“You won’t know until you try, sweetheart. ”
Her boss pushed back his stool and stood. “Good luck, Driscol. You’re going to need it.” As he skirted past them toward the exit, he raised an eyebrow at Bowen and lowered his voice. “Told you… something about her. Use the head on your shoulders.”
Sera pretended not to hear, smoothing a hand down her apron to free it of wrinkles. “I’m going to get back to work,” she said to Bowen. “I’d rather you weren’t here when my shift ends.”
“That’s
a
shame.
I
just
got
comfortable.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Listen, I don’t care what arrangement you made with Hogan. I’m the only one who decides how I spend my time.”
He sipped his whiskey, rolling it around on his tongue before swallowing.
“You didn’t mind my company when I had you up against the hallway wall.”
Sera knew her face flushed when he chuckled. “Momentary insanity,” she mumbled.
“You saying I drove you insane, Ladybug?” He winked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Don’t.”
“I’ll be right here when you finish.”
The double entendre in his voice was so glaringly obvious, she almost laughed. Almost. She worked with cops, after all. She’d quickly grown used to sexual innuendo. Not that she ever participated.
Throughout the remaining three hours of her shift, she had to take several bathroom breaks to cool off, patting her face down with wet paper towels. On the occasions she gave in and looked over at Bowen, he was staring in a way that made her pulse skitter and race. She felt sweaty and hot in an unfamiliar way.
The distraction wasn’t appreciated, and yet after a while she began posing under his watchful eye. Angling herself toward him, arching her back when it wasn’t necessary. Flipping her hair over her shoulder like an idiot.
Yes, her goal had changed with Bowen’s unexpected arrival. She’d decided to use this attraction between them to her advantage, but it made her nervous exactly how much the prospect of his hands on her again excited her.
The only way to survive was to immerse herself in the role. Stop thinking like Seraphina the cop and simply be Sera, the waitress. Bowen wanted her and she could admit to wanting him back, much as it annoyed her. After all, she had no guarantee he hadn’t had a role in her brother’s murder. That in itself should be enough to eliminate any inconvenient attractions. Why didn’t it?
When ten o’clock rolled around, she untied her apron and tossed it into the waitress
station
cabinet.
With
a
fortifying breath, she turned, intending to leave through the fire escape exit leading upstairs. She stopped short when she saw Bowen propped against the wall, waiting for her.
This is it, Sera. Too late to turn back now.
He pulled open the door. “After you.”
Choosing to ignore him until he made the first move, Sera ascended the dim staircase, so physically aware of Bowen behind her, her neck prickled with shiver-inducing heat. The exposed skin at her back singed under the gaze she felt resting there. The sound of his work boots landing on each step echoed through the enclosed space, matching her thudding heartbeat. Would he follow her into her room? Probably. Why else would he be tracing a path behind her up the stairs? In a matter of minutes, she could be naked with one of Brooklyn’s most sought-after criminals.
When they reached her door, she tugged the key out of her pocket and turned it in the lock. She pushed the door open to reveal her small, windowless room, half of which was taken up by a twin bed. The clothes that had been lent to her by one of Rush’s waitresses sat in a neat pile on a single chair propped in the corner.
Bowen looked horrified. “Not exactly the lap of luxury, is it?”
“It’s a good thing they didn’t ask me to fill out a comment card,” she muttered, walking inside. “But it’s only temporary, until Connor gets back on his feet.”
He made a thoughtful noise in his throat and reached down to test the doorknob. “You keep this locked at night?”
She frowned. “Yes.”
“Good.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at her hard. “Lock it behind me when I go and don’t open it for anyone.”
He was leaving? Downstairs, he’d given the impression he wanted to sleep with her. Hadn’t he?
“Don’t do that, sweetheart.”
Her eyes snapped to his. “Do what?”
“Look disappointed that I’m taking off.
It’s killing me.”
She scoffed at that, holding the door wide for him to pass. “Now who’s temporarily insane?”
“Nothing
temporary
about
my
insanity.” He stepped closer, too close, but she held her ground. “I’ll be back in the morning. Have your things ready to go.”
“Why would I do that?”
His laughter held only the barest hint of amusement. “You have no fear, do you?”