Undone by Moonlight

She answered wearing jeans, a gray sweater and a scowl.

“I shouldn’t have taken off so abruptly,” he said in a rush.

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s almost an apology.”

Was he really such an ass to her? Uncomfortable with the idea, he shifted his weight. “Sorry. I did—do appreciate your help.”

“Uh-huh. Did you also suddenly remember I have your pain pills?”

He winced. “That crossed my mind.”

After a lengthy pause, she opened the door wide. “Damned if I don’t owe Victoria twenty bucks.”

“I haven’t forgotten I owe you for last night,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“You’ve bailed me and my friends out of several messes the last few months.” She shook two white tablets out of the prescription bottle she scooped off the kitchen counter and handed them to him with a glass of water. “I think we can call it even.”

He swallowed the pills, though he knew the medicine would muddle his thoughts. Anything was better than the jackhammer that seemed to have taken up permanent residence between his ears.

She sat on the sofa and picked up a legal pad from the coffee table. “So who wants to frame you?” she asked, all business.

He sat beside her, keeping a safe distance. The last thing his confused brain needed was more kissing, though from her tone so far he guessed he’d blown another chance anyway. “Who doesn’t? I’ve arrested a lot of people over the last fifteen years.”

Her pen poised, she rolled her eyes. “Specifics, Detective. Names, dates, circumstances.”

“That’ll take days.”

“You’ve got other plans?”

He peeked at the pad and saw it contained a record of everything that had happened the night before, along with times and locations. “Case notes? That’s something cops do.”

“It’s what writers do, too. So spill.”

“I’ve been involved with hundreds, maybe thousands of busts. I’ll need access to the files at the department.”

“What’s the chance of Meyer letting you do that?”

“Zero.”

“You’ve got friends inside the department, right? Somebody who can pass on information, give us details about the case against you?”

He shook his head. “I doubt anyone would risk their own job to break the law and help me. I wouldn’t ask them to.”

“You don’t have friends, then.”

“Not everybody is as tight-knit as you and your gang.”

She scowled. “We’re not a gang, and you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss, as you’re going to need us in the coming weeks.”

Weeks? Devin fought a cold sweat. His vow not to get mixed up with Calla was shaky after they’d spent a few hours together. He’d never last weeks.

Or would he? Was he making too much out of their attraction? He’d been working virtually nonstop the past few weeks, closing several cases. He needed … companionship. Maybe if he gave into his urges, he’d get her out of his system. Then he could be in the same room with her without panting.

Although telling her that plan would buy him a oneway ticket out the door.

She waved her hand in front of his face. “Gone to la-la land already?”

No way. He’d be in a better mood if he had. “This whole thing will be cleared up in a few days. Neither the department nor IAB will take the word of a sole witness.” Which was a good thing for him, since his record wasn’t exactly spotless where the cops’ cops were concerned. “They’ll have to find physical evidence. They won’t, since I didn’t touch the guy.”

“Evidence like the scrapes on your knuckles?”

He glanced down at his hands, noting the raw skin on his right. His heart jumped. “I hadn’t noticed them.”

“You’re confused and probably have a splitting headache. It’s understandable.”

“No,” he said slowly, “it really isn’t. I’m a trained observer. Why didn’t I see that?”

“The doctor said you’d have some side effects from the blow to your head. Shock and confusion are numbers one and two. Are you dizzy, as well? You should probably lie down awhile. We can table this discussion for now.”

“I’m not dizzy,” he ground out. He wasn’t going to let her treat him like a scared kid. Or, worse, a victim.

The mistakes of the past were rounding on him with a vengeance. He already had a huge blemish on his record. The chances of his lieutenant standing by him over another one weren’t good.

Infuriated and embarrassed, he turned to pace, wobbled on his feet and grasped the air for balance. She was on him in a second, sliding her arm around his waist. “I’ve got you.”

Closing his eyes to her compassion, he longed to shoot something—preferably the creep who’d whacked him—but they’d taken his damn gun.

He didn’t resist when she led him to the sofa, though he knew he should. Ever since he’d woken up, he’d felt as if time were jumping forward, then pausing, rewinding, then jerking ahead again. Yet of all the things he had no idea about, he knew one thing for certain: time moved in only one direction.

“I expect you’ll remember everything eventually,” Calla said, sitting beside him, wrapping her hand around his. “Though some people who’re severely traumatized never fully regain—”

“I’m not traumatized.”

“Whatever you say, Detective.”

What happened to Devin? Last night she’d— There was the rewind again. He recalled sliding his hand between her thighs, his name on her lips as she … told him to back off.

Great. The idiotic behavior he’d sort-of remembered earlier hadn’t been imaginary. He should really slink home before he humiliated himself further.

Her thumb glided across the back of his hand, and he went hard. Oh, good, to add to the complications he had no idea how to solve, now his head wasn’t the only part of him throbbing.

“Do you want to lie down or continue talking about suspects for your assault?” she asked.

“Suspects,” he said quickly. Lying down meant a bed and sheets and— “I need to clear this up and get back to my life.”

Her gaze flicked to his. Her blue eyes were bright and clear and so beautiful. He didn’t belong in the same room with her, much less deserve her loyalty. “I kind of like having you here at my mercy.”

“I don’t like relying on anybody.”