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  This day so needed to be over. Unfortunately, Officer Boyd looked like he was gearing up for a world-class lecture. Perfect. Exactly what she needed after the craptastic end to her almost-successful stakeout. He droned on and on about the rights and wrongs of spying and trespassing to the point that even he looked bored with it.

  Gina was so done. He’d said she must go inside. And she had. But he hadn’t said she had to stay there. She turned on her heel in the middle of a quote of some statute or law and marched through Mrs. Bogetti’s living room to the front door. Gina had her hand on the knob when he stopped her.

  “We’re not quite through, Miss…?”

  “Silvano,” Mrs. Bogetti supplied helpfully. “Gina Silvano.”

  “I’m cutting you off, Mrs. B. No more free cupcakes,” Gina said, scowling at her neighbor.

  The old woman just smiled at her and went to get the officers a glass of iced tea.

  Gina turned around to grasp the doorknob again, but stopped in her tracks when Officer Boyd’s finger touched the back of her neck.

  “Did that hurt?” he asked, lightly running his finger over the tattoo on the sensitive skin beneath her hairline.

  She turned back around, breaking the contact, though a large part of her wanted to lean back into his touch, not move away from it. What the hell? She really needed to get a grip.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Why do it then?”

  She frowned at him, trying to figure out his game. Why in the world did he care? “I liked the sentiment.”

  “‘Always’? With a lightning bolt?” he asked with a small grin.

  Her lips stretched into an answering smile before she could stop herself. “I like Harry Potter, too. Sue me.”

  He laughed. “Seems like ‘I solemnly swear I’m up to no good’ would be more appropriate for you.”

  She turned and blinked innocently at him. “Who says I don’t have that on some other part of my body?”

  His eyes widened. There. She’d let him chew on that thought for a while. Served him right.

  Officer Boyd cleared his throat, all business again. “Miss Silvano, I meant what I said. If your truck gets vandalized again, call us. Don’t try to find or confront the culprits yourself. It could be dangerous.”

  “I know who the culprit is. I just can’t prove it yet. I can handle Tony. Are we done?”

  The officer looked her over, his forehead creasing in a frown. “I think it’s best if I escort you home. Make sure you don’t get in any more trouble on the way.”

  “Are you going to cuff me, too?” She held up her wrists, making sure her tone was as sarcastically sweet as she could make it.

  His gaze burned into hers, heating up until she could feel an answering warmth spreading through her. He leaned closer so only she could hear. “Only if you want me to.”

  Chapter Two

  Rick didn’t know what had possessed him to say that. It was beyond dumb. The woman—Miss Silvano—Gina—could probably have his badge for a remark like that. Good cops had been fired for less. And she definitely seemed like she had an issue with cops. Or maybe it was authority figures, in general. Either way, he should watch what he said around her.

  Easier said than done, though. She scrambled his wits. The whole time he’d been lecturing her, all he could think of was how beyond gorgeous the woman was. It had been far too long since anyone had piqued his interest. He’d been chewed out by his fair share of perps—on a daily basis, really—but he’d never enjoyed it before. With fire flashing in those chocolate eyes and her cheeks more full of color than the crazy streaks of blues, purples, and greens peeking from under the darker top layer of her choppy, shoulder-length hair, he’d been more than tempted to rile her up just to keep the fight going.

  But the lovely, and slightly frightening, Miss Silvano was so not his type. He liked the girl-next-door as a rule. Sweater sets and pearls for church on Sunday, jeans and T-shirts for playing ball in the park, maybe a cute sundress for the PBA picnic. Someone who would fit in the quintessential home with the white picket fence that he wanted in his future. He liked his life neat and tidy, reliable, predictable.

  Gina was the antithesis to his perfect woman. She was chaos. Boisterous, rule-breaking, authority-hating, crazy-streaked-hair chaos. Everything about her confused him. How could she be the opposite of everything he’d always liked, yet still set fire to his blood with a mere look?

  “Like Pac-Man?” he asked, nodding at the set of earrings in her upper cartilage. Pac-Man and a ghost separated by three studs. Like someone had taken a screenshot of the game and placed it in her ear.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  He chuckled. He had to admit, they were cool. Somehow all the piercings, even the tiny diamond in her nose, worked for her. He’d never been a fan of that kind of thing. But on her, they were subtle. Classy, even.

  Still, she was so far away from his usual type it wasn’t even in the same hemisphere. So why couldn’t he stop staring at her? Why did his dick try to jump from his pants when her eyes roamed over him until there was a little hitch in her breath and a blush on her cheeks? Why did he have the urge to cuff her, press her up against the wall, and search every inch of her? Thoroughly and repeatedly. Or better yet, keep her against that wall and kiss her senseless so he could feel what it was like to have that stud in her tongue tangled up with his own. Or running over other parts of his anatomy that were screaming for attention.

  And why the hell did he tell her he needed to escort her home?

  His partner, Joe, was obviously wondering the same thing. Thankfully, they’d been partners long enough that Joe wouldn’t question him in front of a suspect. Or…whatever Gina was. But Rick knew he’d be getting an earful the second she was out of their sight.

