Chapter 7

The front of the swanky restaurant reeked of class. Gatsby’s. He’d had to read The Great Gatsby in high school—didn’t understand it then, sure didn’t understand it now. Despite feeling out of his element, Rory held the leaded glass entry doors so Jessie and the rest of the team could enter. Since it was her birthday, Jessie got to pick the place. Who knew she was such a girlie-girl deep down? Tough, dishing out as much as she took, and able to take down any guy on the team, he sometimes forgot she was a girl—and quite an attractive one now that she was dressed in a black mini and wearing impossibly spiked heels. How the hell did she balance on those things? Scott’s nudge in his back kept him from the unconscious whistle building against his lips as Jessie walked away. Man, but she had some legs.

“Close your mouth, Rory.”

He did as his best friend requested. “When did she grow those?” The muttered question drew a deep chuckle choked off by a cough as the object of their speculation turned around to glare at them.

“I’ve even been known to wear perfume.” The twinkle in Jessie’s dark eyes belied the smirk she favored them with.

“So that’s why Hoss always wants to team up with you!” Scott fired off the zinger before Rory could.

“Huh?” The big man had stopped and turned, waiting for the three of them to catch up to the group and only caught the mention of his name.

“Never mind, Big Man. C’mon. You can buy me a birthday drink.” Jessie looped her arm through Hoss’s, and they headed toward the bar. Rory and Scott followed, still chuckling.

The team grouped around a tall cocktail table, comfortable in their skins and with each other. Rory assessed the men and woman he trusted with his life on a daily basis. New Boy had canceled on them, not that Rory had wanted to invite the jerk. Hot date, New Boy explained. It was one more tick mark in the negative column as far as Rory was concerned. Dean Carter would always be called New Boy since he didn’t know how to be a team player. His actions two nights ago just confirmed Rory’s suspicions.

He flexed his right hand, the bruised skin pulling across his knuckles. The pain reminded him of his own stupidity. Captain Davis would make damn sure he ended up behind a desk for the rest of his career if he pulled another stunt like that.

“Hot date, my ass,” he muttered. Carter was obviously too wimpy to show his face.

Scott patted him on the shoulder. Jessie flashed a little smile and added some verbal encouragement. “Hey, the big boss wasn’t happy with New Boy either. He won’t be around long, especially if he pulls another stunt like that one. He’s already on report.” She glanced up at Hoss, towering on her left. “Besides, he’s lucky you got to him before Hoss did.

The normally reticent giant growled. “He coulda killed that kid. Or you or the doc. You ’n’ Jessie had things under control, Boss. New Boy’s dangerous. I told cap’n that.” He glanced down at Jessie. “He coulda hit you, too. And mighta missed your vest.”

The conversation continued, but Rory lost interest as he fixated on a woman sitting in the restaurant area. Dr. Delaney Burns in the flesh. What was the doc doing here? And alone? She glanced up and a smile transformed her face. She waved and he waved back then wanted to cut off his hand. She hadn’t even noticed him. Her gaze was fixed on the man coming through the door. His gut churned and bile rose in his throat. With effort, he unclenched his fists and shook his hands down by his sides to loosen them. Too bad his nerves wouldn’t relax as easily. He could only see what the doc’s date looked like in profile. The way their table was positioned, he could see her face, see the way her eyes lit up, how animated she looked when she replied to something her date said, leaning closer to the guy, touching his arm with an intimate gesture. Jealousy reared its snarling head as his heart hammered.

MINE! The emotion was so powerful he almost choked on it as the word burst in his brain.

Yours. The affirmation whispered in his ear. A voice as sweet as spun sugar soothed him with its slight lilt. Bide your time, Riordan. She’ll be knowin’ yee soon enough.

“Stop scowling.” Jessie punched him in the shoulder.

“I’m not scowling.”

“Yes. You are. If the doc looks up and sees that expression on your face, she’s going to put you on mental health leave.”

“I’m not scowling.”

“Oh yeah. Whatever. Who’s she with?”

“No clue. Never seen the guy before.”

“I know she’s not married.”

Rory cut his eyes to her. “How do you know that?”

Jessie laughed and gave him a friendly shoulder bump. “Because she doesn’t wear a ring on her left hand. Any ring. You’ve been in her office. Does she have any pictures stuck on her desk?”

His brow furrowed as he thought about it. After a long moment, he gave a curt shake to his head. “Nope. In fact, her office is sort of generic. Not much of anything personal there.” Not to mention that when he’d all but kissed her, there’d been none of the righteous outrage one might expect from a married woman.

Jessie turned to face him, shock registering on her face. “Seriously? No knickknacks or art or anything?”

“Not that I recall. Why? Is that weird or something?”

Laughing, she nodded. “Like d’uh. We girlie-girls usually feather our nests with all sorts of crap. Odd that the doc doesn’t. I bet there’s some dark, psychological meaning to that. I wonder what her house looks like.”

