Bad Boys of Summer Read online

  He grumbled, dropped his arms to prop his hands on his hips, stared down at his feet. “Okay, so I was hoping she could maybe help.”

  “And you called her strange.”

  “I did not! I said being a pet psychic was strange.”

  “Ha!” Bethany pivoted on her bare foot and marched out. She felt Lucius hot on her heels, and when they entered his apartment, they both stopped dead in their tracks. Lucius bumped into her, clasped her shoulders to keep her from stumbling—and then didn’t step away.

  She felt his broad chest against her narrower shoulder blades. His hard thighs against her cushy rear.

  Marci sat on the floor just inside the door, in her T-shirt and panties, legs crossed yoga style. A long, painfully skinny brown dog draped across her lap.

  “Marci?”

  Tears glistened in her sister’s eyes. “Poor baby, it’s okay now. No one will ever hurt you again. Luscious is a good man. He’ll keep you safe.” She rubbed her face on the dog’s scruff, sniffled and nodded. “I know, baby.”

  Dropping the clothes next to her sister, Bethany sank to her knees. She loved animals as much as Marci, but she didn’t have Marci’s talent. She started to pet the big dog, but he flinched when she lifted her hand, so she retreated. “Is he okay?”

  Marci nodded. “I need a hammer.”

  “Okay.” Trusting her sister one hundred percent, Bethany didn’t ask questions. She climbed back to her feet and turned to Lucius. “Got a hammer?”

  His green eyes narrowed. “What the hell does she need a hammer for?”

  Bethany shrugged. “All I know is that she needs one.” And that was good enough for her.

  He turned his piercing gaze down on Marci. “I don’t want him bludgeoned out of his misery, damn it. I brought you here to—”

  “Oh, puh-leeze.” Bethany shoved his shoulder, unable to credit the course of his imagination. “You should know her better than that. She’s lived in your building for how long now? More than a year.”

  “So? It’s not like we’ve been intimate.” He took a step closer to her. “I’ve talked more with you than her.”

  He had? She shook her head, dislodging the wayward thoughts. This was no time to start daydreaming. “Aren’t SWAT guys supposed to be astute about people?”

  Dark stubbornness replaced his uncertainty. “Yeah, but being around you dicks up my instincts.”

  She gasped. “You’re blaming me?”

  “You—and my libido.” Gaze bright, he looked at Marci. “What’s the hammer for?”

  “We have to take off your closet doors.”

  Because Bethany watched Lucius, she saw his jaw go slack. “What? Why?”

  “He’s afraid of closets.”

  Lucius turned to Bethany for help. She shrugged again and repeated, “He’s afraid of closets.” If her sister said it, then it was true.

  “Well…can’t he just get over it?”

  Bethany looked to her sister to answer that one.

  Tears spilled down Marci’s cheeks. She hugged the dog tight. “No,” she said in a broken croak. “He can’t just get over it. He’s been locked in closets. They terrify him.”

  Silence fell like a sledgehammer.

  Bethany turned to Lucius. She started to reiterate what her sister had just said, but he appeared…poleaxed.

  Then he looked really, really pissed off.

  Muscles flexed all over his big body and he locked his teeth. “Someone locked him in a closet?”

  Gifted in a way that allowed her to feel an animal’s suffering, to understand it, Marci nodded sadly. “It was horrible for him.”

  “Son-of-a-bitch.” Lucius’s fist hit the wall, leaving behind a dent.

  Bethany jumped. Marci jumped.

  The dog stared at Lucius with worshiping eyes.

  Touching his arm, Bethany said, “Lucius, calm down.”

  “Calm down?” he demanded. “You heard him.”

  “Him?”

  “The dog.”

  Talk about whacko…“Uh, no, I didn’t.”

  “Someone abused him,” he reminded her. Then, to Marci, with evil anticipation, “Can he tell you who?”

  Bethany blinked at him in disbelief. “Can he tell her who? What, are you out of your mind? He’s a dog, Lucius.”

  Disgruntled, he thrust his face toward her. “He’s telling her other things.”

