Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (69 page)

“Can I get you both a glass of wine or something from the bar?” she asks politely.

“I’ll have a white wine spritzer, please,” I say a bit nervously.

“Do you have Corona?” Josh asks, looking up at the waitress who is smiling as she drinks him in.

“Yes, sir.”

“A bottle with lime, please,” he says, ignoring her fluttering eyelashes. She walks away, dejected and he sighs, looking back at the menu.

I close my menu and stare helplessly down at the wooden table. I don’t even know what I’ve done. “Josh, please tell me what I did or said that upset you,” I whisper, looking at him nervously. He closes his eyes and exhales for a moment, and then he finally looks at me.

“I’m not upset with you, Sam,” he says, looking me in the eye. “I’m just trying to remember that we grew up differently, that’s all.”

His words make no sense to me. Remember that we grew up differently? What? “I’m not sure what you mean,” I tell him honestly.

“It’s not important,” he mumbles. But I get the feeling that it is important. I stare at him mutely, and I know that I’m wearing a puzzled expression. It is so exhausting trying to figure him out sometimes. He cocks his head and looks at me, a slight frown marring his much too handsome face, and then he slowly glances around the dining room at the other patrons. “I’m just feeling a little underdressed, Sam,” he says by way of explanation.

I look around the restaurant and my brow furrows. “Why? This isn’t a jacket and tie kind of place.”

“It’s a figure of speech, baby,” he smirks sadly as the waitress comes back with our drinks.

“Ready to order?” she asks attentively.

He holds out his hand, indicating for me to order first, and I look away from him, still puzzled. “Yes. I’ll have the chicory and rabbit salad and the pasta with butter and sage.”

“And for you, sir?” she asks, looking at Josh with a dreamy expression. It makes me happy that he seems oblivious to the attention women pay him.

“I’ll have the same,” he responds, never taking his eyes off me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. He’s being cryptic again and it’s so frustrating.

The waitress takes our menus and walks away, and Josh is still eyeing me with an intense gaze. I want to ask him what he meant by the underdressed comment but, I decide to let it go. I simply don’t have the mental vigor right now to pursue it. I just want to have a good meal and unwind. I take a deep breath and sip my spritzer, watching him closely.

He leans forward and takes my hand in his, looking into my eyes, and it’s so intense that I have to sit my glass down and give him my full attention. He holds my gaze as his hand plays with mine, our fingers slowly lacing and interlocking. His blue eyes flash at me like lightening and the expression on his face makes me want to burst into flames. He is so hot. And, without warning, he gently pulls my hand to his lips and lightly kisses my knuckles. I melt. He is so romantic sometimes.

We spend most of our time waiting for our food in silence as we hold hands, playing with each other’s fingers, and staring into each other’s eyes. We simply sit quietly and get lost in each other, studying one another’s faces and smiling shyly, taking full advantage of the restaurant’s soft romantic lighting. And I’m happy that Josh’s temper seems to have receded into the background.

When our food arrives we begin to chat as we eat, and Josh asks me all sorts of questions about my dad. He wants to know more about the Daddy Dates we used to go on, and what my dad was like, and how he and my Uncle Kenny got along, and how he and my mother met. I get the feeling he’s trying to get to know him for some reason, and it makes me feel good. But I also sense that he’s maybe wondering what it was like to grow up with a loving, doting father, and that thought saddens me a little.

After our meal, we share a chocolate mousse for dessert. They bring us two spoons but, I don’t use mine at all, as Josh feeds me with his. It’s very sexy, and I can’t help but blush as I wonder what it would be like to smear this mousse all over him and slowly lick it off.
Talk about yummy!

When the waitress sets the bill down on our table, I think I see a nervous glint in Josh’s eyes as he pulls out his wallet. And suddenly it hits me like a ton of bricks – Josh’s earlier comments about feeling underdressed and he and I growing up differently. Even his slight hesitation when I suggested this restaurant. It all makes sense now and I feel silly for not figuring it out sooner. I don’t want him to worry about the money.

“I can get it,” I say innocently as I reach for the check.

