Return to You

"You can look
at it that way."
    He wasn't sure how he felt about that. "What
about Lurch?"
    She looked confused for a moment before she
rolled her eyes. "His name is Rick, and what about him?"
    "Well, if my girlfriend was having
sex with another man, I'd be a little pissed."
    "Rick isn't like that."
    Michael stared at her incredulously. "He's
gay then?"
    Olivia burst out laughing. When she didn't
show any sign of letting up, he shook her. "What's so funny? He's
got to be gay if he doesn't care if another guy's making on his
woman."
    That sent Olivia into another gale of
laughter. Michael could feel tears of mirth slide onto his
skin.
    She finally quieted down to the occasional
chuckle and hiccup. She smoothed back his hair. He tried to resist
the placating gesture but he melted at her touch all the same.
    "While you're in town, I'll only be with
you," she promised.
    That should have made him feel better, but
it didn't. In fact, it only made him feel worse. He didn't want any
other man touching Olivia. Ever. Unrealistic but he couldn't help
feeling that way.
    And he didn't want to analyze why that
was.
    Her hand, soothing one moment, suddenly
gripped a lock of hair and pulled. Hard. "The same goes for you.
I'll run you down with my car if you so much as glance at another
woman."
    Michael pulled her on top of him and kissed
her. His part of the deal wasn't going to be a problem. Olivia was
the only woman who'd turned him on in longer than he cared to
admit.
    He didn't think she'd be able to keep her
part though. He trusted Olivia—it was Lurch he couldn't count
on.
    Contrary to what Olivia believed, Lurch
wasn't going to understand. In his shoes, Michael knew he'd do
whatever it took to keep Olivia to himself. Lurch would be no
different.
    Michael gripped her tighter against him. He
wasn't ready to let her go—not yet. Lurch may fight him for her,
but he had a surprise coming. Michael intended on being the victor.
At least for the short-term.
     
     

Chapter Nineteen
     
     
    Parker slid into the booth. "What do you
have for me?"
    Clancy cocked a brow and grinned. "Good
evening to you too. I've been doing great, thanks."
    Controlling the unaccustomed urge to snarl
at the man, Parker motioned to the waitress. He needed scotch.
Bad.
    "Someone sure got your panties in a twist
this evening," Clancy said, sipping his drink.
    He had no interest in talking about anyone's
panties. He looked around the bar. Where was the damn waitress?
"What do you have for me?"
    Clancy only grinned harder. "Want me to wait
until you get your drink? You look like you could use it."
    An understatement. He didn't need a drink—he
needed the whole bottle. It was Elaine's fault.
    "What can I getcha, honey?" the peroxided
waitress asked.
    "Your best scotch. Neat."
    She nodded and turned an insipid smile to
Clancy. "Getcha anything else, sugar?"
    Clancy shook his head. "I'm fine, Molly,
thanks."
    Her sneakered feet squeaked on the sticky
floor as she hurried to the bar to get his drink.
    He never liked women in tennis shoes. Lily
wore them despite his complaints, daring him to run after an
energetic little girl in three-inch heels. Elaine always wore
sensible shoes, though they were obviously of high quality.
    He scowled. What the hell did he care what
kind of shoes Elaine wore?
    Where was his drink?
    He looked up and noticed Clancy watching him
with amusement he didn't bother to veil. "Your choice of
establishment is—colorful."
    "My clients expect to meet me someplace
seedy. They're disappointed if we don't. They feel they didn't get
the full experience of hiring a private eye. The Lockdown
fits."
    "Here ya go, honey." The waitress set a
napkin on the table before placing his drink in front of him.
    He picked it up and took a swig. Not as good
as he was used to but at the moment he'd be willing to swig hooch
from a jug out back.
    He realized Clancy was observing him and
cursed internally. He was off his stride. Damn Elaine.
    What had come over her? For seven years
she'd been a competent, perfectly subservient assistant and
suddenly she was barging into the bathroom making demands on
him.
    He took another mouthful. He needed to get
himself under control and back to the matter at hand. "What do you
have for me?"
    "Can I be frank?"
    "That's what I'm paying you for."
    "I thought this was going to be a wild goose
chase, but I think you're right."
    Parker kept his face impassive, but he
wondered what the hell Clancy was talking about. "Was