Hating to Love You (Houston's Finest #1) Page 3

  Eight in the morning—seriously? Stupid internal alarm clock, it’s Sunday.

  Figuring she might as well get up and get her errands out of the way, she took a quick shower and pulled on dark-wash skinny jeans and a comfy off-the-shoulder sweater. Not even bothering with makeup or a hair dryer, she had her purse on her shoulder and was out the door twenty minutes later. She would just get her errands out of the way before spending the afternoon with pajamas and a Friends marathon. She had a trunk full of clothes to donate to Goodwill, and she still wanted to pick out a birthday present for Becky. One of their cult classic Saturdays would be spent clubbing in a couple months, and Sophie wanted to get her best friend’s present early. Fortunately, the Goodwill in Montrose was neighbor to a row of quirky clothing boutiques. A fun dress and a smutty book was always a safe bet with Becky.

  First order of business though was coffee. The pounding in her head had yet to subside. Wine was her drink of choice, but after the three bottles she and her friends had downed last night, she had a pounding headache that could only be cured by a bone-dry cappuccino. She pulled into the parking lot of her favorite Montrose coffee shop, just a few blocks away from the stores she planned to visit.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t appear to be the only person in dire need of coffee this morning. Sophie sighed and got into line, pulling up the Sunday edition of the Houston Reporter on her phone. Her feature on Texas Children’s Hospital had been published today, and seeing her byline never failed to bring a smile to her face. She had just finished reading her piece when a throat cleared loudly behind her. She turned around and was met with the sweat-dampened chest of one Rafe Pierce.

  He was clearly coming from a run or workout, and his white T-shirt was soaked through, showcasing spectacular pecs and a washboard stomach. Instead of tearing her gaze away from his chest, like she should’ve done, Sophie’s eyes traced the dips and curves of his muscles, working their way down to his abs.

  Of course he has a six-pack. Perfect.

  Before her eyes could explore any lower, Rafe cleared his throat again and crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to his defined biceps before she worked her gaze up to his face.

  His eyes sparkled and his lips were tipped up in a self-satisfied smile. “Like what you see, doll?”

  Ugh, does he have to be such a smug asshole?

  Letting her eyes wander once more, she intentionally focused below his waistband for a few moments before meeting his cool blue gaze once more.

  She shrugged and smiled. “Meh, I’ve seen better actually. You’re not all that…impressive.”

  To her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, sweetheart. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “Yet? Trust me, Mr. Pierce,” she said, once again emphasizing his last name. “You don’t have anything I want to see.”

  He leaned forward, his lips right next to her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, and her breasts suddenly felt heavy, her nipples hardening to points under her shirt. “Considering the eye-fucking you just gave me, I think I have plenty you want to see,” he said, voice going deep and husky with desire.

  She tried to come up with a response, but her mouth couldn’t seem to form words. A witty comeback stuck in her throat, and, instead, a low moan escaped her mouth when he leaned forward just a bit more, his nose nuzzling the tender spot under her ear. She glanced down once more and saw something quite impressive indeed stirring in his shorts.

  Before she could do something stupid, like actually kiss the asshole, the barista behind the counter called for the next person in line. Sophie stepped back quickly, putting space between herself and Rafe. He shook his head and stood up straight once more, reaching down to obviously situate himself, in public, while quirking an eyebrow at her.

  She huffed and turned to place her order, feeling Rafe move to stand behind her. When she laid eyes on Rafe, the barista perked right up.

  “Rafe! Hi!” she said excitedly. The poor girl couldn’t have been older than twenty-one and was practically vibrating with excitement. She completely ignored Sophie and turned to pour a cup of dark roast into a to-go mug for Rafe instead.

  “Hey, Tiffany,” he replied, glancing at Sophie before winking at the barista. The poor girl tittered, actually tittered, and handed him his coffee.

  “It’s on the house,” she breathed, cheeks pink and eyes practically glazed.

