The Trouble With Love Page 6

  “Don’t you think you were a little overly friendly?” Rocky asked Tasha as they squeezed into the cramped elevator of the pre–WW I building.

  “It’s called networking.”

  “It’s called flirting.”

  “Can I help it if I’m interesting and attractive?”

  “If not modest.”

  Nonplussed, Tasha pressed a button on the brass panel, then inspected her French manicure. “I wanted to prove that at least one of us would be effective as a public spokesmodel for the group. You heard Michael. The publicity department will be targeting magazines, newspapers, and television outlets regarding possible features and interviews.”

  “Yes, but they’re promoting the recipe book, not Tasha Burke.”

  “You bragged plenty, Rocky.”

  “About the members of the Cupcake Lovers and our accomplishments.”

  “Which bordered on tedious after a while. Didn’t you see Brett’s and Michael’s eyes glazing over? I simply interjected a little fun—”

  “Flirting.”

  “—into your dull dissertations.”

  “They asked me about the history of the club.”

  “A blurb would have sufficed.”

  “Blurb?”

  “That’s publishing speak for a snippet, an extremely condensed description.”

  Rocky rolled her eyes as the doors opened and they stepped out of the elevator into the semi-bustling lobby. As if one book offer made Tasha an expert on publishing.

  “You’re just jealous because Brett and Michael only had eyes for me.”

  Dream on, Pinhead. Although Rocky had been focused on business and reeling from the aftereffects of Jayce, she’d still picked up on her own share of male appreciation. Thing was, Rocky couldn’t care less, whereas Tasha cared more than she should. Being doted on and adored by her rich and influential husband wasn’t enough? Talk about pathetic.

  “I feel for you, Rocky; I do,” Tasha went on as they shrugged into their coats. “You couldn’t even attract interest with that revealing dress and tousled hairstyle. Talk about overdoing it.”

  Revealing? Tousled? “I wasn’t trying to attract—”

  “No wonder you’re hopelessly single,” Tasha said. “You don’t know how to play the game.”

  “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be playing at all,” Rocky said as they stepped outside and into the crush of a thriving city. “You’re married. Does Randall know you’re meeting that publishing suit for dinner this evening?” Rocky had overheard that tidbit just before she’d exited the editor’s office.

  “It’s business.”

  “Then why wasn’t I invited?”

  “Envious?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Poor Rocky,” Tasha said, primping the haircut that had cost a small fortune—not that it looked all that different from her usual style. “Your first night in the Big Apple and you’ll be spending it alone.”

  “Actually,” Jayce said, stepping in from out of nowhere, “she’ll be spending it with me.”

  Tasha blinked up at the tall, broad-shouldered, and darkly dressed man. “Jayce Bello?”

  “Tasha,” he said, unsmiling. “Burke now, right? Married to the mayor of Sugar Creek. Designer clothes, private jets, chauffeured limos. Moving up in the world.”

  “Yes, well—”

  “Now you’ve snagged the attention of a New York publisher. What next? The Food Network?”

  “I—”

  “Impressive.” He smiled down at Rocky. “Ready for dinner?”

  The sexy tilt of his mouth shanghaied Rocky’s thoughts. Who am I and why are we standing here talking to Pinhead Burke when we could be alone doing the nasty? “Dinner,” she managed. “Sure.” Just as that killer smile rendered her weak in her knees, Jayce looped a possessive arm around Rocky’s waist.

  “By the way, smart move,” he said to Tasha. “Ditching your wedding ring while in the city. Flashing expensive jewelry attracts unscrupulous attention.”

  Rocky blinked out of her daze and glanced to Tasha’s bare left hand—something she hadn’t noticed during the meeting—then to the woman’s burning cheeks. At least Tasha had the decency to blush, or maybe that was anger, because, man, did Jayce have her number.

  Tasha gave a tight smile. “Don’t let me hold you up.”

  “Call me. Text me. Let me know about tomorrow’s plans,” Rocky said to the woman as Jayce maneuvered her away and into the burgeoning sea of pedestrians. Sidestepping a metal grate and an unidentifiable glob of food, Rocky gawked up at her escort. “You totally dissed Tasha Burke.”

