Elusive Relations (Valor and Doyle Mysteries, #2)

by Nicky James

Living one day at a time means not worrying about what’s ahead or behind. It’s about doing the best I can in the moment.”

Who’s your heroin, Aslan? You must have gotten a taste of something damn good recently and now nothing measures up.”

Jack Pilkey, a.k.a. Quaid Valor’s Jackhole cheating ex-boyfriend—at least I hoped he was still an ex. For Quaid’s sake.

The moment, whatever it had been, shattered. Quaid’s face hardened. The notorious stitch appeared between his brows, and his back stiffened. I didn’t know why I did it, but I reached out and smoothed the crease with a thumb. “Stop frowning. Your face is going to get stuck like

Yoko Ono once said, “A dream you dream alone is only a dream. A dream you dream together is reality.” Jack had never shared my vision of family and future, of growing old together and having children. Jack didn’t want to grow up. It was no wonder I’d been abandoned in the rain.

“Are you suggesting we go to a gay nightclub together, Quaid Valor?” “Don’t make it into something it’s not. It’s for work.” “Un-huh.” “For. Work,” I said again, the corner of my lips twitching. Aslan’s smile grew, and he pointed a finger at my face. “Careful, Valor. Don’t let anyone see that you enjoy my company.” “Hardly.” “I think you kind of like me.” “I think you’re delusional.” Aslan beamed. “I love it when you talk dirty. Let’s go.”

I squeaked and jolted forward when Aslan slapped my ass, grabbing a handful of the left cheek and squeezing as he leaned in and whispered, “Get your smug, sexy little ass over to the bar right now. We have work to do, and I don’t like your attitude.” “Um… inappropriate touching.” “Uh-huh. I’ll give you inappropriate touching, Quaid Valor. Don’t tempt me.”

I wasn’t familiar with the rules that dictated how hookups ended. Was I supposed to leave right away? Did I say thank you?

“Definitely. Once is fun. Twice is a rodeo. Three times is a commitment, and we both know that ain’t happening.”

“Stop being all hot and miserable. It’s a dangerous mix. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to resist you. You know what that face does to me.”

“This is my angry-at-you face.” “Oh yeah, then why does it give me a hard-on?”

Do you know how many people will be looking at that tiny, taut little body of yours and wondering just how many beers it might take to take your anal V-card?”

The stars were not aligning. Fate was not knocking at my door. This was Aslan Doyle, not my future husband.

Aslan leaned over the console. In one fluid movement, his hand found its way to my nape and drew me in for a kiss, stopping the string of excuses. It was tender and painfully sweet. It didn’t scream I want to lay you out and fuck you senseless. Instead, it whispered I want to savor you, memorize you, and imprint your lips and taste onto my soul.

“Am I a bad choice?” “The worst.” “But it feels so damn good, doesn’t it?” With those words, he pushed my pants to the floor and dropped to his knees.

“You are so incredible,” he whispered against my neck. “So gorgeous. So addictive.”

I would never tell him, but I was kind of sad he hadn’t added a second notch to my bedpost.

We shouldn’t click. We were oil and vinegar. The sun and moon. Night and day. But somehow, like all those things on opposite sides of the spectrum, we complimented each other.

“What if… what if I said I wanted more?”

For the first time in forever, I don’t want to walk away after just a handful of fun nights. I don’t want it to be just about the sex. I want to take you to dinner. I want to share ice cream and conversation with you on the couch in the middle of the night.”

“I think you like it when I get cocky,” he said. “I do, but we might have different definitions of cocky.” “Quaid Valor, are you being facetious?” “Never.”

It was too soon to hope for bigger things, and I had a tendency to envision the future long before I should, but I liked to imagine this could become something special. Something more. Something lasting.