  Sick of waiting, Sophie sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Can you just get it over with and give him your number so I can get my damn coffee?”

  Tiffany looked startled to realize Sophie was actually there, and blushed. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. What can I get for you?”

  She gave the barista her coffee order and credit card before turning to Rafe. “Are you quite done now? You have your coffee, feel free to leave at anytime.”

  “Do I sense jealousy, doll?”

  “Oh absolutely,” she drawled. “I’ve always wanted to be a notch on someone’s bed post.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to save some room for you on mine.” He winked one final time before sauntering out of the coffee shop, leaving Sophie pissed off and way too aroused for her own good. Maybe she would pick up a new vibrator before she went home.

  Chapter Five

  Sophie spent all of Monday morning working on her “Hot Cop” piece. After the run-in at the coffee shop yesterday, she’d run her errands as quickly as possible before heading home with her new toy. As if it wasn’t bad enough that Rafe had popped into her fantasies last night, she now had to spend the whole day listening to his deep, sexy baritone while working on her feature.

  When she’d completed her work and edited it, she sent it to Karen and began to sort through the stories she had yet to copyedit. While she did write her own pieces, she enjoyed editing more and had stayed on as one of the newspaper’s senior copyeditors. She was working on her second story when she received a text from Karen telling her to come to her office.

  The moment she walked into her boss’s office, she knew she was in for it. Karen motioned for her to sit down, and steepled her hands under her chin, fixing Sophie with a stare that had made grown men spill their guts. Sophie did her best not to fidget, determined not to be the first person to talk.

  Finally, Karen sighed and leaned back. “What the hell is this?” she asked, throwing a printed copy of Sophie’s article on the desk between them. “I asked you for a feature, not a scathing article about how much of a womanizer the guy is.”

  “You should’ve seen the guy, Karen! He gave me nothing. He actually said that he joined the force for the ladies. How am I supposed to spin that into anything else?”

  Karen fixed her with a hard stare. “You and I both know that you can do better. I don’t want a scathing article about how much of a prick Raphael Pierce is. This guy is Houston’s hot hero. I want to know more. I want to know the real reason he became a cop.”

  “I just couldn’t get it out of him,” Sophie said, frustrated. She knew where this conversation was going and she was not looking forward to it.

  “I made a call to Officer Pierce’s captain today. I want a real story, Sophie. You’re going to be shadowing him for the next two weeks. I want a series of pieces about this guy. His captain says he’s one of the best they have; I want to know why. The women of this city are dying to know more about Raphael Pierce, and you’re going to give it to them.”

  Sophie groaned and opened her mouth to argue but was cut off. “I’m serious, Sophie. Finish all of your copyedits today and tomorrow. Wednesday you’re expected to be at the HPD station in Montrose at 5 p.m. sharp. Pierce and his partner are on the night shift.”

  Sophie mumbled her agreement and headed back to her desk to get to work. Today was going to be a long day. She had a mountain of stories to edit and one day to complete them. She needed more coffee.

  As she was leaving work late that night, she heard her phone ringing in her purse, the song “This is Me” from The
Greatest Showman blaring in the quiet of the parking garage. She was going to kill Kelsey for setting that as her ringtone. Kels had called her during a copyeditor meeting last week, and she was still getting hell for her ringtone choice. Digging through her purse, she snagged the phone and swiped to answer, tucking it against her ear while resuming her walk to the car.

  “Hey Kels!”

  “Sophie,” Kelsey said, her voice thick with tears. “James and I need to come stay with you for a little while. Is that okay?”

  “Of course, it is! What’s going on, though? Are you okay?”

  Kelsey started sobbing, the choked noise coming through the phone. “I left Kyle and he didn’t take it well. I just need to get out of here, please.”

  “Oh, Kelsey, you have a spare key. Go let yourself in, get James settled in the guest room, and I’ll pick up some wine on my way home. I love you and I’ll see you soon, okay?”

  Kelsey’s muffled “okay” made it through the phone before she hung up.

