Radclyffe - Sheltering Dunes

The last person off was a lean guy in jeans, a black T-shirt, and motorcycle boots. Slicked-back black hair, dark eyebrows, and a swagger that said he knew he was hot. At first glance he looked a little like Bri, but not when you really knew Bri. Sure, Bri looked just as tough, just as sexy, but she still had a little tenderness along her jaw that Allie knew from experience softened when she kissed. Bri’s soft side wasn’t as well hidden as she liked people to think, but Allie would never tell her that. Everyone needed their armor—young studs like Bri maybe most of all.

Reese had said to pick Detective Dellon Mitchell up in plain clothes, which had seemed odd but she didn’t question the chief, not on this detail for sure. She still had the lead, but things were getting complicated fast, and she didn’t want to get pushed aside—especially not for bucking the boss’s orders.

Detective Mitchell, ’cause that’s who this guy had to be, grabbed a canvas duffel and headed to the door. Their eyes met through the glass and Allie smiled. Well now. Detective Mitchell wasn’t all he wanted people to think either. He was good, really good, and she doubted anyone who lived anywhere in the world except Provincetown would ever know. Another time, another life, and she would’ve wanted to peel off Detective Mitchell’s armor and find out what was underneath. She knew what was underneath his jeans, and she liked that idea too. Interesting detective the Philadelphia PD had sent up.

Mitchell grabbed the door and pulled it open, and Allie held out her hand. “Allie Tre—”

Mitchell swung an arm around her waist, pulled her against his tight hard body, and kissed her on the mouth. Allie had one second to curb the reflex to plant her knee in his nuts and her fist in his face, and then she went with the kiss. She bet Mitchell could kiss when he wasn’t faking it. Even closed-mouthed, his lips were smooth as silk. Allie pressed a palm to his chest and pushed away.

“Easy, boy.”

Mitchell grinned. Brilliant blue eyes swept over her. “Long time, Allie.”

“Yeah,” Allie said, aware of eyes on them. Curiosity was a fact of life in a small town, and there’d be speculation with a greeting like that. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, and she hoped there was a damn good reason for it. “What’s it been—three years?”

“More like five.”

“You got anything else?” Allie said, tilting her head at the single carry-on.

“Nope. I travel light.”

Allie didn’t detect a weapon, but she knew there was one. Probably his regulation piece was in his bag. “Okay. Let’s go, then.” They walked as they talked, and in seconds, they were outside. “Nice entrance. Next time give me a sign before you head off trail.”

“Sorry, I guess the bosses were still refining the game plan while I was flying up here. Got a message just as I was leaving Boston that we were supposed to have history.”

“History.”

“As in exes.”

“Great.” No warning about that little item. Reese probably tried to call and couldn’t get Allie on her cell phone. She wasn’t in uniform and didn’t have her radio, and the Race Point airport was a dead zone half the time. Well, the plan was in motion now after that kiss. She had driven her own car and pointed to the black Camaro. “That’s me.”

“Nice ride.”

“Uh-huh. Yours?”

“Harley.”

Allie snorted. “Figures.”

Mitchell slid into the front seat as Allie got behind the wheel. “How so?”

“The boots.”

“They could be for show.”

Allie started the engine and turned to face him. “It’s no show, though, is it?”

“How much do you know about La Mara?”

“I’ve been briefed.”

“Then you know just how tight we have to run this. You can call me Mitch, by the way.”

“You always work this way? Undercover?” Allie backed out of the lot and headed toward town.

“Depends on the case, who I’ll be talking to, how I’m most likely to get people to talk to me. Mitch is a friendly guy.” Mitch smiled. “And legit. I’m a member of the Front Street Kings. I manage backstage stuff for the drag show when I can.”

“They tour up here?”

“They’d like to. The Boston guys have it kind of sewn up, but you never know. I’ll be asking around about bookings as part of my cover.”

“And when we talk to Mica?”

“I thought I’d get your take on that,” Mitch said, easing back in the seat, wanting to appear laid back. He stretched his legs out into the wheel well and draped an arm along the window. Officer Tremont wasn’t at all sure about him, that was pretty clear. He didn’t blame her. All cops were territorial, if they were any good. Right now, he was the lone wolf in more ways than one. Tremont was a few years younger than him, but she had the looks of an alpha female. Smart sharp eyes in a face that wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of a magazine. She was in plain clothes, but she was carrying like any good cop would be under the circumstances, and her weapon rode easy on her hip. No doubt she knew how to use it. He wasn’t packing anything except his dick at the moment, and as soon as he could get to his duffel, he’d have his weapon on too. But he understood the rules. He was on Tremont’s turf, and he needed to show her the appropriate respect. “I’d like to give Mitch a chance to be seen around town with you in a friendly fashion. Establish my cover right away.”

“When we talk to Mica, she needs to know you’re Philadelphia PD. You ought to meet her that way.”

“That works for me. Once Mitch gets settled in a room somewhere, I can call you and meet you at the department more formally.”

“I think that will work. Even if Mica bumps into Mitch in town after and makes you, she’s not going to blow your cover. Why would she? She doesn’t gain anything by putting a cop’s life in danger or by even letting anyone know she’s talking to one.”

“That’s what I thought too.” He glanced out the window, trying to get his bearings. Bradford Street.

“You ever been here before?”

“A long time ago, when I was…in college.” Actually, Dell had come up with another cadet when they’d had a three-day furlough. They’d been looking for a place to have sex where they wouldn’t risk being discovered. They hadn’t seen much of the town, they’d been too busy discovering each other. In the long run, their caution hadn’t helped. But none of that mattered now. She wasn’t in the army. She was a cop, she had Sandy, and that was everything she’d ever wanted.

Allie crossed Bradford and turned down Commercial. “A few people just saw me pick you up, though.”

Mitch grinned. “We’ve got that covered. Remember, I’m an ex-lover.”

“Huh. I don’t know how believable that’s gonna be.” Tremont smiled, a smile that suggested Mitch would’ve been lucky to ever have gotten over on her.

He laughed. “If anyone asks, you can always say I didn’t measure up.”

“I have a feeling you would, but I can work with that.” Tremont parked. “That story might just be believable. I guess we’ll find out, because I’m taking you to breakfast at Café Heaven. A lot of townies eat there, and trust me, there will be questions. And talk.”

“Good. Go ahead and let them know what a jerk I was to let you get away.” He didn’t doubt for a second she’d left a string of worn-out women behind her. She was too hot not to have broken a lot of hearts. No ring. He wasn’t wearing his either. He didn’t when he was undercover. He thought about Sandy, how good she looked in uniform. How great she looked out of it. He thought about the send-off she’d given him early that morning after the lieutenant had called and said she had a job for Mitch. Sandy liked to make sure Mitch knew where he belonged, seeing as he often had to get close to women when he was undercover. He didn’t mind her staking her claim—he liked knowing the rules, liked knowing where the line was. “Unless you think it would be more credible for me to come crawling back. I’m willing to play if you are.”