  He and Joe escorted her out of Mrs. Bogetti’s apartment and toward the elevator. Gina looked over at Joe’s slightly overinflated midsection and smiled.

  “I’d like to take the stairs.”

  Joe’s eyes narrowed, and Rick had to clear his throat to keep from chuckling. Joe used the stairs only in dire emergencies and sometimes not even then. Rick had been on his ass for years to get in shape. Joe’s usual response was to flip him off and reach for the doughnuts.

  The elevator doors dinged and opened, and Rick grasped Gina’s elbow to steer her in. “Let’s stick to the elevator today.”

  She shrugged and sauntered inside. They didn’t speak on the way down. Rick stood slightly behind her, close enough he could smell her subtle perfume. Actually, he wasn’t all that sure the vanilla scent that wafted from her was perfume. She drove a cupcake truck for a living. Maybe it was from being around the sweets all day. Either way, it made it even more difficult for him to keep his distance. What he really wanted to do was bury his nose in her hair and sniff her like the department dogs preparing for a drug search.

  Joe glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, and Rick sighed. Oh yeah, he was so getting shit for this mess.

  The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival at ground level. Gina was through the doors before they’d fully opened. But he stuck to her like glue, despite her obvious dismay. She marched to their squad car and turned around to glare at him.

  “Is Mrs. B pressing charges?”

  Rick put on his best cop face and stared her down. She didn’t flinch. “No, she’s not. You’re lucky she’s such a sweet old lady, or you’d be in a world of trouble right now.”

  She snorted. “Don’t let that woman fool you. She’s tough as nails. But, since she’s not pressing charges, and I technically didn’t do anything wrong, then there’s no need for you to drive me home. I’d hate to waste the taxpayers’ money and your valuable time, so I’ll be on my way.”

  Rick moved to intercept her and took her elbow again. He steered her to the car and opened the back door. “She might not be pressing charges, but we could take you down to the station, anyway.”

  “For what?” Gina said, dropping the sweet act, folding her ar
ms, and glaring at him.

  “Oh, I’m sure we could cook up something that would stick. You’re not leaving my sight until you are home where you belong.”

  She grimaced and slid into the backseat with a huff. “You know what I think?” she said, sticking her head back out before he could shut the door.

  “No. What?”

  “I think you think I’m hot.” She let her gaze slowly roam up his body until she met his eyes. She bit her lip. Rick gripped the door, welcoming the bite of steel against his hand. She leaned out farther.

  “I think you want to know where I live and instead of asking me out or something—not that I’d say yes, of course, but theoretically—this is your pathetic way of finding out.”

  She gave him a smug smile and sat back against the seat.

  “Dream on, lady. Psycho stalker chicks aren’t really my type,” Rick said, feeling slightly bad for the slam. But she’d hit way too close to home on that one.

  His insult didn’t even faze her. “Then why haven’t you stopped staring at me since the second we met?”

  “I’m trying to make sure you don’t harass anyone else tonight.”

  “Yeah, right. Whatever. And I’m not a psycho.”

  Rick nodded. “You’re right. I apologize. That was uncalled for.”

  She glanced up at him in surprise. “Thanks,” she said, grudgingly.

  “You are a stalker chick, though, hence my insistence on giving you a ride home.”

  He shut the door on her outraged face before she could say anything else.

  Joe chuckled.

  “What?” Rick said, frowning at him.

  “Nothin’. I think she’s right, that’s all. You’ve got it bad for her and just want to find out where she lives.”

  Yeah, he knew there was no way Joe would miss that. That didn’t mean Rick had to admit anything, though.

  “I’m trying to keep the crazy lady from scaring all the neighbors. That’s all.”

  “Uh-huh,” Joe said. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get your princess home before she stares someone to death.”

  “Ha, ha,” Rick said, climbing into the passenger side and trying to ignore Joe’s wheezing laugh. He really needed to get his partner’s ass on a treadmill.

  Joe started the car up and sat, waiting. Rick turned around so he could see Gina in the back.

  “Address?”

  She sat back and folded her arms.

  “Look, you can either tell me your address so we can take you home, or I can ask for your ID and issue you a citation for loitering. The citation will cost a lot more. What’s it going to be?”

  She blew out an irritated gust of air and told him, “It’s like four blocks from here. This is ridiculous.”

  “So is sitting on a fire escape outside some old lady’s window so you can spy on your ex boyfriend.”

  “That’s not what I was—”

  Rick held up his hand. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Fine.” She rattled off the address as fast as she could and sat back, pouting. Then she bent over, riffling around through something.

  “What are you doing?” Rick asked, leaning over so he could see.

  “Nothing.” She zipped up her backpack and sat back again. “Just looking through my bag.”

  She smiled sweetly at him, and all of Rick’s red flags went up. But as far as he could tell, she wasn’t doing anything. Other than a box of equipment on the floorboards, there was nothing she could get into and certainly nothing she could use as a weapon. He’d have to remember to get that box out of there once they got back to the station. Joe was supposed to have done it before they left.