  Twenty minutes later, Sophie walked through the front door to her house. Dropping her purse and the bottles of wine on the table in the entry, she walked over to the couch and wrapped her best friend in a huge hug. Kelsey had stopped crying, but there was a box of tissues on the coffee table, and her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Kels, I knew you and Kyle were in marriage counseling, but what happened?”

  Kelsey released Sophie and leaned back on the couch cushions. “I think I was promised wine?”

  Sophie laughed and got up, quickly retrieving a bottle of wine from the entry and grabbing two glasses from her kitchen. After Kelsey had taken a fortifying sip of their favorite vintage of red, she sucked in a deep breath and started speaking.

  “Kyle and I were college sweethearts, you know? When I met him, I thought he was just so incredible, and for those first few years, everything was perfect. I mean the sex was off-the-charts hot, and he was so much fun to be around.”

  Sophie nodded. She’d been there when Kelsey had met Kyle at a frat party freshman year. They had been such a golden couple.

  “Then when I got pregnant with James during our senior year, everything changed. We got married so quickly, and everything I wanted for myself kind of fell away. Suddenly I was twenty-two years old and married with a kid. Kyle focused on work, and I stayed home to raise James, and we just grew into completely different people. I’ve tried to feel something, to fall back in love with him, but those people? Those two young kids who were so in love? They just don’t exist anymore. I will always love Kyle, but I couldn’t keep trying to convince myself that I was in love with him.”

  “Kelsey, I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way?”

  “I’ve been convincing myself for so long that it was my fault. That I was just romanticizing our early years, wanting some Hollywood romance that didn’t exist. But I miss working and having a career and a life of my own. I wouldn’t trade James for anything, I love him so much. I just need more out of my life.”

  Sophie nodded, refilling Kelsey’s wineglass and urging her to continue.

  “Anyway, I tried to tell Kyle that a few weeks ago. I asked to go back to work, even part-time. I found this great graphic design position that I knew I would be perfect for, but he shut me down. He said he wouldn’t even consider it and that I was being selfish. I’ve been working up the courage to ask for a divorce since that night. I got my ducks in a row, consulted a lawyer, and had papers drawn up. He was served them tonight, and he was so angry. I just had to get out of there, and you were the first person I thought to call.”

  “Well you came to the right place. Stay here as long as you need to.”

  “Thank you so much, Sophie. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Kelsey hugged Sophie again before downing her glass of wine. “Now please tell me you got more than one bottle? This is more of a four bottle kind of conversation.”

  “Oh ye of little faith, I bought five bottles. How dare you underestimate me.”

  Chapter Six

  Ramirez moaned as he bit into his Reuben sandwich. Loudly. The girls at the next table looked over and giggled, eyeing Rafe and Carlos with interest. Carlos looked up from his meal at the sound and, with a mouth full of sandwich, winked at them.

  Rafe threw a fry across the table, nailing his partner in the forehead. “Dude, are you fucking serious?”

  “What?” Carlos asked innocently, taking another large bite of his meal and reaching over to steal a fry from Rafe.

  “Do you really have to make love to your food in public? Keep moaning like that and people are going to think I’m giving you a foot job under the table.”

  Carlos lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “Why, Officer Pierce…” he said in a high voice. “Are you hitting on me?”

  Rafe rolled his eyes and smacked Carlos’s hand away from his plate as he tried to steal a fry. It had been a pretty quiet patrol night so far. Tuesdays weren’t particularly busy in Houston. He and Carlos had stopped at his favorite Jewish deli for a quick bite before heading back out.

  He raised his head to flag their waiter down when the front door opened and he spotted her. Sophie Klein was looking damn good tonight. Her blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun held together with a pencil. She had on a mint green cardigan over a silk polka-dot shirt. The shirt wasn’t tight but was just sheer enough for Rafe to glimpse the cup of her white bra. Black dress pants encased her long legs, hugging her ass perfectly. But the best part? She was wearing black fuck-me heels.

