LifeoftheParty Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking maybe we should we go to
Serious Joe first? I could buy you a latte, maybe some scones? We could
reminisce over old times.”
    Gina laughed harshly. “Maybe we should. Then maybe after you
could get on with your life.”
    Doug’s face went scarlet, his lips stretching into a thin,
tremulous line, and for a scant second Gina thought he would hit her. “Oh come
on, sweetheart, you could do a hell of a lot better than that.”
    Didn’t she know it. Because hadn’t she been angsting over
this moment for days? Weeks? Maybe even for the last two years? Ever since that
night in his hospital room. How it nearly killed both of them when she walked
out the door. But thinking of that wouldn’t help her now.
    She met his gaze. “Look, outside of the obvious, I know you
don’t give a damn about me, but I had this crazy idea I could still trust you
no matter what’s happened between us. Because underneath I always figured you
for a good cop who still gave a damn about finding the bad guys. But I guess I
was wrong.”
    When his eyes narrowed Gina knew he was weighing the pros
and cons, assessing whether she was worth the risk. After a few moments he slid
his hands into his pockets. “Then go ahead. Start from the top. I’m listening.”
    She relaxed, if only marginally. Because for the next few
minutes she fully intended to believe she was only the congressional aide and
Doug was nothing more than a local cop. And if she played it straight, if she
hit all the right notes, she might believe it long enough to walk out of the
room unscathed. Then she looked at him.
    Who was she kidding.
    “Excuse me a minute,” she said, escaping to the bedroom.
    Gina closed the door and threw off her robe and nightgown.
Half-naked was no way to play it with Doug. Yet as she slid on underwear, jeans
and a sweater, she knew she could be encased in concrete and if Doug wanted at
her, he’d find a way to get in. In fact, it was exactly what she was counting
on. She shivered, feeling his heat from the other room. She ran to scrub her
teeth and face and drag a brush through her hair, catching herself in the
bathroom mirror. Her sweater just covered his marks at the swell of her
breasts, her hair the one he’d left on her neck. She closed her eyes, her heart
rate kicking up at the thought of him. Can’t do that now , she told
herself. I have to keep a clear head, if only for Jack’s sake. She dug
into her purse, pulling out a wad of papers and, grabbing her BlackBerry,
returned to the living room.
    He stood at the mantel of the little fireplace, scrolling
through his phone. Good God, Gina thought, he was so big . Maybe not
inordinately, six foot two or three perhaps. But next to her, who just came to
his shoulders in bare feet, his heady mix of height and musculature, his voice
a growl of raw, roughened silk, recalling the timbre of it in her ear and how
it made her pulse race, and now with him so… She shivered again. Jesus, he
could crush her with one hand. He looked over, shooting her a quick
up-and-down.
    “So you work for Jack Falco,” he said impassively.
    Inwardly, she sighed. She knew him well enough to know the
fact of it chafed at him, but she was also aware he’d hardly own up to it.
“Yes. I met him in D.C. when I was lobbying for his bill.”
    “The DNA Identification Clearance Act.”
    That surprised her. “You know it?” she asked, sliding to the
sofa.
    “Halchak told me.”
    “Ah.” She watched him cross to the chair and sit down. So it
was a good move approaching his captain first. At this stage he’d certainly
want confirmation on anything she’d tell him. “I’d been heading the prison
reform group Stop the Loop.”
    “The anti-recidivism project.”
    “Yes.” Again, she was surprised. But how silly. There was a
huge federal prison in Camden. “I guess I must have impressed him, because when
the bill passed he asked me to come work for him.”
    “As his chief of staff.”
    He had done his homework.