Are you willing to take that risk with these men?”
Her eyes cleared. Her chin lifted. “Yes.”
He said nothing for a long beat, then told her, “Finish up. I’ll walk you down.”
He went out onto the porch with her, wearing the sleek guise of a powerful businessman. His glance touched on Babineau in his car before he turned to CeeCee. His hands brushed over the sleeves of her long raincoat, the gesture intimate and sheltering. His lips touched her brow and he asked with quiet intensity, “If the risk becomes unacceptable you will tell me, won’t you,
cher
?”
“Yes.” Soft, firm. Enough for the moment.
“Be careful on the streets.”
“Be careful in your meetings.”
They shared smiles.
He wanted to grab her up for a passionate display, almost more than he wanted to tip that car with the pretty boy detective inside over onto its roof.
“Max?”
As his brows raised in question, she whipped her arms around his neck and planted her mouth on his hard. Then she whispered against his lips, “I plan to take that rough ride tonight. Be ready.”
He smiled. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll pace myself today at work.”
He watched her jog down the steps to the car, while the cold beast inside weighed the risks he’d spoken of.
And found them unacceptable.
Five
T HEY RODE INTO the city in silence. Alain stewed in his pride and outrage, while Cee Cee sank into somber reflection.
He’d been partnered with Cee Cee for years. They’d had each other’s backs, covered each other’s asses, and held each other’s head over a toilet more than once. They’d agreed to disagree, and had gone toe-to-toe, on many an issue.
But never, ever, had they had doubts about the other’s ability to do the job—to be there, to hold the line, to take a bullet if necessary.
The minute she’d stood over a mangled corpse and covered up for Max Savoie, all that had changed. And now she was asking
them
to sweep up after him as well.
The job and her coworkers were no longer her first priority. And Alain resented the hell out of it.
It was Savoie, the spooky hit man—Jimmy Legere’s ferocious pit bull, who’d broken his chain to stand over the city’s throat with sharp bared teeth. Mobster, monster, he was exactly what Babineau protected decent folks from.
It had nothing to do with the snarky way Savoie had once turned to him to ask, “Can I call you Daddy?”
“Hey!” Cee Cee’s shout cut into his moody thoughts. “That’s our turn. Dovion’s first.”
Babineau hauled on the wheel, sending his economy import into a skidding turn.
Gripping the dash and the—
oh, shit
—handle above her door, Cee Cee scolded, “I don’t care what’s got your panties wedged up your ass, pull ’em out and pay attention.”
Something inside him snapped. “Oh, so you’re the only one who can corner on sidewalls, hanging on to gravity by the fingernails, Ms. Big Balls. If you think you’re going to neuter me so I’ll roll over and beg like your boyfriend, what you’ve got up
your
ass ain’t your silky drawers.”
She grabbed the wheel and yanked hard, forcing him to stand on the brakes or go up over the curb.
Babineau slammed out of the car to stalk across the street.
Putting up her hand as a stop sign, Cee Cee ran after him, tugging him to a halt on a triangular traffic island.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Babs?” she shouted, furious and alarmed. Her heart was beating like crazy as she wondered what possessed him to pull such a stunt, yet she was afraid to find out.
Her partner turned on her with bulletlike fury. “Don’t you mean what the hell have
you
let get into
you
? Why don’t you stop pretending to be a cop, and go whelp his puppies under a porch someplace.”
Her adrenaline-fueled punch connected squarely and had him seeing stars.
Shocked and furious, she snapped, “Whatever littlemacho hissy fit you have with Savoie, get the fuck over it. You don’t have any say over who I invite
Her eyes cleared. Her chin lifted. “Yes.”
He said nothing for a long beat, then told her, “Finish up. I’ll walk you down.”
He went out onto the porch with her, wearing the sleek guise of a powerful businessman. His glance touched on Babineau in his car before he turned to CeeCee. His hands brushed over the sleeves of her long raincoat, the gesture intimate and sheltering. His lips touched her brow and he asked with quiet intensity, “If the risk becomes unacceptable you will tell me, won’t you,
cher
?”
“Yes.” Soft, firm. Enough for the moment.
“Be careful on the streets.”
“Be careful in your meetings.”
They shared smiles.
He wanted to grab her up for a passionate display, almost more than he wanted to tip that car with the pretty boy detective inside over onto its roof.
“Max?”
As his brows raised in question, she whipped her arms around his neck and planted her mouth on his hard. Then she whispered against his lips, “I plan to take that rough ride tonight. Be ready.”
He smiled. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll pace myself today at work.”
He watched her jog down the steps to the car, while the cold beast inside weighed the risks he’d spoken of.
And found them unacceptable.
Five
T HEY RODE INTO the city in silence. Alain stewed in his pride and outrage, while Cee Cee sank into somber reflection.
He’d been partnered with Cee Cee for years. They’d had each other’s backs, covered each other’s asses, and held each other’s head over a toilet more than once. They’d agreed to disagree, and had gone toe-to-toe, on many an issue.
But never, ever, had they had doubts about the other’s ability to do the job—to be there, to hold the line, to take a bullet if necessary.
The minute she’d stood over a mangled corpse and covered up for Max Savoie, all that had changed. And now she was asking
them
to sweep up after him as well.
The job and her coworkers were no longer her first priority. And Alain resented the hell out of it.
It was Savoie, the spooky hit man—Jimmy Legere’s ferocious pit bull, who’d broken his chain to stand over the city’s throat with sharp bared teeth. Mobster, monster, he was exactly what Babineau protected decent folks from.
It had nothing to do with the snarky way Savoie had once turned to him to ask, “Can I call you Daddy?”
“Hey!” Cee Cee’s shout cut into his moody thoughts. “That’s our turn. Dovion’s first.”
Babineau hauled on the wheel, sending his economy import into a skidding turn.
Gripping the dash and the—
oh, shit
—handle above her door, Cee Cee scolded, “I don’t care what’s got your panties wedged up your ass, pull ’em out and pay attention.”
Something inside him snapped. “Oh, so you’re the only one who can corner on sidewalls, hanging on to gravity by the fingernails, Ms. Big Balls. If you think you’re going to neuter me so I’ll roll over and beg like your boyfriend, what you’ve got up
your
ass ain’t your silky drawers.”
She grabbed the wheel and yanked hard, forcing him to stand on the brakes or go up over the curb.
Babineau slammed out of the car to stalk across the street.
Putting up her hand as a stop sign, Cee Cee ran after him, tugging him to a halt on a triangular traffic island.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Babs?” she shouted, furious and alarmed. Her heart was beating like crazy as she wondered what possessed him to pull such a stunt, yet she was afraid to find out.
Her partner turned on her with bulletlike fury. “Don’t you mean what the hell have
you
let get into
you
? Why don’t you stop pretending to be a cop, and go whelp his puppies under a porch someplace.”
Her adrenaline-fueled punch connected squarely and had him seeing stars.
Shocked and furious, she snapped, “Whatever littlemacho hissy fit you have with Savoie, get the fuck over it. You don’t have any say over who I invite
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