  It took all of two minutes to pull up in front of her building. Rick got out and opened Gina’s door. She stormed past him and stomped up the stairs.

  “Stay out of trouble,” he called after her.

  Her only response was to flip him off and slam the door.

  Rick got back into the car, laughing.

  “What the hell was all that?” Joe asked.

  “What?”

  “What do you mean, what?”

  Rick looked out the window. “Shift’s over. Let’s get back to the station so we can get home.”

  Joe shook his head and pulled back onto the street. “You have got to get yourself a life, man. When crazy stalker chicks start looking good, it’s time to make some changes.”

  “She’s not a crazy stalker chick. She was only trying to protect her property. Going about it the wrong way, maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  Rick shrugged. “She had a point. We probably wouldn’t have been in that big a hurry to come check out a truck that might or might not have been broken into. We’d have gotten to it, but maybe not before it happened again. Can’t blame her for wanting to keep an eye on things.”

  “Then why did you tell her to call us instead of handling it by herself?”

  “Because that’s the right thing to do. If she needs help or there’s criminal activity going on, she needs to alert the police. Not try to handle it herself.”

  “So…you don’t blame her for trying to handle it herself but you don’t agree with her doing it.”

  Rick frowned. “I realize I’m kind of contradicting myself.”

  “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure you got that.”

  Rick scowled at him, and Joe laughed. He kept up the ribbing all the way to the station, which thankfully wasn’t too far. Rick got out of the car as soon as they parked, but Joe stopped him.

  “Grab that box, will ya?”

  Rick got it from the backseat. “What is all this stuff, anyway?”

  “Some surveillance gear. Friedman confiscated it from the car thieves last week and has been carting it around. Needs to get it signed into the evidence locker, so I finally told him I’d do it.”

  “Surveillance gear?” Rick asked with a sinking feeling in his gut. “What all was in here?”

  Joe walked around the car, grabbed a list from inside the box, and read off the items. Rick rummaged through everything, sighing when Joe got to the end of the list. Rick slammed the box down on the trunk.

  “What?” Joe asked.

  “The night-vision binoculars are missing.”

  Joe’s eyes widened, and then his laughter rang out. Rick turned on his heel and headed into the station.

  “Where are you going?” Joe called out.

  “I’m changing, and then I’m going to go get the equipment back.”

  “Uh-huh. You want some help with that?”

  Rick glared at him.

  “Never mind.”

  Rick ignored him and marched into the station. He couldn’t believe she’d stolen from a cop. The woman had balls.

  And he was going to set her straight. Whether she liked it or not.

  Chapter Three

  Rick pounded on the door for the fourth time before he finally gave up. He jogged down the four flights of stairs to the ground floor. Where the hell was she? He sat in his car for a second before he realized he knew exactly where she was. The woman was going to be the death of him, and he’d only known her a few hours.

  He steered his car back toward the Street Treats bakery. When he arrived, he made sure to park around the corner where she wouldn’t spot him. He didn’t want her taking off on him. Again. Especially with stolen—or re-stolen? Double-stolen?—equipment in that backpack of hers.

  He scoped out the fire escape as he drew closer to the building. Not a creature was stirring. Then his eye was caught by a light glinting off a lens on the roof. That had to be her. Rick swung up onto the fire escape and climbed to the roof. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but you can only be so quiet climbing up a metal ladder. When he reached the top he saw Gina peering over the edge with the night scope binoculars. He sneaked up behind her. She wasn’t a very good spy, considering he was able to get all the way up to her and she still didn’t notice him.

  He slapped his hand over her mouth, wrapped her in a bear hug, and swung her around awa
y from the roof’s edge. She kicked him in the shin, and he grunted in pain.

  “It’s me,” he said in her ear. “Officer Boyd. Relax, would you?”

  She stopped squirming, and Rick relaxed his hold a bit. Big mistake. Before he realized what she was doing, she hauled back and elbowed him right in the gut. He let go of her with a grunt.

  “What the hell?” he said, holding his stomach.

  “What the hell to you?” she said, rounding on him with a fury that was magnificent to behold. “I’m minding my own business and you feel it necessary to scare the shit out of me? I thought you were some murderer getting ready to haul me off!”

  “Well, I might have been! What are you doing up here? No, never mind. I know exactly what you’re doing up here.”

  He snatched the binoculars from around her neck and held them up. “This is theft, Miss Silvano. From a cop. What the hell were you thinking?”

  She actually had the grace to look ashamed. A little. For about half a second. Then that stubborn little chin of hers jutted into the air. “I was thinking I could use some better equipment, and since the Hoboken police force wasn’t going to help me find out who is vandalizing my truck, the least they could do was donate some equipment to the cause.”

  His eyes narrowed and she shrugged. “I was going to give it back.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. I’ll let my captain know that when he suspends my ass for losing $3,000 worth of stolen equipment that should be in the evidence locker.”

  She looked at the binoculars again and whistled. “These things are worth $3,000? Nice.”

  Rick sighed. A headache was beginning to form behind his temples. This woman was going to give him a stroke. “Stealing from the police department aside…”