles my way. She’s pretty, no denying it, but I don’t really care. A fact that gives me a shitload of pause. My attention wanders to the smaller group of tables on my right. It’s there I find her: the right gal for Declan to release his mad moves on.

She’s a brunette, with thick hair that curls just below her shoulders. She walked in alone and is flipping through the pages of a paperback in between bites of her salad. She’s not Declan’s type. In a red dress with tiny white polka dots that hug her hourglass body, she’s more fifties pinup babe than the Barbie dolls Declan usually goes for. Her profile is to us, giving me only a small view of her deep red lips and creamy skin. She might be plain or she might be beautiful; the way her dark hair veils part of her face, there’s no real way to tell. That doesn’t matter, though. Declan never said anything about looks.

I motion with a tilt of my head. “Brunette, red dress. Tucked in the corner.”

Declan angles his body in her direction. He sighs, clearly uninterested. “Fine. But I thought you’d give me a challenge.”

He stands and fixes his jacket. I adjust my seat in the small booth to get a better look, but not enough that it’s obvious I’m watching the show. I chuckle when she crosses her legs and turns the page of her book just as he reaches her. Declan’s right; this girl won’t be a challenge. She seems lonely, defenseless even. Yeah. Glad we didn’t make a bet. This girl’s going down.

Probably on my brother.

“Hello, miss,” he says, keeping his deep voice quiet. “Forgive me, I don’t usually approach women this way, but you look stunning in that dress.”

“Polka dots” turns another page without so much as smiling.

Declan cocks his head, probably dumbstruck as to why this chick isn’t giving him the eye and why she’s still in her panties.

But big bro won’t be deterred. “I apologize for being so forward. But my position as assistant district attorney doesn’t allow me time to meet many women, especially one as lovely as yourself. Would you mind if joined you?”

Holy Mother. He went for the kill and threw in the DA card to seal the deal. Declan’s not messing around.

The chick sighs and turns another page. I straighten. She still hasn’t even glanced up. Declan makes a motion with his hand like, “Don’t worry. I got this,” and lowers himself into the seat opposite her. He chuckles when the woman lifts her chin and finally acknowledges him. He holds his smile, showing off his perfect teeth. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen in a red dress,” he tells her.

She knits her brows.

He laughs again. “Come on, you’re not deaf, are you? I’m trying to tell you you’re beautiful.”

She drops her book and stiffens, using her hands to sign. The term is “hearing impaired,” asshole, she snaps.

It’s then that Declan pales whiter than my ass. Before his mouth pops open and his face turns a serious shade of red. “Miss, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

The woman rummages through her purse and throws down a twenty. “Save it for someone who’ll actually swallow your bullshit, loser.”

She doesn’t bother signing this time—her hands are too busy snagging her book, purse, and coat. She stomps past me, fire practically shooting out of her heels.

Contrary to popular belief, I’m a sensitive and classy guy. So I wait for her to storm out of the bistro and cross the street, and for Declan to plop down in front of me, before laughing my ass off—at him.

“That’s not funny,” he growls.

“Holy shit, you went down in flames.”

“Shut up, Curran.”

“I mean like a fighter plane doused in gasoline, shot with a bazooka, into a burning field.”

“Are you done?” he asks.

I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. “No, dickless. Did it ever occur to you that she might actually be deaf? I mean, come on, Declan. Didn’t you learn anything from all those sensitivity classes you were forced to take? People have special needs—”

“No kidding—I know that. Fuck, I’m going to hell for this one.” He leans in close. “Look, I thought she was, you know, playing me. I’d never insult anyone like that, especially someone who has issues like her—”

“Issues?” I repeat, no longer laughing.

His face tightens. “Someone like her must have struggled. It can’t be easy being a non-hearing person in a hearing world.”

I throw out a hand. “Maybe if you would have started off with something more like that, you would’ve actually stood a chance at getting those legs wrapped around you.”

“I was going for charming,” he says, rubbing his face.

“No. You were going for someone you thought could hear that charm. Maybe you should have gone for sensitive. Then you would’ve had your ass spanked like you wanted to, instead of having it handed back to you.”

“Do you mind? I already feel like a big prick.”

“Well, you should.” I start to laugh again, but then back off when I see just how bad he feels. “Look. The important thing is you didn’t mean it.”

“Of course I didn’t mean it. I would never intentionally mistreat someone—especially a woman.” He curses again and glances in the direction she disappeared. “I should try to find her and apologize.”

“Nah. If it looks like you’re stalking her, it’ll only take you from asshole to creep and you’ll end up on some list. Trust me, if you want that promotion into Homicide, you’re better off just letting it go.”

“I don’t know,” he says, keeping his focus outside. “That was a total shit move, Curran.”

“Declan, relax. Say a few Hail Marys, donate your next paycheck to the church, and thank God that you’ll never see her again.”

He goes quiet. Real quiet, likely thinking things through. “Maybe you’re right,” he finally says. “Some things are better off left alone….”

Chapter 18

Tess

Curran flips on his right turn signal as I finish texting Declan with regard to the case file I was working on. As he makes the turn, I remind Declan to sign the documents I’d emailed earlier.

“Everything okay?” Curran asks.

“Yes. Just wrapping a few things up.” I try to keep my tone light, not wanting to give away exactly how much work I had to do in order to go out with him tonight. And I still have a few chapters to read in Administrative Law before I go to bed later.

I put my phone away and pull down the visor, fiddling with my hair in the mirror.

“Babe, you look great. Don’t sweat it.”

It’s the tenth time he’s said it, and like the first nine, I don’t believe him. “I just wish I would have dressed better.”

Curran laughs, stopping at the next light. “It’s a dive bar on a Thursday in sub-zero weather. If anything, you’re overdressed.”