Open Wounds Read Online Free PDF Page B

Amelia and Kellie. He crossed his arms against his chest.
    “Are we good?” he asked Kellie, determined to make it right before she left.
    “I’d make him suffer,” Darryl told her.
    She smiled and squeezed his arm gently. “Oh, he will, there’s no question about it. But it will be in the boxing ring.”
    Her gaze drifted over to Darryl as the man bent to secure his firearm in his desk drawer. He unabashedly cleared his throat and Kellie’s gaze darted to his. She blushed profusely when he grinned at her and waggled his eyebrows. He saw the gleam in her eye that she got whenever she prepared to take him down, and was thankful they weren’t alone. He would pay tomorrow.
    Catching sight of his partner, Dean Matthews, he gave out a loud wolf-whistle. Dean growled, or at least what Nick took for a growl since he couldn’t quite hear. It could’ve been a mumble but with the baring of teeth. He felt confident he’d hit the nail on the head. Dean’s chocolate brown eyes were bloodshot and his skin drawn, his honey blond hair roughly brushed but not styled.
    “Good afternoon, sunshine,” Nick said, and Dean replied with another low growl.
    He was dressed in his usual attire of slacks and a pale sunflower yellow shirt which clashed horribly with his blue tie. Nick couldn’t believe Dean still wore the pansy-arsed shirts he’d started wearing to defend his manhood. It had been years since the LAC had made fun of him, but typical to his style, he’d told them to go to hell and had continued to wear the pastel and feminine coloured shirts, daring anyone to say something. Nick had made the mistake of pointing it out once or twice, and was responsible for the constant ribbing in the first place.
    “You look like hell, my friend,” Nick observed.
    Dean sent him a glare. “Yeah, well, I was at a robbery until three o’clock this morning. What’s your excuse?” Dean challenged, his hackles up, ready to bite.
    Nick held up his hands in surrender, watching his partner remove his weapon holster and place it in his top desk drawer before practically collapsing into his chair. He knew when to back down.
    “Forget I said anything, man. Just trying to lighten the mood.”
    Dean finally appeared to notice the thick tension in the air. He reclined in his seat, stretching his long body out. His thick golden eyebrow quirked up when his gaze landed on Amelia, head down, fingers practically slamming on the keyboard as she typed. She hadn’t looked up and by the tight thin line of her lips, they knew from experience it wouldn’t be a fun day. Dean sent him an enquiring look. He shrugged in reply before turning his attention towards Kellie.
     
    ***
     
    Darryl knew when Dean’s foggy mind cleared. His eyes widened and his mouth parted, his jaw almost resting on his chest as he took in the beautiful woman standing before him. Dean gave her a slow stare that made Darryl clench his hands into fists. What the hell was wrong with him? Would his hackles go up every time a man dared look at Kellie? He’d almost ripped Nick’s arms off when he’d pulled her in for a hug. What the hell was going on between those two?
    He knew Nick didn’t get involved with women he worked with, but obvious affection existed between the two of them. An easy friendship and camaraderie that made him jealous. He rubbed a hand over his face and felt the beginnings of his five o’clock shadow.
    He had no reason to be jealous, but apparently he hadn’t got the memo yet. Nick was allowed to date whomever he wished, and so was Kellie. He glanced at the woman who stood in the middle of the Pig Pen — the name for the Detective Unit’s bullpen — oblivious to the male attention she received as she watched Amelia. He shivered at the memory of her soft, satiny female skin against his much rougher male texture when they’d shaken hands. She was beautiful, completely feminine, and that seemed to call to everything male in him.
    She may have worn three inch