  “No, he’s not. Marci can feel what he’s afraid of, but he’s not a talking dog. He’s not carrying on a conversation with her.”

  The comical expression that came over Lucius’s face made it worth waking at dawn.

  His empathy for the dog shredded her last bit of resistance and completely stole her heart.

  Not that she’d let him know it.

  She dredged up a credible smirk. “I guess if you had the name of the abuser, you’d go charging off in search of vengeance?”

  For several seconds, Lucius just stared at her. Then he rubbed his face. “Yeah, something like that. And stop harassing me, damn it. It’s been a helluva day.” He waved a hand. “Or night. Whatever.”

  “Yelling and punching walls won’t help to reassure him.”

  “Actually,” Marci said, “he’s more fascinated with Lucius’s reaction than anything. But he also thinks you’re both nuts, that’s for sure.”

  Lucius looked down at the dog. The dog stared back, his face arrested in anticipation. Bethany could almost swear the creature smiled. His long, skinny tail began thumping hard.

  “He likes you,” Marci told Lucius.

  “Is that right?” Lucius crossed his arms over his chest. “Is that why he soiled ever inch of my floors?”

  “Part excitement at the prospect of having a home, and part fear at being put back out. Plus he hadn’t eaten in a while. His system is fragile.” Chiding, she added, “You shouldn’t have fed him so much.”

  “He was hungry, damn it.”

  “I understand.” Marci shared a look with Bethany, one that said, Isn’t he wonderful?

  Lucius saw that look, and for some reason, took exception to it. Furious again, he strode past them into his kitchen, rattled some drawers, returned with a hammer and screwdriver, and went to work on the closet door in the entryway.

  Marci hugged the long-limbed dog closer. “There, you see? You’re safe, baby. I promise.”

  “He’s not a baby,” Lucius said. “I named him Hero.”

  “Really?” Bethany walked over to lean on the wall and watch while Lucius used the hammer and screwdriver to tap the hinges apart. “How come?”

  “He saved a woman today.” Showing off those impressive biceps, he worked the door loose, hefted it onto a shoulder, and carried it over behind the couch, where he stowed it away out of sight.

  Bethany followed him. “How’s that?”

  “He gave us the opportunity we needed.” Lucius eyed the dog, who eyed him back with keen expectation. “’Course, then he proceeded to destroy my apartment. I’ve already cleaned no less than seven messes. Everything he eats comes right back out.”

  Bethany wrinkled her nose. “Lovely description. Thanks for sharing.”

  Marci said, “He couldn’t help it.”

  Lucius sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He crouched down in front of the dog and rubbed an ear. “All’s forgiven, big guy.”

  The dog’s tail started thumping again.

  Charmed, Bethany said, “You should take him to a vet right away.”

  Lucius stretched back to his feet and turned to stand in front of her. He gave her all his attention, putting her temperature on the rise and making her toes curl. “Got one you recommend?”

  Those words, accompanied by that look, didn’t mesh. Bethany stared up into intense, glittering green eyes. Gorgeous, strong, heroic—and kind to animals.

  He couldn’t be real.

  What he said finally registered. She cleared her throat. “So you plan to keep him?”

  “Yep.” He stared at her mouth.

  Lucius could
be tragic to her emotions at the best of times, and this was not the best of times. “I thought you had a no-pet policy for this place?”

  Without seeming to move, he eased closer until the heat of him hugged around her. “I have a no-roommate policy, too, but you’re here.” And he added: “Again.”

  So she visited her sister often. They were close. Twins, for crying out loud. And this time, she wasn’t just here for the fun of it.

  But what did he care, anyway? Just because she sort of gave him a hard time whenever she came around didn’t mean he should kick her out. Antagonizing him was her way of protecting her heart. Even if she didn’t lust after him, she’d still refuse to gush like the rest of the ladies in the building.

  Chin raised, expression haughty, Bethany informed him, “I’m a sister, not a roommate. It’s an entirely different thing.”

