Bad Cop Page 12

  “Although?”

  Piper rolled onto her stomach and lowered her voice. “I did kinda love you crashing my date,” she said. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you sure look good in your uniform.”

  Vance chuckled. “I’m glad it worked out as it did then.”

  “Mmm, me too.” She flipped over. “So what about tomorrow? Will you indulge my fantasy of preparing food in that five-star kitchen?”

  “Piper, rest assured I’d be happy to indulge all of your fantasies.”

  “Ha. Since when? Last night you couldn’t get me out of your place fast enough.”

  “Yeah, well you can just forget about last night. Last night I mistakenly thought it would be a good idea if we took some time to get reacquainted—to get to know each other as adults before I started indulging your fantasies. I didn’t realize I was going to have to take a number and wait in line for a date, let alone to get you to call me back.”

  “Vance, all kidding aside, I’m terribly embarrassed about the way I threw myself at you. My only defense is that I got caught up in you appearing out of the blue, leaning against a Maserati, and whisking me away after all this time. I mean, when does stuff like that actually happen to me?”

  “I’m here to serve.”

  Piper covered her eyes and stifled a groan. Because if Vance had any idea how often she’d imagined him coming after her and demanding they finish what they’d started at that bar—

  “I got caught up in the fantasy, just like I did at The Charlie Horse on Cinco de Uh-oh—reading far more into the situation than there actually was.” She sighed. “I’m not usually a flighty female, but when it comes to you, I have a very active imagination.”

  “Well, doesn’t that sound promising.”

  “But you’re right, of course. We do need to get to know each other as adults. Because when you pulled out your badge last night, it really struck a nerve.”

  “Yeah, and that’s something you and I are going to have a little chat about, eventually. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to come to terms with the fact that you make cinnamon rolls from scratch. Are we talking Pillsbury Doughboy, or Cinnabon?”

  “Pffft. Don’t make me laugh. Cinnabon wishes they had my recipe.”

  “I swear I don’t know another woman my age who has any idea how to boil water. Lord knows Lolly doesn’t cook.”

  “Lolly?”

  “Lolly is my one and only female friend, other than you.”

  “Ah. And you and Lolly are how close?”

  “Close.”

  “Close, as in the two of you have been intimate?”

  “Not that close.”

  “So you’ve never slept with Lolly?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you want to?”

  Silence.

  “So you want to sleep with Lolly?”

  “No. Lolly is my best friend’s girl. Now before I knew that, I may have wanted to sleep with Lolly. But now that Lolly is sleeping with Brooks, and Lolly’s mother is sleeping with my father, and I’m coaching Lolly’s ex-boyfriend on how to pick up women, it’s gotten a little complicated. So no, I have not, nor will I ever, sleep with Lolly.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “That’s a lot of Lolly going on.”

  “Which is why I’m very eager to add a little Piper to my life. And Lolly is eager as well. She knows our story.”

  “Our story?”

  “Fourth grade, Cinco de Hell No, and you locking me out last night.”

  “She knows I locked you out last night?”

  “Yes, because Genevra called her after dinner and told her that you are faaab-ulous. She couldn’t wait to get the details.”

  “Genevra thinks I’m faaab-ulous?”

  “They all do. My father, the Big Em, everyone. So getting kitchen privileges shouldn’t be a problem. What time do you want to arrive?”

  “Early. The dough needs to rise.”

  “Okay. Bring your bathing suit if you’d like. It’s going to be hot and we can spend some time around the pool.”

  Piper sucked in a breath remembering her fantasy of him shirtless, in board shorts, dripping wet. “Officer Evans, you are playing right into my hands.”

  Pulling into the circular drive of the Evans Estate, Piper was supremely glad she’d finally traded her law student VW Bug in for her new I-am-on-the-road-to-success, sporty scuba blue Audi TT. She passed the beautiful carved wood front door and parked, stepping out from the beige leather interior and lifting her sunglasses to admire the mansion before her. Wow.