  Jesus, does the woman own any flats?

  Those heels gave him ideas. Made him want to take her home, pin her to the wall, and fuck her in nothing but those damn shoes. He felt his dick hardening in his polyester work pants. Not an ideal situation. His duty belt would make it impossible to hide. Tucking his dick into his waistband was not an option in this uniform.

  Before he could think twice about it, Rafe was out of his seat and making his way over to Sophie. He tore his eyes away from her ass as he approached the to-go stand and thought long and hard about baseball stats, willing his erection to disappear. By the time he was standing behind her, he was still rocking a semi, but it was manageable.

  He leaned over her shoulder to peer at the menu she was holding, and whispered in her ear, “I hear they have great sausage here.”

  Sophie started and turned around. Her big green eyes widened for a brief moment before narrowing on him in a glare he was starting to think she reserved just for him.

  “Stalk much?” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, drawing his gaze down.

  Bad move, sweetheart. Your tits look great when you do that.

  He returned his eyes to her face. She looked stressed today. There was tension in her shoulders, and her mascara was a bit smeared, like she’d been rubbing her eyes all day. He couldn’t explain it, but he had the sudden urge to make her smile.

  “Hey, you’re in my part of town, remember? First you come into my coffee shop, and now you’re interrupting my dinner break. Do I need to file a restraining order? Or are you just trying to goad me into using my cuffs on you?”

  Her nostrils flared and she took a step forward, poking him in the chest. “In. Your. Dreams,” she said, a poke emphasizing each word.

  “Oh, there is no doubt about it. I absolutely dream about you in handcuffs. Just last night, I dreamed you were handcuffed to that bedpost you seem to think has so many notches. You were naked and I was licking your—”

  She cut him off before he could finish, “You are such a perv.” Her words lacked any heat, her cheeks flushing and eyes clouding with desire. Her breasts were rising and falling with each breath and he couldn’t help himself. He stared. Hard. Shit, polyester had no give and his erection was back in full force. He winced as the zipper of his pants pressed against his throbbing dick.

  What is happening to me? I’m popping boners like a damn teenager. In fucking public. Could this get any worse?

  He lo
oked up when she started laughing. Her eyes lit with humor as she looked down at his pants. “That looks mighty uncomfortable for you, Mr. Pierce.”

  He growled. “You have no idea.” He needed to stop staring at her tits. He just couldn’t help himself, and her shirt was making things worse. How could a woman look so good in dress pants and a damn cardigan? The view he was getting of her lacy bra was giving him ideas, and a series of images flashed through his mind. He groaned and lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

  She laughed again and, not wanting to miss it, Rafe returned his gaze to her face.

  Son of a bitch.

  While he’d been thinking about baseball stats again, she’d pulled the pen from her hair and was now running her fingers through it. It fell in loose waves around her shoulders, making him wonder what it would look like spread across his pillow. Rafe was just about to ask her to button her cardigan, or at least put her damn hair back up, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Hey asshole, I paid the bill for dinner. Thanks for leaving me with that, by the way. Are you at least going to introduce me to your friend?”

  The only good thing about Carlos joining them was that the moment the man’s hand had landed on his shoulder, his dick deflated. He was going to have a serious case of blue balls later.

  Before he could tell Carlos to fuck off, Sophie stuck her hand out. “I’m Sophie Klein, the reporter who’ll be doing a piece on Officer Pierce.”

  “Ohhh, Officer Pretty Boy gets his own story in a newspaper? Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Rafe?”

  Sophie looked between the two of them in confusion. “Wait, you don’t know about the series of articles I’ll be writing? I’ll be tailing both of you for the next two weeks working on this.”

  That got Rafe’s attention quickly. “No, no, no, doll. You’ve already gotten your interview. You must be mistaken. Besides, how the hell do you plan to ride around in a cop car with the two of us when there is no back seat? That partition isn’t just for show, you know.”