  “If we’re getting specific, you’re a pain in the ass.” His grin went crooked, removing any insult, and he reached out to pinch her elevated chin. “But I suppose, since you’re Marci’s twin, I’ll try to tolerate you.” He dropped his hand and walked off, whistling, to tackle another door.

  Two

  With that parting remark, Lucius made his escape, putting much-needed distance between him and Bethany.

  When he’d first bought the apartment building of six units, he hadn’t figured on renting exclusively to women. Yet that’s what he’d done. He’d surrounded himself with ladies.

  Was he nuts? A masochist? Or too damn partial to those of the feminine variety? Probably the latter. He did love women, all ages, all professions, all sizes and personalities.

  Fellow cops ribbed him endlessly over his circumstances. They nicknamed him Sultan, which he supposed was better than Luscious. If they knew about the twins, he’d never hear the end of it, because they weren’t just twins. They were really hot twins—and one of them currently wore only panties and a T-shirt.

  But oddly enough, it was the other twin who had him twitchy in the pants.

  The one with the smart mouth and quick wit.

  The one with the attitude.

  And those big blue eyes…Of course, they both had pretty blue eyes. And silky, baby-fine brown hair. Lean bodies with understated curves. Soft, full mouths…

  On Marci, he appreciated the beauty, just as he liked the scenery in the park. Nothing more.

  On Bethany, the combination made him wild with lust.

  Lucius held his breath. If he didn’t, he breathed her, and he couldn’t deal with that on top of no sleep and a traumatized, newly adopted dog. Bethany smelled warm, and spicy, and she left his insides churning.

  She also made it clear that she didn’t want to get too cozy with him, and just as he loved women, he respected their decisions. Even when it pained him to do so.

  Bringing the dog home had been a spur-of-the-moment decision prodded by some inner Good Samaritan heretofore unrecognized. Now, dead on his feet from exhaustion and, thanks to his eccentric neighbor’s sister, tweaked by horniness, he…still didn’t regret the decision.

  One look at the dog and he knew he couldn’t have done anything else. Hero deserved a cushy life. He deserved regular meals and pats of affection and security. No way could Lucius have left him behind, or dropped him at a shelter.

  However, he could ignore Bethany. And he would. Somehow.

  She only showed up about once a month. She’d stay a few days, and then take off again. Surely he could last that long.

  But…this was August. And a school secretary probably didn’t work during the summer. So how long would she be around this time? Long enough to make him completely insane?

  He’d just gotten another closet door off the hinges when he sensed her presence. In his bedroom. Real close.

  He stiffened—in more ways than one.

  Without looking at her, Lucius asked, “What do you want, Bethany?” And he thought, say me, me, me. Tell me you want me, tell me—

  “I was thinking…”

  “Yeah? About me?” He lowered the door and shoved it under his bed, then moved to stand right in front of her, as near as he dared without getting smacked. “I figured as much.”

  “No—”

  “Don’t fight it, Bethany.” He tried to look serious, but the expression on her face made him want to laugh. She riled so easily. “It’ll only make it harder on you.” And harder on him, too.

  “You are so—”

  “What?” He made his tone intimate, provocative. “Tell me.”

  But she got distracted with a T-shirt he’d left wadded up on the mattress. As if he had cooties, she lifted it with her fingertips, raising it so she could read the front. “I only look sweet and innocent.” She rolled her eyes. “Gawd, your shirts are so lame.”

  “It’s true.” Wishing he could drop on the bed the same way she just dropped that shirt, Lucius ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “On the inside, I’m all bad boy.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Dead serious, he said, “You’re every bit as hot as your sister. Probably more so.”

  She froze.

  “Given what you said earlier, I thought maybe you were unaware—”

  “Be quiet!”

  He grinned. Would it be as easy to get her going in bed?

  Marci poked her head into the bedroom. She looked from one to the other, but settled on addressing Lucius. “I’m running back to my place to get showered and dressed.”

  “Okay.” He made a concerted effort to keep his gaze on Marci’s face and off her bare legs—legs he knew looked identical to Bethany’s.

  “Then I’ll take Hero to the vet for you. I’m wide awake now, and you look exhausted.”