  “Still can’t believe Dev dated that conniving bitch.”

  “The two worst months of my life.” Rocky shook off the memory. Before Chloe, Dev had had sketchy judgment in women. Although his most mind-boggling relationship had been with the bane of Rocky’s existence. “By the way, nice catch on the missing wedding set. I can’t believe I didn’t notice. She always wears those gaudy diamonds.”

  “Even in the tanning bed. Hence the lighter skin around her ring finger, which I wouldn’t have noticed—”

  “If she’d been wearing the rings.” Rocky smiled. “Way to observe.”

  “Part of the job.”

  Another dazzling talent. Along with making Rocky’s blood sizzle and her senses hum. Not to mention his ability to kiss her into a blissful stupor. She tried not to think about the kissing part. They were not a couple. They weren’t even on friendly terms. There would be no more kissing or … “Hey. Hey, wait a minute.”

  Rocky stopped in her tracks, tripping up the person behind her.

  “What the hell, lady?”

  Jayce placated the man while Rocky frantically checked her coat pocket to make sure the person who’d rammed into her hadn’t stolen her phone. Haunted by this morning’s purse snatching, she trusted no one. Jayce, meanwhile, finessed her against a storefront. “You can’t stop like that in the middle of foot traffic, Dash.”

  Still in possession of her Android, Rocky tamped down the panic and fury of being violated a second time. She couldn’t believe how easily she’d been rattled. Cheeks hot, she latched on to her former concern. “You made it sound like we were hooking up.”

  “What? When?”

  “Back there. You told Tasha I’d be spending the night with you.”

  “So?”

  “You mentioned dinner.”

  “And?”

  “Made it sound like a date. What if she says something to Randall and it gets back to Dev?”

  “What if it does? Knowing Dev, he’ll be glad his best friend, who knows Manhattan like the back of his hand, is looking out for his little sister who got mugged on day one. Incidentally, did you tell him about that yet?”

  “Not yet and don’t change the subject.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up and don’t pick a fight.”

  “I’m not…”

  Jayce raised a brow.

  “It’s just … You…” Damn. She’d fallen back on ancient anger like a safety net. Easier than managing her whacked-out libido. Preferable to acknowledging the emotional collateral damage of the mugging and subsequent accident. Both had made her feel skittish and vulnerable. Add to that being unfamiliar with Manhattan and overwhelmed by Jayce … Okay. Yeah. Maybe she’d been a little overdramatic.

  Jayce moved in, ramping her sexual awareness like an airborne aphrodisiac. “Do you want to know more about this big bad private dick or not?”

  Rocky’s heart raced; her inner thighs tingled. Raging lust. Better than panic. Far better than vulnerability. Focus on sex. Sex, not assault. Aggressor, not victim. Control. Take control. Knowing Jayce better might eviscerate her obsessive desire once and forever, or … it could backfire. “What did you have in mind?”

  “How’s your head?”

  “What? Oh.” Rocky palmed her bandaged forehead. “It’s tender, but other than that, I’m good.”

  “In that case, let me show you around. Dinner. Drinks.
First time in the city. Anything special you’d like to do? See?”

  Aside from you, naked? “I did have a list. It was in my bag. You know. The one that got swiped? Anyway, I had a few ‘must-sees,’ but mostly there were things that Gram asked me to do. Things she’d always wanted to do, and I admit they seemed sort of fun.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll think they’re touristy. Boring. Maybe even stupid.”

  “I’d endure boring and stupid for Daisy.”

  Rocky considered the man, his past, and his genuine affection for her eccentric grandma. She sighed. “Yeah. You would.”

  “Let’s start with dinner. I bet you haven’t had a good meal all day.”

  “You’d win that bet.”

  “Italian? Thai? Mexican? French? Name your poison.”

  Rocky eyed the vendor on the corner. The portable silver cart with the heating and refrigeration units, and a striped umbrella to protect food and server from the elements. She’d spied similar food vendors on practically every block, and it was the one city aroma that actually appealed. The devil in her was also tempted to test Jayce’s patience regarding touristy ventures. Embracing the moment, if not the man, Rocky cocked a challenging brow. “I’ll name the poison and the place.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Hot dogs in Central Park.

