When I saw the phone, I turned around with the intention of finding her and returning it, but now that I see who she’s with, I’m not so sure that’s the best way forward. Maybe there’s an opportunity here.

My department has been after Lance Tonin for four years, but nobody can get close enough to him to get a bead on how his operation is set up. I wonder if anyone has ever considered going through a back door. A beautiful blonde back door.

I feel a surge of guilt just thinking about using Tommi that way. What a shitheel thing to do. But then again, she’s dating a known felon. She has to know that puts her in the crosshairs, in the danger zone. In that case, all bets are off.

Like my brothers, I want to work my way up to detective, but for me, I want to go into deep cover. That takes time, though. Everybody’s gotta pay their dues. But the thing is, if I go to them with a way in on a guy like Tonin, they’d almost have to let me go under. I mean, at least it would be worth a shot to try.

Pocketing the phone, I turn around and walk back the way I came. I need to sleep on it. Maybe even talk to my captain tomorrow. But right now, this seems like a pretty damn big gift.

CHAPTER FIVE- TOMMI

It isn’t until Lance puts me in a limo at just after 2 AM that I realize my phone is missing. It would be a big deal anyway because Lance wouldn’t be able to reach me, which always sends him into orbit. But this, this is a much bigger deal because I know for a fact that I had it when I left my car and I’m 99% positive that I had it when I left the dress shop. That means there’s only one place it could be.

With Sig.

My heart races just thinking about Lance finding out. I don’t ever worry about him getting physically violent with me. I’ve been with hitters before and I wouldn’t put it past him to get rough with a woman, but he loves the way I look too much to risk ruining it. Besides he knows how to keep me in line, knows what I value more than anything. That is why he can’t find out about today.

Nervously, I tap my fingers on the seat beside me, even more anxious now than I was earlier tonight. When Bruce, the driver, drops me off at my condo, I rush inside and make a beeline for my brother’s room. I open the door as quietly as I can and tiptoe to the side of his bed to grab his phone, backing out as silently as I entered. I hurry into my room, closing the door and sending up a quick prayer that Sig has realized I left my phone and has it somewhere close by.

I dial my own number, listening to it ring, my anxiety rising with each one that passes unanswered. When my voicemail cuts on, I hang up and hit redial. “Please God, let him have it inside with him.” I repeat this process three more times, making my call as aggravating as humanly possible so that he’ll pick up just to get some peace and quiet. But still no answer.

“Don’t have turned off the ringer,” I whisper. “Don’t have turned off the ringer.”

On my sixth try, I’m about to hang up when I finally hear a deep, sleepy voice mutter, “Hello?”

Relief rockets through me, nearly buckling my knees. “Sig? Is that you?”

“Just Tommi,” he says, a smile in his voice that makes my stomach dip and swirl.

“I’m sorry to wake you. I just panicked when I realized I didn’t have my phone.”

“I was wondering how I could get it back to you.”

“I could come by and pick it up tomorrow,” I offer.

“After you get your car fixed?”

Oh, god, my car!

I suppress a growl of frustration. I’ll need it long before then. The towing place probably doesn’t open until 8 or 9 and then I’ll have to figure out how to get two tires over there. And put on as well. All this before 9 AM, which is when Lance asked me to be at his place tomorrow. If I’m not there, he’ll call. And if doesn’t get me, he’ll come to find me. And when he finds me and I tell him I don’t have my phone, he’ll offer to take me to my car to get my phone, which won’t be there. Because a gorgeous stranger has it.

Gah!

Out of habit, I bite back a curse, always the lady for Lance. I could let fly when he’s not around, but then I’d probably end up slipping up in front of him and he’d get mad. And when Lance gets mad he makes threats. And there’s only one real tool he can use to threaten me.

Round and round we go.

“I’ll need it before then,” I tell Sig, “but I can take a cab and meet you wherever you want, as early as possible. Please.”

There’s a long pause, during which I wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. “I have something to do first thing, but I can meet you after. Say eight o’clock at the Daily Grind?”

I’m familiar with the coffee shop. It’s not a place that Lance would ever frequent, so I feel comfortable agreeing to meet him there. “Sounds perfect. Thank you so much. I really hate to put you out.”

“Trust me, it’s no bother. I get to see you again.”

I can’t help smiling. “Goodnight, Sig.”

“Goodnight Just Tommi.”

“Wait!” I rush to catch him before he hangs up. “Sig?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t answer my phone again, okay?”

“You got it,” he says and the line goes dead.

After I sneak my brother’s phone back into his room, I begin the nightly ritual of changing into pajamas (clothing of my choosing), washing my face and brushing my teeth. It’s one of my favorite times of day. It always means that I’ve made it through another twenty-four hours in hell and that I’m one step closer to my goal.

When I climb into bed, my mind is as torn as the dreams that come, dreams that are sprinkled with chocolate eyes and a gorgeous grin, as well as the flaming ties that a devil has around my wrists.

CHAPTER SIX- SIG

I wear my uniform to work, but I bring along a bag of street clothes just in case the day goes the way I think it will go. Before my shift starts, I locker my shit and go straight to the captain’s office. When I knock, he issues a baritone, “Enter,” without even raising his head.

I might never get used to having a boss that looks like a heftier Denzel Washington and sounds like Barry White. He’s almost as tall as me and, if I were a lesser man, he might actually intimidate me.

I walk in and stand stiffly in front of his desk until he turns his shrewd gaze up to me. “What is it, Locke?”