  She checked the time, wondering if anyone would be awake at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. It was likely no one but Vance knew she was coming since their conversation had ended after midnight last night. However, with her focus on that incredible kitchen and perhaps having the space to herself for a little while, she opened her trunk and started to fill her arms with supplies.

  As she maneuvered her bounty toward the front steps, the door miraculously opened and standing in the threshold was a young man, shower fresh and handsome with thick brown hair. His surprised expression was replaced by an engaging smile as he jogged down the steps.

  “Hey there,” he called, coming forward, dressed in pastel Madras plaid shorts and a white button-down. He immediately relieved her of the overflowing grocery bag and the two flat pans clutched in her right arm. “Are you here to help with Sunday brunch?” he asked.

  “I am,” she said, gifting him with a smile while readjusting the rest of her supplies in her arms. He walked around her, grabbed the last bag out of her trunk and slammed it shut.

  “I’m Davis. Davis Williams. I’m here to assist in any way I can,” he offered, coming back to her side and pointing toward the open front door. “I’m a double black belt in karate by the way,” he added as he fell into step beside her.

  “Really?” Piper said, turning her impressed expression toward him.

  “It’s true,” he smiled. “Inside this nice, safe exterior lurks the skills of an assassin.” He winked at her. “Just wanted you to know there’s more to me than meets the eye.”

  Piper gave a short laugh, immediately enamored. They stepped into the marble foyer, a circular balcony edged with a scrolled wrought-iron banister and short sets of stairs heading up on the right and left. Through the wrought iron she could see into the lower level of the mansion. She followed Davis up the right set of stairs onto a carpeted landing, glanced into the luxurious dining room to the right, and then followed him into the kitchen.

  Davis set her supplies on top of the expansive kitchen island, the one she’d been dreaming about for the last thirty-six hours. It was topped with granite, but not like any she’d seen. It was blue, similar to a robin’s egg, but richer with shades of lapis and pearl. She settled her wares on the smooth surface and ran a hand over it longingly.

  Davis immediately started unpacking her bags.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, starting to help him. “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “Suddenly church doesn’t seem so exciting,” he said, smiling. “The heathens are still asleep. Since I’m the only Catholic in the bunch, I like to get up and out so I’m back before the entertainment begins.”

  “Entertainment?” Piper asked, curious.

  “Oh, yeah. This place is full of entertainment. I’ve been here a couple of weeks and the one thing I’ve begun to understand is that you never know who is going to show up next.”

  “So, seeing me in the driveway?”

  “Just played into my expectations,” he said as he lifted two heavy mixing bowls out of a bag. “You didn’t need to bring all this. I’m pretty sure somewhere in all these cabinets they’d have exactly what you’d need.”

  “I’m trying hard not to impose,” she said as she turned the French range to preheat, inspecting it inside and out. “I’m not even sure they know I’m here,” she said, standing up and smiling. “I’m kind of forcing the issue because
I wanted to roll out dough on this granite and bake in that oven.”

  She pulled her apron from a bag and lifted it over her head, wrapping the strings around her back and tying them in the front. When she turned around, Davis was right there backing her up into the corner of the counter by the oven. She put a hand on his chest and let out a nervous laugh as his hands pressed against the edge of the counter on either side of her waist. He bent down so they were eye to eye.

  “As I mentioned before, I’m here to assist you in any way I can,” he said quietly. “Now, perhaps you’d like to tell me your name so we can become better acquainted.”

  Piper could hardly speak around her nervous grin. The double black belt had captured her attention in a way she hadn’t expected. He was delightfully charming and obviously playful. She noticed his eyes eventually landed on her mouth, which caused her to lick her lips self-consciously and answer him quietly. “I’m Piper Beaumont,” she said.

  “Piper Beaumont,” he said, testing her name with a smile. “That’s a pretty name. Piper,” he repeated. “Where have I heard….” Suddenly Davis straightened. “Damn.” He stepped backward and held his hands in the air. “You’re the one they’ve been talking about,” he accused.

  “Really?” she said, overeager and delighted. “What have they been saying?”

  “Hmm,” Davis thought. “Well, they were all in bed together when I walked in and—”

  “Stop! Who was in bed together?”

