Regina Kyle - Triple Time

Gabe rolled his chair back and stood. “Let’s go.”

He moved to a coatrack in the corner of the room for his suit jacket and she followed. “You don’t have to take me to lunch.”

“I don’t want to risk any more interruptions.” Or give Jack another chance to hit on her.

“I’m not dressed for any place fancy.”

“You’re perfect for the place I have in mind.”

Half an hour later, they were seated across from each other at a table at the Big Apple Burger Bar.

“So.” She bit into her burger, closed her eyes and moaned. Her tongue darted out to catch a rivulet of juice but not fast enough to stop it from running down her chin. He gripped the edge of the table, white knuckled, resisting the impulse to wipe—or, better yet, lick—it away. There was something about a woman who enjoyed her food that got him right in the groin.

Devin opened her eyes and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Who’s Holcomb? And why does he think you’re a stick-in-the-mud?”

“Nice try.” Gabe took a bite of his burger. “But we came here to talk about you. And your brother.”

She licked her lips and his nether regions stirred again.

“I’ll pry it out of you eventually,” she said. “You know I will.”

“I’m up for the challenge. First tell me about your brother. How can I help?”

“You know people in Child Services, right?”

“Sure.” His mind whirred, trying to come up with a reason why Child Services would be involved. Was her brother a minor? Had he run away? Been abused? Abandoned?

She munched on a French fry. “Victor and I were separated in foster care when he was ten and I was thirteen. I haven’t seen him since. He’s the only family I have left. I filled out an application with the adoption information registry, but...”

“Let me guess. Nothing.” Gabe was all too familiar with the registry. It only worked if both parties signed up.

“Yep. I’m not even sure whether he was adopted or stayed in the foster system until he turned eighteen. And the PI I hired was a total bust.”

“And now you want me to see what I can find out.”

“In a word, yes.”

“I’ll do what I can.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw. He’d figured Devin had had it rough as a kid. He just didn’t know how rough. It made him even more eager to help her, if he could. “But if your brother was adopted, and the adoption was sealed...”

“I know. It’s an uphill battle. But I have to find him, Gabe. He needs me.”

Her hand shook, causing her to drop the fry hovering at her mouth, and Gabe frowned. Something more was going on. Something she wouldn’t—or couldn’t—tell him. But he wasn’t going to press her. Not yet.

He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. A jolt of lust traveled up his arm and through his chest.

Jesus Christ.

What the hell was wrong with him? The woman was distraught, and here he was acting like an overeager teen on his first date.

Gabe gave her hand a quick squeeze and let it go. “I’ll do my best. I promise. I’ll make some calls tomorrow and let you know what I can dig up.”

“Thanks.”

She gave him a sad pseudo smile, and they ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Okay,” she said finally, plunking her water glass down on the table. “Now that that’s settled, I want the whole stick-in-the-mud story.”

Damn. He thought she’d forgotten. Should’ve known better.

“It’s not all that exciting.”

Kind of like me.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She pushed her chair back from the table, stretched out her long legs and crossed her arms, waiting for him to begin.

“All right, but don’t blame me if you’re bored. Seems to be a common complaint where I’m concerned.” He wanted to bite back the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

“Ah, we’re back to that again.” She bit her lip, a move only slightly less enticing than licking them. “Look, about that night...”

“You don’t have to explain.” He reached for his burger.

“Yeah, I do.” The tone of her voice—low and somehow desperate, almost urgent—stopped him, and he put the sandwich down. “You’re not boring, Gabe. And if Holcomb’s telling you that, whoever he is, he’s a moron.”

“He’s my boss. And I’ll let him know you feel that way. I’m sure it’ll make a big difference.” He didn’t feel inclined to mention that his ex-girlfriend was on the Gabe’s-a-snoozefest bandwagon, too.

“I’m just trying to help. You don’t have to get all snarky on me.” She shot up, her chair scraping against the hardwood floor, and reached for her gigantic shoulder bag.

“Devin, wait.” He half rose and put a hand on her wrist, deciding it was better to risk another sexual lightning bolt than let her leave in a huff, and she hesitated. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s a sore spot with me.”

She lowered herself back into the chair, dropping her purse beside her. “Apology accepted. Now what can I do?”

“Nothing.”

She rolled her cornflower-blue eyes, eyes that seemed so at odds with the rest of her coloring. Pale mocha skin. Jet black hair. “That’s not what your friend Jack seemed to think.”

“He’s not my friend.” And he wasn’t exactly thinking with the head on his shoulders.”

“You want your boss to endorse you for something, right?” Devin plowed on as if he hadn’t even spoken.

Gabe took another swig of root beer and nodded. “District Attorney when he leaves office.”

“And he won’t because he thinks you’re too stuffy.”

“In a nutshell.”

“So let’s unstuff you.”

“Unstuff?” His voice rose an octave, and several people turned to stare at them. Could this get any more embarrassing? What was it with him and public humiliation lately? Maybe he should avoid restaurants altogether for the foreseeable future.

“Sure.” She got up and walked around the table, surveying him from every angle as if he was a prize steer. He half expected her to pry open his mouth and check his teeth. “You’re good raw material. I can work with that. And let’s face it, I’m probably the least repressed person you know. By a long shot.”

Raw material? What did she think this was? Cool Eye for the Uptight Guy?

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” She sat back down across from him, pinning him with those blue eyes, now a deeper almost denim. “Consider it payback. For Victor.”

“I haven’t found him yet.”

“But you agreed to try. That counts for something.”

“You’re Holly’s friend.” And, since their kiss, the object of his late-night fantasies. Yet another reason this idea of hers had train wreck written all over it. “It’s the least I can do. I don’t need to be paid back. I’ll take my chances at the Feast of San Gennaro.”

She tucked her hair behind the ear with four piercings. “What’s the feast got to do with it?”

Damn . It was like looking at her made his brain shut down, leaving his mouth to run free. “Holcomb wants me to go with him. Prove I can relate to the ‘common man,’ whatever that means. Get them to vote for me.”

“That gives us...” She pulled her smartphone from her pants pocket and scrolled through her calendar. “Almost six weeks. Plenty of time.”

“Time?” He pushed his plate away. “For what?”

She whipped out a notepad and pen from the depths of her bottomless handbag and started scribbling. “For me to loosen you up.”

4

“YOU WANT TO take me where?” Gabe crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. It had been three days since Devin had announced her plan to “unstuff” him, and truth be told he hoped she’d forgotten the whole thing. Then she’d shown up at his Tribeca apartment looking like a cast member from Hair and said she was taking him to...