Rory wondered the same thing. And he wondered if the guy sitting at the table with Delaney, the guy who even now reached for her hand and squeezed it had ever seen her house. More specifically, her bedroom.

“Dude, if looks could kill.” Jessie chided him so he took a moment to put on his poker face. “Oh, yeah. Like that’s gonna work. You’re still shooting lasers in her direction. Chill out, Rory. I mean, it’s not like you two are...” Her voice trailed off and she stared up at him. She blinked once. Twice. A third time before she continued. “You aren’t, are you?” Disbelief colored her question. “Oh, jeez, Rory, tell me you and the doc aren’t seeing each other.”

“We aren’t.” She continued to stare at him. He felt her gaze burning into his cheek until he finally glanced at her. “We aren’t, Jessie. I’ve never seen her outside of her office or on a scene before tonight. And since she doesn’t know I’m here...” His gaze locked back on Delaney just as the doctor looked up. She looked startled before puzzlement radiated in her expression. A hesitant smile bloomed on her lips before fading.

“Dang it, Rory.” Jessie elbowed him. Hard. “You’re going to scare the woman to death scowling like that.”

“I’m not scowling.”

She didn’t answer him, raising her hand to wave to the couple across the room instead. The man with Delaney angled his head to see what was going on. He raised a hand in an uncertain wave, as if he thought he should know the people Delaney acknowledged. Rory studied him like a target. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Probably about six feet two or three inches tall and around one hundred and ninety pounds. The guy looked fit enough though with the tailored suit he wore, Rory couldn’t really tell. Tanned, he likely played golf or tennis and skied in the winter. Thick, dark hair with a slight wave styled in a longish-cut. Blue eyes narrowed as the man assessed Rory in much the same way. He pushed his chair away from the table and prepared to stand before Delaney’s hand on his arm settled him back into his seat. She said something, glancing Rory’s way before her gaze returned to her escort.

“Rory, this isn’t the place to get into a pissing contest.”

Scott’s calm voice was meant to soothe him. But why the hell did he feel the need to whip it out to prove his was bigger. “Because mine is, dammit.”

“Because yours is what?” Jessie flashed him a fish-eyed look with her trade-mark lopsided grin.

“Did I say that out loud?” Jessie and Scott both nodded. “Look, I’m...Hell, I don’t know what I am. Way off base for one thing. I’m only seeing the doc because the department says I have to. I don’t plan to ask her out.”

Liar.

He glanced around, looking for whoever had voiced that opinion. He didn’t recognize the voice and no stranger stood close enough to overhear the conversation. Had that been his conscience?

Yours. The word crooned in his ear, every bit a love song.

“Mine,” he growled.

Scott’s hand curled around his biceps and yanked. Hard. “Come with me, ol’ son. Now.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order. He didn’t give Rory a chance to argue or pull away. His grip tight enough to leave bruises on someone not as well-muscled as Rory, Scott pulled him toward the back of the bar and the hallway that led to the restrooms.

With his back to Delaney and her date, he could breathe again. He sucked air into his lungs and let it out before swiping the back of his free hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat that had formed there.

“What the hell happened back there?”

He stared at his best friend, read the worry and concern in his expression. Unable to explain, he simply shrugged, one shoulder rising a bit higher than the other. “I have no idea.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed and Rory knew what he was going to say.

Rory held up his hand. “I don’t know, Scott. I...” He shook his arm loose and scrubbed at his cropped hair with both hands. “I...It was the damnedest thing. I...man, I was jealous! So jealous I wanted to march over there, grab that poor guy, and pound his face in.”

Scott shook his head in disbelief. “Jealous? But...Rory, it’s not like you two are dating or anything. Why would you be jealous?”

He shrugged again, feeling both hopeless and helpless. “I don’t even like her. Why should I care who the hell she sleeps with?”

That rocked Scott back on his heels. “Sleep with? Man, are you listening to yourself?”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with the heels of his hands. “Scotty, I don’t know what to say. I...I don’t feel like I’m crazy. But maybe I am?” The pitch of his voice climbed on his last sentence, making it a question. He needed affirmation from the man who knew him best that he was still sane. He didn’t get the immediate reaction he sought.

“We need to talk, Rory. But not here. Not now. This is Jessie’s birthday. We’re here to celebrate with her. Right? I’m asking you to keep it together for Jessie. For the team. Okay? Can you do that?”

Rory couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open. “I’m not crazy, Scott.”

Scotty patted him on the shoulder. “Good. But we still need to put on a happy face for Jessie. Now, go into the men’s room. Wash your face or something. Take some deep breaths and then come back and get a drink. Beer. Nothing hard. You got that?”

He nodded. Scott was right, as he usually was. “Order me a Guinness. I’ll be out in a sec.”