  “Vance, Lolly, and Brooks,” Davis said. “Yesterday morning I walked in on them and I believe they were talking about you.”

  Piper blinked a couple times as she held her breath, telling herself she hadn’t heard him correctly. “What do you mean ‘they were all in bed together?’”

  “Oh. Not like that—although I have to admit when I first walked in I thought it was just like that,” Davis said, leaning toward her. “Because, you know, they are close. Really close. And I just wasn’t sure exactly what the three of them have worked out. At first I was disgusted, because really—Lolly’s not like that. And Brooks, hell, Brooks isn’t like that either.”

  “And Vance?”

  “And Vance what?” came the smooth baritone from her left.

  Piper turned abruptly to find Vance coming through the French doors. He was dressed in running attire and using a towel to wipe sweat from his face, brow, and neck. He came forward and smiled. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as he leaned over and touched his lips to hers without getting his sweat-laden body too close. “Did Pinks show you in?”

  “Pinks?”

  “Davis here.”

  Piper’s head was spinning, unable to remember Davis’ name or what they’d been talking about now that Vance was standing in front of her in his skintight spandex shirt. His hair was slicked back, his biceps were bulging. The definition of his chest and the flat plane of his torso were causing heart palpitations. And the exposed parts of his tanned legs that extended from loose, long shorts were firm and shapely, covered lightly in dark hair. Even his ankles were sexy, she thought as her gaze traveled down, and his socks and running shoes were nothing if not just plain cute. Dear Lord.

  Davis came to her rescue. “We were just getting acquainted. I was offering to help.”

  “He mentioned you were in bed with Lolly,” Piper said, still feeling caught inside some sort of stupor.

  Vance turned his head in Davis’ direction. “Well, thanks for that, buddy,” he said as if Davis had done him a favor. “That was probably a huge help.”

  Vance turned back to Piper and wrapped the towel around his neck, holding on to both ends. He nodded his head back toward Davis. “Smart. Ninja-fied. Obsessed with Lolly,” he said in way of explaining.

  “What about you?” she asked. “Are you obsessed with Lolly?”

  Vance leaned his head toward his shoulder, looking at Piper with a gentle smile. “Not anymore. She’s got a place in my life and she’s not going anywhere. I’m happy with that.”

  “You love Lolly.” Piper said it as a statement.

  “I do,” Vance admitted, clasping Piper gently by her upper arms. He spread his legs to make himself shorter and looked into her eyes. “I love Lolly. Lolly and I are having a baby brother together. And we are very excited. We are also standing up for our parents at their wedding. And Lolly takes care of my boy, Brooks. These days he’s a lot less tense and angry. There’s nothing not to love about Lolly. Just ask Davis here.”

  Piper looked over at Davis.

  “Yup. Hard not to love Lolly,” Davis agreed.

  “Does Duncan love Lolly?” Piper asked, bringing her gaze back to Vance.

  “No. Duncan does not love Lolly,” Vance said. “Duncan loves Annabelle. But Annabelle loves Lolly, so ipso-facto…. Now my dad, he really loves Lolly. He calls her Dynamite.”

  “Dynamite?”

  “Because she has a tendency to explode.”

  “She didn’t do that when we were dating,” Davis said.

  “You didn’t know how to light her fuse,” Vance replied without taking his eyes from Piper.

  Davis stomped off in a huff but Vance said to Piper, “Don’t worry about him—he’s doing fine.”

  Piper shook her head quickly as if trying to return to her first concern. “But you—you…love Lolly?”

  “I do. She found a way to help me stop abusing myself and others—which probably started around the time I ran out on you. I am a different man standing in front of you today because of Lolly. So, yeah, I love Lolly and frankly…you should too.”

  Piper simply nodded. What could she do? “Okay, then,” she said, resigning to jump on the bandwagon.