His hand comes slamming quietly down over the bill, and when I look up at him he is eyeing me with barely contained fury.
Oh, shit.

“No, you won’t.” The quiet words are uttered through clenched teeth and his expression tells me that he’s pissed. I move my hand immediately, looking down at the table as I bite my bottom lip nervously. He pulls out his credit card and hands it to the waitress.

Once he signs for the bill we stand up to leave and Josh takes me by the hand and slowly leads me through the restaurant. And the instant we step outside, we are blinded by a bright flash of light.

Paparazzi!

“What the fuck?” Josh mumbles angrily, shielding his eyes from the sudden and unexpected visual attack. The flashes come in rapid-fire succession and I can hear the tell-tale shutter of the cameras, even if I can’t immediately see them. And I can feel my hand grip Joshua’s tightly. I have always hated being chased down by paparazzi. To me, it feels very similar to a physical assault. And having now been the victim of such an assault, I can say with authority that it’s pretty darn close.

“Miss Colby, how do you feel now that Timothy Echols is behind bars?”

“Miss Colby, are you and the detective dating?”

“Detective Pierce, do your superiors know about your relationship with Miss Colby? Will that compromise the Echols case at all?”

I squeeze Josh’s hand even tighter, but he lets go, wrapping his arm around me protectively as we ignore the photographer’s questions and hurry toward Josh’s car. He opens the door for me and then rushes to the driver’s side as the cameraman and the photographer from the
Seattle Social
close in. Without a word, he starts up the Charger and floors it, screeching out of the restaurant’s parking lot, onto the street, and into the night.

Pierced Ever After

Chapter One

Joshua

“What the fuck?” The flash comes out of nowhere and it takes me a second to realize what’s going on.
Are you fucking kidding me?
I scowl at the small contingent of media with cameras trained on our faces, crowding around us as soon as we exit the restaurant. There’s a photographer, flashing away, blinding us with each shot, and a guy with a huge monster of a video camera zooming towards us as a reporter for
Seattle Social
fires inane questions our way.

“Miss Colby, how do you feel now that Timothy Echols is behind bars?”

“Miss Colby, are you and the detective dating?”

“Detective Pierce, do your superiors know about your relationship with Miss Colby? Will that compromise the Echols case at all?”

We ignore all of the questions and I feel Samantha grip my hand as if she’s holding on for dear life. I let go of her hand and wrap my arm protectively around her waist and hurry her over to the Charger. Once we get into the car I start her up and pull away from the small throng as quickly as I can, tires squealing. And I can feel my anger boiling over, the fury coursing throughout my veins. First the whole check thing back at the restaurant and now this.

“Fucking leeches,” I mumble under my breath. “Where the hell do they come from?”

“They must have been tipped off by someone inside the restaurant that we were there together. This is all my fault,” Samantha says sadly. “I’m sorry, Josh.”

I say nothing and run my left hand through my hair a couple of times as I drive. And I snort softly and shake my head because I know that Samantha just doesn’t get it. This little incident was more than just annoying. It could fuck up everything.

“If news of our relationship gets out, any public defender worth his salt can use it to get Echols off on a technicality,” I tell her through clenched teeth, and even I can hear the quiet anger in my voice. “What the
fuck
was I thinking? We should never have been out in public!”

My voice sounds bitter and slightly accusatory, and I guess I mean for it to. She is the one who wanted to eat in that expensive place, after all. If she hadn’t wanted to go there, this never would have happened!

“You have a tendency to allow your anger to lead you sometimes. Don’t do that with her. Don’t automatically get angry at the situation … try to see things from her point of view.”

And why can’t I get my mother’s damned voice out of my head right now? I don’t want to be reasonable. I want to stay angry. This is Sam’s fault, not mine!
Sure about that, Pierce?

“No! No, no, he can’t get out,” Sam sounds frightened and on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, Josh; this is all my fault. We never should have gone there!”

Well, at least we’re in agreement on that. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly and I really want to punch the shit out of something right about now. Unable to fight the feeling, I haul off and pound my right fist up into the headliner of the roof of the Charger, as an angry growl escapes my throat.