Inside the bathroom, he leaned against the lavatory staring at his reflection. This was definitely a high-dollar place. The room smelled of pine with no undertone of ammonia or the other odors usually associated with the men’s room. The mirror had been wiped clean not long ago so there was no grime to soften his view.

“You almost lost it out there.” His mirror self nodded. “We can’t let that happen again, right?” He nodded. “Right.” Convinced he was okay, he headed back out to meet his friends. Rory jerked the door open and all but collided with the man coming in. Their eyes met and recognition sparked in both their expressions, only for Rory, that spark burned deeper. Yes, this was the dude out with Doc but there was more—some gut level instinct he couldn’t pin down. He knew this man. His brain sorted things out even as he brusquely apologized.

“Sorry.”

“No problem. Hey, aren’t you one of the cops Laney works with?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The younger man appeared amused by his reticence. “She’s a great gal.”

“Yeah.” Rory did not want to stand here jawing with this guy, but his ego got the better of him. “You been dating her long?”

“Connor. Connor MacDermot.”

Something uncurled in Rory’s gut, some hint of a memory obscured by smoke and shadows. “Rory MacDermot.” He didn’t offer his hand but tilted his head, studying Connor. “Have we met before? I know we aren’t related.”

Wearing a jovial grin, Connor looked younger than he’d first appeared. “I don’t think so—met or related either one, unless you testified in one of my cases. I’m an attorney.”

“Yeah, that figures.” He muttered the words under his breath then added louder, “Which side?”

Connor laughed. “Oh, the dark side in your view, I’m sure. I’m a defense attorney.”

“Definitely the enemy.” Why did this cocky pup have to be handsome and congenial? And why did Rory want to like him? Like a curious kitten paw batting the back of his subconscious, memories shifted but nothing coalesced.

“Weird, though, that we have the same last name. You ever been to Ireland?

Rory shook his head. “Not this lifetime.”

His rival grinned, still brash and boyish in his demeanor. “My folks are Irish. Well, my dad anyway. He’s the MacDermot clann chieftain. Mum’s American, though. I spent a lot of time here in the States growing up, so I shed the accent, got my JD, passed the bar, and here I am.” He tilted his head. “I should call Dad, tell him I met a long-lost MacDermot. You do spell it with the ‘a’, right? M-A-C not M-C? Irish, not Scottish? And only one ‘t’?”

Rory held up his hand to stop the flood of information and questions. “No wonder you’re a lawyer. You never shut up, do you.” He managed not to roll his eyes. “That wasn’t a question.” Before he could continue, his phone beeped. Snagging it from his pocket, he turned and walked away. He left Connor standing flat-footed and holding the door to the men’s room open.

“MacDermot.” He listened for a moment then grabbed a passing waitress. Rory gestured for her pen and pad. He jotted down Connor MacDermot’s name, tore off the page, and stuffed it in his front pocket. “The team is here with me. We’re headed to the station now.” He returned the waitress’s things and strode deeper into the bar.

“Head ’em up, move ’em out, cowboys and cowgirl. We have a briefing down at the station. Captain wants us there an hour ago.”

Amidst grousing and grumblings, the group paid their tabs and headed for the door. Rory made the mistake of glancing over at Delaney. She stared back at him, anxiety etched on her face as she watched the quick departure of his team. He offered a reassuring smile even as she dug in her handbag for her phone. She glanced down at it then looked up, puzzled.

He couldn’t risk crossing to her table to explain. He’d never leave if he inhaled her perfume. His groin tightened just thinking about it. Instead, he flashed a wink and pulled out his phone as he pushed through the doors.

She answered on the first ring, her voice breathless. “Hello? I mean...Dr. Burns here.”

“Take a breath, Doc. We’re going in for a briefing. And no, it’s not an incident. Routine stuff. Okay?” Was that a little sigh from her? His chest tightened.

“Oh. All right then. Uhm...thanks for letting me know.”

“G’night, Doc.” He broke the connection before his voice gave anything away. “Dammit. What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Nothing getting laid won’t cure,” Scott assured him.

“Crap. I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

His best friend nodded. “Yeah. You got it bad, buddy. I know you have a roster of girls on speed dial. Call one. Get it out of your system.”

Rory slowly unfurled the fist he clenched around his cell phone, a bit surprised the plastic had survived his death grip. His free hand was also fisted and he forced it to relax. When had that happened? He didn’t remember clenching it. Why was the thought of sleeping with a woman who wasn’t the doc upsetting? He shook his head. No, not upsetting, downright revolting! His libido always ran hot. Once. Before meeting Dr. Delaney Burns. While he could appreciate Jessie all dressed up, in a big brotherly way, he hadn’t considered going on a date in a long time. Not since meeting the doc, if he was honest with himself. Man but she had him whipped. And he didn’t like the feeling. Not one bit. Maybe he’d take Scott up on his advice and call one of the girls he had on speed dial after the briefing. Yeah. That’s what he’d do all right.

Maybe.