  An hour later, Piper was greeted with a surprised laugh as Genevra appeared in the kitchen looking as lovely and cheerful as a morning rose. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked delightedly, offering Piper a happy grin. Then her gaze landed on the length of rolled-out pastry sprinkled with a combination of butter, cinnamon, sugar, and nuts. “Wow,” she said, her eyes going wide. “That looks amazing.”

  Piper started to roll one of the long ends of the pastry, feeling a little self-conscious being caught red-handed in the beautiful kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, sending Genevra a shy smile as she worked. “Vance invited me to breakfast and I took advantage of that as an opportunity to cook in this kitchen. I’m a closet baker, and the kitchen in my condo is a bit cramped.”

  Genevra held up her hand. “Say no more, I completely understand. Which is why I insist on cooking breakfast here. Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked with renewed amazement, looking around as if she’d never been here before.

  Piper laughed. “I see we are cast from the same mold.”

  “Mmm. The kitchen in my cottage is old and tiny. When I’m in here, I feel like I’m the host of a cooking show. I’m inspired to create.”

  Piper expertly finished rolling the length of dough into a long log. Then she dug out a string of dental floss. “What are you going to do with that?” Genevra asked.

  “I found if I try to cut the sections with a knife, they flatten and warp.” She slipped the center of the string underneath one end of the dough. “But, if I cut with the floss…” she said, crossing the ends over the top and pulling tight, demonstrating as the floss cut through, “…I get a nice, round bun to bake.”

  “Perfect,” Genevra said, looking on and admiring the now-exposed cinnamon swirl. “Can I try?” she asked.

  “Sure.” Piper handed her the floss and watched as Genevra cut the next cinnamon bun off the end of the roll.

  “One more.” Genevra laughed. “This just works so well.”

  As the two women cut the long log into a dozen jumbo-size rolls and carefully transferred them onto two jelly roll pans, they chatted about similar recipes and what else Genevra planned to make for breakfast.

  “Vance and his father don’t eat a lot of grits, but Davis and I love them, so I always make those,” Genevra said. “Emelina’s favorite breakfast is
Eggs Benedict, and I have an amazing Béarnaise recipe which she enjoys, but she also has a sweet tooth, so your cinnamon rolls will please her to no end. I think we should go ahead and start the grits on the stove, fry up a lot of thick-sliced bacon and put it all in the warming drawer until your rolls are ready. Then at the last minute, we’ll scramble up a platter of eggs adding a little feta and green onion for flavor.”

  Piper smiled realizing Genevra had made her mammoth cinnamon rolls the focal point of the meal. She was as gracious as she was beautiful, Piper thought. And if Lolly was anything like her mother, Piper was sure she’d love her indeed.

  The women worked together, sharing cooking strategies and recipe tidbits. Emelina came in elegantly made up for a social event with her hair beautifully coiffed, wearing a loose pair of white linen slacks and an orange gauzy top. And when she recognized Piper standing in her kitchen draped in a splattered apron, she clapped her hands together in delight and declared that a round of Mimosas would be just the ticket.

  As Piper sipped her champagne cocktail, slivered the onions into chives, and chatted merrily with the older women, she felt at once a great longing for her own mother, and a bubbling joy at being included here so completely.

  When she began transferring her fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls onto a large, elegant platter and drizzling them with a thin vanilla-enhanced icing, Emelina left to set the patio table with placemats, cloth napkins, and silverware. Piper turned toward the windows, her breath catching as she spied Vance coming from the pool house.

  As if aware of her fantasy, after having “pumped iron” and showered, he was dressed in board shorts and nothing else. Oh, he had a shirt in his hand, Piper noticed, but the blue Hawaiian flowers printed on his white swim trunks rode low on his hips as he sauntered—as if in slow motion—along the pool, giving her exactly what she’d longed for: a glimpse of Vance without his shirt.

  Her lips parted in awe at his tanned torso, her eyes noting the curve of his broad, muscled shoulders and how they pinched before spreading into well-defined biceps and lengthening into solid forearms. One part of her mind immediately went off on a merry tangent imagining those arms drawing her to him, sliding around her, pulling her close. She felt her body flush in tingling response as her eyes traveled over the sleek expanse of his chest.