  Jayce had looked forward to treating Rocky to a sampling of New York’s finest local food. Pasta and cannoli in Little Italy. Dim sum and lo mein in Chinatown. Hell, even something touristy like the contemporary cuisine of Sardi’s. Purchasing hot dogs and a couple of cans of soda from a street vendor and then parking their asses on a cold, hard bench fell short of his expectations. Then again, watching Rocky dressed up and chowing down on a dog smothered in mustard and relish was a bit of a warped turn-on. “Everything you dreamed of?”

  “Not bad,” she said around a mouthful, “but not spectacular either.”

  “You expected spectacular from a street vendor?”

  “There’s one on every other corner. You see them in the movies and on television all the time and people always clamor around them. Figured they had to be pretty good.”

  “Grab and go,” Jayce said, biting into his own dog. “Fast. Convenient.”

  “Satisfying.”

  “Really?”

  “Sampling native food was on Gram’s and my must-do list.”

  And this counted? He didn’t argue. “What else was on that list?”

  “Let me think.” She polished off her hot dog, sipped soda through a straw.

  Jayce watched as he ate. Christ, she was beautiful. And fearless. Down-to-earth, yet complex. Part of what had hooked and intrigued him the night he’d lost his senses and taken her virginity. The same qualities that had haunted him all these years.

  “Observation deck of the Empire State Building, Times Square, Statue of Liberty.”

  “Daisy’s list?”

  “No, mine. Gram wanted to go dancing in a nightclub and speed-cruising on the Hudson River. Oh, and we both wanted to see a Broadway show. I know it’s a lot to squeeze into two days, especially if you have work—”

  “I’m free. Anything else?”

  She glanced at the horse carriages lined along Central Park South. “A hansom-cab ride though the park was on Gram’s list. Romantic, she said.” Rocky shook her head. “In the movies maybe. In theory. But not in real life. Horses don’t belong in big cities. The traffic. The noise. Look at them. They’re miserable.”

  “The city’s steeped in controversy over whether or not to ban horse-drawn carriages. You’re right. Harsh life for the animal.” He appreciated Rocky’s sensitivity. Then again, she was a country girl. Used to seeing animals in a more natural environment.

  “Mentally crossing hansom-cab ride off the list.” Rocky stood and tossed her trash in a nearby bin. “Can we walk instead? Just enough to get a flavor? That way I can at least share a partial experience with Gram.”

  “Sure.” Been a long time since he’d strolled Central Park. Typically Jayce got his nature fix in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park. Smaller yet brimming with picturesque scenery. Woodlands. Lakes. Trails.

  Rocky took off down a path in her sleek black boots. Jayce kept stride. The air was cool, the sun bright. Branches and leaves rustled in the autumn wind. The colorful foliage reminded him of the intense beauty of Vermont this time of year. Walking among nature with a girl from his hometown, a girl from his past, filled Jayce with an unsettling mix of contentment and longing.

  “I’d love to jog through here.”

  “Bad idea.”

  “Why? The park’s like an oasis in a desert. A serene bit of nature amidst steel and chaos.”

  “Do you know how many rapes, muggings, and murders occur in Central Park each year?”

  “No. But it can’t be that dangerous, especially if you stick to populated areas and stay aware. Look at all these people. Families, couples, loners. It’s not like I’d go running in the dark.”

  Jayce wished he could see the dense wooded areas, lush grounds, and multiple trails through Rocky’s naïve eyes, but headlines, statistics, and personal experience tainted his perception. Instead of expanding on his dark thoughts, he held silent. Why spoil one of the “must-dos” on Rocky’s wish list? It was not as if he was going to let her out of his sight.

  Rocky glanced his way, then focused back on the path. “Must be tough. Living day after day surrounded by crime. It’s either develop a thick skin or live in fear.”

  “Or make a difference.”

  “Which is why you pursued a career in law enforcement. Only you left the NYPD after just a few years. You never said why.”