“We can’t let this happen; there has to be something we can do, isn’t there?” Her voice is choked by panicked sobs and I instantly feel the crack in my armor of rage at the sound. Why do her tears disarm me?
Stop being a dick, Pierce; you care about this girl. You’re not angry at her, you’re angry at yourself.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I don’t know what that would be,” I tell her honestly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the ire out of my voice. But I think hard about her question. How do you stop the media from broadcasting your private business, spinning their yarns and interfering with criminal cases?
If
that’s even possible, it would take a hell of a lot more money and influence than I’ve got. And I know that I can kiss all that praise I got at the station yesterday goodbye because if this case gets fucked up, Marcos and Skinner will have my ass for breakfast.
Fuck!

Samantha’s phone starts to ring and she looks at the caller ID, wiping a stray tear. “It’s Lucas. I can’t deal with him right now,” she says softly, silencing her phone.

Lucas. I frown as a thought hits me, and I swallow nervously. Should I do this?
You want to keep Samantha safe?
“Give me the phone.” It’s a quiet command and Samantha gives me a confused look, but she does as she’s told, handing her cellphone over to me. I hold her phone in my hand and take another deep breath before I answer it. “Lucas? It’s Josh.”

“Hey, Josh.” He sounds slightly puzzled that I’m answering the phone and not his sister. “Is Sam around?”

“Yeah, she’s right here. But I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

I can hear the curiosity in his voice and I hesitate for a beat and swallow anxiously again. “This morning, you said that if I ever needed a favor I could come to you. Did you mean that?”

There’s a slight pause, and then, “I don’t say things I don’t mean. What’s going on?”

“I need your help,” I tell him honestly. “But it’s not for me, it’s for Sam.”

“I’m at the apartment,” he says without hesitation.

“We’ll be right there.” I hang up and hand Sam back her phone, and we speed off toward her brother’s place.

*****

Twenty minutes later we are seated on one of the black leather couches in Lucas Colby’s opulent living room, and Samantha and I are each nursing a glass of brandy as Lucas speaks on the phone with his lawyer. When we arrived and I explained what happened as we left the restaurant, he understood the implications right away. He pulled out his phone and dialed his attorney on the spot, and for the last ten minutes I’ve listened intently as he’s instructed his attorney to inform
Seattle Social
and her parent company that if they run any of the photos or film footage taken tonight at the restaurant, or imply in any way that Samantha and I are seeing each other romantically – or do anything else to negatively impact the outcome of the Echols case – they’ll be sued for damages.

“I don’t give a shit if we have a legal ground to stand on or not,” he says irritably. “At least we could tie them up in litigation for a good long while, and I’m betting they don’t have the resources for that. I will own the
Seattle Social
before this is done!”

There is a pause as he listens to whomever is on the other line, and I can tell that Lucas Colby is not only a fierce businessman, but also very used to getting what he wants. I don’t think I’d want to piss him off. I may be physically imposing and have the power that comes with a badge, but Lucas has a type of power I will probably never know. The thought is humbling.

“Well, get on it now. I want this taken care of yesterday. If any of that footage gets online or hits the airwaves, there will be hell to pay!”

He hangs up and turns back to us and I can’t help but feel guilty. I can’t believe I’ve let this happen. And I think about Lee saying that I was acting love-struck and reckless at The Slammer. Damned if he didn’t call that right, ’cause I sure as hell acted like a reckless fucking idiot tonight.

“I’m sorry, Lucas,” Sam says sadly as he sits down in a chair across from us. “It was all my fault that we ended up at the restaurant in the first place. I’m so stupid!”

Feeling the frown cross my face, I look over at her. “It’s not your fault, Sam,” I say quietly, taking her hand. All my earlier misplaced anger forgotten. “It’s mine.”

“But how can you say that? I’m the one who wanted to go to there,” she wails. “I could tell you didn’t want to.”

“And I’m the one who should have known better,” I say definitively. “But I just … wanted to make you happy. I wasn’t thinking about the media, or this case … or my job for that matter. And I should have been. I fucked up tonight, not you. If Echols walks, it’s all on me, baby. It’s not your fault.”