Although why would a liar try to justify not getting a degree? What could possibly be her game? “Yep, although I’ve never been there.”
“Well, it’s a very public bar, although surprisingly quiet for Manhattan. You can actually have a conversation there. Without shouting.”
“I don’t believe you. Bars in the city are required to reach a minimum of eighty-five decibels or we yank their liquor licenses.”
“Ah, a sense of humor. Excellent. You should’ve put that on the card. Wait, we yank their licenses? You’re a policeman. That must be exciting.”
“It can be.”
“I’d love to hear all about it.”
Nothing was kosher about this call, or her invitation. Mary had convinced him to try the dating club, sure he’d meet someone nice and steady, but that had been right before the Macy’s parade and the last thing he needed after that fiasco was to be on a Hot Guys Trading Card. Mary had taken care of things. She wouldn’t have lied to him. She was his favorite cousin.
The only thing to do was meet Aubrey at the bar. If Ms. No-Last-Name was half as enticing as she sounded, it might make for a hell of an interesting night. Mostly, though, he needed to get his hands on that card.
“Well, Detective Flynn?”
“I’ll be there in half an hour. How will I know you?”
“I’ll find you, Detective. Trust me.”
Liam smirked. Trust her? Not a chance.
Chapter Two
After the billionth time, Aubrey swore to herself she wouldn’t look at the door again. She managed to keep that promise for a whole thirty seconds. And this time it paid off. Liam Flynn in the flesh, wearing a long coat, black, stylish yet designed for real weather. Not that it mattered. He could have been wearing a bunny suit because there was nowhere to look but his face. And—plot twist—turned out he wasn’t photogenic. It was as if the picture on the trading card was of the smart twin.
All her clever opening lines were swept away on a wave of lust. Just looking at him made her nipples tighten and her tummy flutter, and there was definitely something going on lower down that she refused to think about. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. She was pretty sure a muse wasn’t supposed to make her feel this way. If anything she should have been immune to that kind of instant want. When she’d first arrived in New York, she’d worked part-time at a modeling agency and been around tons of celebs. Looks alone were definitely not enough to capture her interest. But there was something about Liam. He was hers. Or he would be if she could get her act together.
Maybe this was a test. It shouldn’t matter that he was an eleven while she was a seven. No reason to chicken out now. The truth was she was the kind of person whose looks improved up close and personal. In conversation, she was usually fearless.
She could use some of that bravura right now. A couple of deep breaths did squat so she threw back the rest of her vodka. The burn woke something up. This man was the answer to her problems and she wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers.
Womaning up, she slipped out of the booth, squared her shoulders and began the long walk across the small bar. Three steps in, he looked at her. Just a glance at first, but his gaze returned a second later.
He couldn’t possibly know who she was. And still, the stare continued. As omens went, that seemed excellent.
“Aubrey,” he said, the moment she was in hearing range. It wasn’t even a question.
“Very good, Detective,” she said, stunned that her voice wasn’t three octaves higher because at this distance he was stupidly handsome. “How did you know?”
“The way you were looking at me, you were either Aubrey or dangerous as hell.”
“Who says I can’t be both?”
He opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind. Instead, he grinned.
“So, what are you drinking?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t we find a seat?” He nodded at one of the waitresses. “I might want something to eat.”
“I’ve got us a booth, but they’re short-handed tonight, so I’ll get our drinks. It’ll give you a chance to look at the menu. I can personally recommend the sliders. And by the way, this is my treat.”
His smile had gone a bit crooked. “I’ll have a Blue Moon in the bottle, thanks. And I’ll open it at the table.”
She mirrored his expression, glad that he hadn’t objected to her buying the round. And impressed he was being careful about his drink. She’d never gone out with a policeman before, and she’d assumed he’d want to be all macho. “We’re the fourth booth down, the one with the hat and purse on the seat.”
“You walked over here without your purse?”
“It’s underneath the hat.” Turning away, she kept her shoulders straight, her head high. She waited until she was leaning against the bar to exhale a half dozen breaths at once. Paulo, her favorite bartender, showed up and she had him put Liam’s beer and her double vodka rocks on her tab. Drinks in almost-steady hands, she started back to the booth, but didn’t get far.
Lily, a friend from Pratt, body blocked her. “Who is that?”
Aubrey smirked, but in a nice way. “He’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”
“Please. I’d stab my own brother to have a night with him.”
“I happen to know you dislike your brother intensely.”
“What’s your point?”
Aubrey stepped to the left. “Too bad he’s taken,” she said, and yeah, that sounded bitchy.
No one else interrupted, thankfully, so she slid into the booth across from the heart-stopping cop.
“Thanks,” he said as she handed him his drink, but before she’d settled in, he hit her with a very different kind of stare. “Where’d you really get the card?”
She wasn’t shocked. Well, maybe at the timing, but not the question. “Did you call Mary?”
“I left a message, but it didn’t matter. I knew you were lying.”
“I kind of figured, but hey, it worked because you’re here and I’m here…. Besides, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“It looks like you somehow got hold of something that doesn’t belong to you and lied to me about it.” He unscrewed the cap on his beer and took a sip.
“Okay, it is what it looks like, but there’s more to it.”
He took another drink, but his wryly cocked left eyebrow signaled some serious doubt.
“Let me explain.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, his voice dipping into a register that made her toes curl. Sadly, his earlier amusement had left the building. She had a feeling his grip was already on his handcuffs.
Hmm. Handcuffs.
Not the point. She sipped her vodka and faced him with all the innocent earnestness she could muster. “It fell out of the sky.”
His expression changed again, this time to confusion peppered liberally with suspicion.
“The card,” she said. “It actually drifted out of the sky.”
He finally nodded. Took another drink, then said, “Um, are you off your meds, Aubrey?”
She laughed. Which didn’t illuminate the situation at all. As a cop he’d had plenty of strange encounters, everything from getting spit on by a guy in a Sponge Bob costume to talking down a hysterical woman