Page 24 of Seizing Mack
Chapter Eleven
~ Nick ~
It didn’t take longfor Nick to settle into a comfortable routine. He had yet to get in touch with Liz, but otherwise, things were coming along nicely. He’d moved into the Cape Cod and was appreciating the peace, quiet, and space. He took joy in the simple pleasures of mowing the lawn and trimming the bushes, things he hadn’t been able to do while living in an apartment or motel.
The job was going well, too. Nick had a lot of respect for Sam Brown and liked (most of) the people he worked with. Unlike Emerson, they didn’t seem to harbor any underlying animosity. A few of the uniforms cast hairy eyeballs his way occasionally, but since he’d also seem those same cops cozying up to Emerson, it wasn’t unexpected.
He’d already closed one of the four cases he’d been assigned and he’d set up a meeting with the local school board about ramping up their drug and alcohol awareness and resistance program in the fall. He spent a fair share of his limited free time atSeize, working out, building a rapport with the kids... and seeking out the elusive and enigmatic woman who’d unknowingly gotten under his skin.
“Come on, Mack. Admit it. I won.” Nick grinned down at her, holding the towel high in the air, just out of her reach. It wasn’t difficult since he was nearly a foot taller than her and had a much longer wingspan. Yeah, he knew he was pressing her buttons, but he couldn’t help it. It was as if a little devil was sitting on his shoulder, goading him into tugging her pigtails, so to speak.
It hadn’t taken much effort to learn her routine, and despite telling himself he was playing with fire, he had made a point of crossing paths with her at least once a day. He couldn’t say why, exactly, except that he wanted to.
He liked her. Liked her sass. Her confidence. The way she seemed determined not to encourage him even though her pupils dilated whenever he managed to get near her. Clearly, she had no idea that by doing so, she was only piquing his interest.
Nick liked a challenge and, since his job wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five, he often appeared at different times throughout the day, keeping her on her toes. She never knew when to expect him, which meant it was more difficult for her to avoid him.
She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him with a look that would have made a lesser man cower. “I bet you have sisters you like to torment, don’t you?”
“Just one.” He grinned wider, more aroused than intimidated by her scowl. “But she’s bigger than you.”
Mack snorted. When he’d found her, she was just finishing up ten miles on the treadmill’s digitally simulated course. He didn’t know what made him snatch the workout towel out of her grasp before she could wipe away the sheen of perspiration; it was just an impulse he hadn’t tried hard to resist. With her skin flushed from her run and glistening like that, she looked sexy as hell.
“You are such an adultolescent.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “What did you just call me?”
“An adultolescent.” She rolled her eyes. Even that was attractive when Mack did it. “A person who has physically matured to adulthood, yet still behaves like an adolescent.”
“You made that up.” Even if it did fit the situation remarkably well.
“Did not. Google it.”
He didn’t, because he already knew by the confident gleam in her eye that he would find it and the definition would be exactly what she said it was, probably word for word. She was annoyingly knowledgeable that way, he’d discovered after a few well-timed, “coincidental” run-ins and some discreet investigation. His background in profiling didn’t hurt, either.
“How am I an adulto-whatever-you-said?”
“Adultolescent,” she corrected, taking advantage of his momentary loss of focus to make an impressive vertical leap and snatch the towel from his hands. “You’re a six-foot-two cop resorting to juvenile taunting just because you managed to beat me in a video game created for six-year-olds.”
He grinned widely at the reminder. Earlier, he’d tracked her to the center’s lounge, where she had been talking to a few of the pre-teens about upcoming sports try-outs. Somehow, he had managed to goad her into playing a video game with him (he may have shamelessly enlisted the support of the kids). Of course, she had no way of knowing that in Chicago, he’d worked with kids who ate, slept, and breathed the stuff. As a result, he had systematically handed Mack her ass in a best-of-three series of Mario Kart.
“Yeah, well you’re a sore loser,” he teased. “Do you know what that is, or should I Google that for you?
“I am not a sore loser,” she sniffed, lifting her chin. “I openly admit to sucking at video games. Best me at a real contest.”
His masculine interest surged. This was the first time she had suggested any interaction beyond their “coincidental” crossing of paths. It could be just the opening he’d been hoping for. “Such as?”
She scrunched up her nose as she thought about it. It was so damn cute. “Archery.”
“Who are you, Katniss Everdeen?” he quipped.
She smirked. “Can’t handle pointy sticks. Got it. What about hand-to-hand combat?”
He scoffed, though the lower half of his anatomy found the idea of getting up close and personal quite appealing. “Please. I’ve had dogs bigger than you.”
“Scared?” she taunted.
He snorted, but yeah, he was scared, all right. Scared of what it was about this woman that kept drawing him in. Scared of the dreams that kick-ass, sexy body of hers inspired. The most remarkable thing was, he didn’t think she had any idea she was doing it.
