What she didn’t say—and her brothers didn’t call her on, because despite all the posturing, they did love her—was that she wasn’t normally the kind of person who got to have that kind of fun.
She stared at her brothers, daring them to try to argue. Making the smart choice, for once, they kept their mouths shut.
“Just be careful,” Rocco said as he took his date’s hand and led her down the hallway.
Paul and his date followed suit, with the leggy blonde giving Gina a chipper wave goodbye as they did so. Once the foursome got far enough down the hallway that they hit the end and had to turn left, disappearing from view, Gina let out a sigh of relief. She would have sank back against the wall, but the one behind her wasn’t made of sheetrock, but muscle.
“We need to talk,” Ford said.
She turned and faced her make-believe, not-even-for-a-whole-night boyfriend and shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
Really, what could she say? Sorry I totally lied about you, but it’s because I didn’t want my idiot brothers sent up the river for punching a cop in the face because of their misguided sense of honor? Yeah, it was time to slink on home like she should have done in the first place.
“Too bad, because I do.” He pressed the hotel room door open wide, the move highlighting his ropy forearm and just how big his hands were. “And I think you do, too.”
Her dress was still partially askew, her panties were in her purse, and her nerves were all twangy, and he wanted to talk? He had to be joking. But then she looked up—way up—at his face and realized he was deadly serious. Either that or he had a resting scowl face. Her gut sank down to her toes. What in the hell had she done when she’d taken that hotel key?
…
Ford flipped the deadbolt on the hotel room door and stayed there with his back up against the wall and watched Gina take a weaving path as she paced in front of the bed. The woman should never play poker—especially not at the Hartigans’ weekly game. She was nothing but a jumbled set of tells. The way she fiddled with the handle of her purse. The way her gaze flicked from one part of the room to another, studiously avoiding him. The way her steps seemed both hesitant and speedy. The Hartigan siblings would empty her kitty of pennies before the fourth hand.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason why he couldn’t bring her to play poker. The wedding planner, with her cute blushes and awkward nervousness, was Gina fucking Luca. Sister to Rocco and Paul Luca, two neighborhood loan sharks with delusions of grandeur. That her name had never come up in the task force’s briefings wasn’t a surprise. The Lucas were bottom feeders, no matter how well-informed they were about the Esposito organization.
So why had he brought her back into his room? It sure wasn’t because it gelled with standard operating procedure to invite a relative of known crime associates into his hotel room while he was wearing only a sheet. If internal affairs knew, his ass would be missing several bite-sized chunks out of it.
Finally, she stopped, crossed her arms in front of her stomach, and lifted her chin a few inches before her gaze dropped from his. “Well, what did you want?”
“You’re Gina Luca.” The words came out because he had no idea what else to say.
She shrugged. “And?”
“Your brothers are Paul and Rocco Luca.”
The tip of her nose turned red, and a splotch of color appeared at the base of her throat. “This is what you wanted to talk about? My family tree?” She tightened her arms around her midsection. “Well, my mom’s Barbara, my dad’s Sal, and my grandfather is Big Nose Tommy, well, was is probably a more accurate description. He disappeared twenty years ago.”
Disappeared. Yeah, that was one way to put probably wearing cement shoes at the bottom of the harbor.
“You need a date to Grandma’s birthday party, and you just told your brothers that I’m your boyfriend.” Okay, not the smoothest of lines or a smart move according to regulations, but he’d never claimed to be the suavest Hartigan in Waterbury.
She snorted. “That was because I didn’t want to have to bail my brothers out of jail because they figured knocking you out cold was the honorable thing to do. Now if that’s all, I’ve got to go.”
So she had idiot brothers, too. He could identify. He needed to step to the side, open the door, and let her go back to whatever life she led. Instead, he stood there like a stump—useless and in the way.
“I’ve been where you’re at,” he said out of fucking nowhere.
One side of her mouth kicked up into an almost smile. “Standing in a hotel room with your panties in your purse?”
He chuckled unexpectedly. “Not quite.” He shoved his hand through his hair. Where in the hell was this coming from? He didn’t talk about this shit. What was next? A look into his feelings about fighting for every case that came his way because everyone on the force seemed to live under the same misconception as his brothers that he should have been a firefighter, like every other Hartigan male since his great-great-whatever got off the boat? Even the idea of doing that made him want to hurl. “I’ve been the one who didn’t quite fit in with my family.”
She rolled her eyes and got some of the same attitude she’d had when she was telling her brothers to take a flying leap. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“Trust me, it’s true.” If she only knew.
Gina just gave him a look that screamed whatever and started toward the door. “Look, I’m sure you’re Poor Mr. Misunderstood, but I’ve got two overprotective brothers who are going to be watching me like hawks after this disaster, a business I’m fighting to get off the ground, and a Victorian that I thought would be a simple renovation, which it would be, if I could keep a damn handyman for longer than a week. I don’t have the time or emotional energy to take a fake date to my grandmother’s party. Thank you but no.”
She stopped in front of him, just outside of arm’s reach, her gaze direct. Her look was the equivalent of a shy-but-still-doing-it-anyway fuck you, and he couldn’t help but grin at her. What could he say, he was an asshole, and her unconscious comfort level with her own vulnerability was endearing.
In his own family, bluster and bravado came in equal, mega-sized servings. To acknowledge weakness was to admit defeat. But with Gina, it didn’t come off that way. She was, as his mom would say, plucky. Sure, she was totally in over her head, but she was plucky—and that turned him on.
“So, this is it?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
Her full lips disappeared, pressed into a thin line before she said, “Yeah, I’m sure you’re not used to hearing that.”
“Only because I don’t give up easily.” Still, he turned the doorknob and held the hotel room door for her.
“Goodbye, Detective Hartigan,” she said, her voice breathy.
Nope. He didn’t like the finality of that.
“Good night, Gina Luca.”
That telltale splotch of blush of hers bloomed even brighter at the base of her throat, and she hustled down the hall to the elevators. Unlucky for him, the doors opened as soon as she hit the down button. He watched until the doors closed and then went back inside before someone reported a perv in the hall wearing only a sheet.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him alone, surrounded by the scent of Gina’s perfume. Too bad that’s all of her he’d ever get. A Luca and a detective on the organized crime task force went together like bulletproof vests and yoga.
After tonight, he wouldn’t be seeing her again. And he refused to examine the tightness growing in his chest at that thought.
Chapter Four