  “You never asked.” She’d spent years shutting him out, obsessing on a grudge he didn’t fully understand.

  Rocky’s cheeks flushed. “I should’ve said Dev never said why.”

  “Did you ask him?” Jayce watched as her flush deepened. Of course she hadn’t asked. Her way of dealing with their one-night affair and the morning after was to build a wall around herself where Jayce was concerned.

  “Fair enough.” She licked her lips and stared straight ahead. “If I ask you now, will you tell me?”

  Fortunately, her cell rang, saving Jayce from expanding on a conversation he didn’t want to have. Not now anyway. His reason for leaving the force was complicated and could be construed as either selfish or indolent. He didn’t want to spend the afternoon defending his actions, nor did he want to look like a pompous ass in Rocky’s eyes. Bottom line, he didn’t feel comfortable enough with the woman to share intimate details of his life. Navigating their complex relationship was like navigating a minefield.

  “It’s Dev returning my call,” Rocky said, jolting Jayce out of his thoughts. He watched as she stared at the screen for another two rings.

  “Get it over with, Dash.”

  She blew out a breath, connected. “Hey, big brother. You got my message?”

  Jayce slid on his sunglasses and pretended not to listen. Meanwhile he stayed aware of their surroundings, unlike Rocky, who kept walking while talking.

  “Yep. The meeting went great. Our cupcakes were a hit. Tasha’s Death by Maple won the honors. Like she needed a bigger head. Overall, Tasha focused more on herself than she should have, but you know Tasha. Anyway, please pass this on to Gram and Chloe so they can keep the club in the loop. In a nutshell,” she rushed on, “we met with our editor and publicist and discussed the proposal the club submitted and how they wanted us to expand on that. Also touched on marketing, publicity, and deadlines. It was interesting, I suppose. I just hope it doesn’t interfere with our charity efforts. I could see…” She shook her head. “Never mind. Don’t get me started.… No, we didn’t sign anything. We told them to send the contracts to our business advisor—which would be you. Speaking of you and business…”

  Rocky veered off the path and started pacing along the edge. “You might be hearing from my credit-card people. No, I didn’t overspend! That’s the least of
your worries. Hard to spend without the plastic. No, I didn’t lose my purse. I … It…”

  Standing on the sidelines, Jayce geared up for the impending meltdown. He didn’t have to hear to know Dev had switched into overbearing-caretaker mode.

  “Listen, don’t overreact,” Rocky said to her brother. “It was nothing. Well, it was something, but I’m fine. My bag was sort of stolen. Some bastard snatched it off my arm when— Yes, I’m fine. I told you— Would you please stop shouting. I’m fine. I’m with Jayce.” Fuming, she passed him the phone. “Dev wants to talk to you.”

  “She’s fine,” Jayce said.

  “What the hell?” Dev snapped.

  “Like Rocky said, someone snatched her bag. The police are on it. I’m on it. Don’t worry.”

  “Don’t worry? My sister’s been in New York less than a day and she got mugged!”

  “It happens. Meanwhile I’ve got her covered.” Jayce kept his voice calm and low, hoping his friend heard between the unspoken lines: I’ll look out for Rocky, like you asked. I’ll keep her safe. It’s not like Jayce was in a position to speak freely. Not with Rocky pacing in front of him, listening to every word, and signaling him not to tell Dev about the car accident.

  Dev blew out a breath. “You’re sure she’s okay?”

  “You know your sister. Tough as nails.” Obstinate as a mule.

  “I’ll wire her some money.”

  “I’ve got that covered, too.”

  “Keep the receipts.”

  “Don’t insult me.” Jayce never took money from friends he considered family. Dev knew that, but they still went through this song and dance on occasion. Like last month when Dev had asked Jayce to do a background search on Chloe. Something that had backfired on Dev but thankfully righted itself. Jayce had witnessed the chemistry between Dev and Chloe firsthand. They belonged together. He recognized a similar spark between himself and Rocky. Although it wasn’t a spark as much as a raging inferno. Potentially hazardous but impossible to ignore.

  “Is Rocky standing within earshot?” Dev asked.

  “You bet.”

  “So you can’t talk.”