  “I’m fine,” he lied. SWAT guys did not go around whining about exhaustion. They sucked it up and toughed it out.

  “He’s pooped,” Bethany said. “Look at the circles under his eyes.”

  He did not have circles. How dumb. “That’s irritation, not weariness, smart-ass.”

  “Ha!”

  “Is that your answer to everything? I thought school secretaries were more articulate.”

  Marci crossed her arms, which plumped up her breasts—not that he noticed. “I’m assuming that if Hero rescued a lady, you were in a high-risk situation?”

  Lucius rolled one shoulder. “You could say that. But thanks to the dog, no one got hurt. He proved enough of a distraction that we saved a woman from having her throat sliced open.”

  Bethany gasped, reminding Lucius that bloody, brutal murders weren’t everyday conversations in her world. After being a cop for fifteen years, ten of those years on the tactical unit, he’d grown accustomed to nerve-wracking experiences. The twins hadn’t.

  “She was kidnapped?”

  “Not exactly. See, her son held her captive in her own home.”

  The women wore similar aghast expressions, putting Lucius at a loss for words. The dog came to his rescue by slinking in at that precise moment.

  Again, Lucius crouched down. “Hey, boy. You feeling better now?”

  Hero crept forward and butted his head into Lucius’s side. Lucius stroked him, carefully because while the dog looked strong enough, he hadn’t been treated well and Lucius didn’t want to startle or alarm him. He’d rather take a beating himself than make Hero feel threatened.

  Hero wallowed in the petting for about thirty seconds before leveling a cautious stare at the wide-open closet. He gave it a wide berth on his path toward…Lucius’s bed.

  Swallowing a groan, Lucius said softly, “No, he’s not,” with a touch of desperation. “He’s not.”

  Marci said, “Shhh…He’s finding his place.”

  “But please, not in my bed.” Lucius pushed wearily to his feet. He needed sleep himself, damn it.

  Both ladies frowned at him, making him feel like an ass. But he hadn’t had a chance to bathe Hero yet and he sure as hell didn’t want to sleep with fleas.

  With one agile leap, the dog landed in the middle of t
he mattress.

  Lucius didn’t say a single word, and still, worry etched heavy wrinkles on the dog’s black face. He peered at Lucius, waiting, and Lucius caved. “Good dog.”

  Relieved, Hero circled, dropped, and groaned out a long sigh of bone-melting pleasure.

  Lucius’s heart turned over. “Well, hell. I guess I can change the bedding after you leave with him.”

  Marci patted his arm. “You are such a good man, Sergeant Ryder.”

  Grinning, Lucius turned to her, and got the close-up view of her in that long T-shirt. Her eyes were shining, her mouth smiling, and she looked dead-on Bethany.

  At least, he thought so until he actually looked at Bethany and caught her sour, pinched appearance of disapproval.

  Just to push Bethany, he put his arm over Marci’s shoulders. “You really won’t mind taking him to the vet’s for me? I want him checked out, any shots he needs, maybe a flea dip—”

  Bethany started to say something, no doubt something mean and nasty, and Marci beat her to it. “Come to my place to sleep.”

  Tucking in his chin and quickly dropping his arm, Lucius stared at her. “Come again?”

  “You really do look exhausted. I’ll get my stuff and shower here so you can go to my bedroom and sleep.”

  “Ah, no.” He glanced at Bethany, but she only glared back. No help from her. “I wouldn’t feel right.” That is, he’d be randy as a goat and it was tough to sleep with a boner.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  Bethany was right—her sister was oblivious to the sexuality of her suggestion.

  But hell, Marci smelled enough like Bethany to put a spin on his libido. Lying on those scented sheets would put him right over the edge. “I’ll wait.”

  Marci rolled her eyes. “Bethany, take him for me.”

  Color flooded Bethany’s face, making her blue eyes brighter by contrast. That soft brown hair he’d touched a million times in his dreams whipped around her face as she shook her head. “No way.”

  “Bethany.” Marci put a hand on her hip.