What About Him by Montgomery E.E

Author:Montgomery E.E [E.E, Montgomery]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

AFTER one of the longest Fridays he could remember, Aidan found himself dressing with more care than usual. He scowled at himself as he tried to get his hair to behave. “It’s not a date, Aidan. You’re simply accompanying a police officer to a club so he doesn’t stand out like a cop on a stakeout.” Regular and increasingly intimate phone calls notwithstanding. The doorbell rang.

“Shit, I hope whatever he chose to wear is better than those awful baggy clothes.” He gave up on his hair and walked briskly down the hallway, flinging open the door.

His voice failed him. Standing on his porch was a man he barely recognized. The size was the same, the square jaw and stubble were still there, and so was the wide grin, but nothing else looked familiar. “Where the hell did all the muscles come from?” Aidan blurted, then slapped his hand across his mouth in mortification. His eyes still wandered over the broad, muscle-packed body on display in front of him. Sam wore black jeans and a red T-shirt, but there was nothing remotely baggy about either one of them. Aidan swallowed and, as he removed his hand from his mouth, discreetly checked for drool.

Sam laughed his huge belly laugh, and Aidan relaxed a bit. Under all that solid, biteable—Aidan checked his tongue wasn’t hanging out of his mouth —it was still the affable man Aidan had come to know.

“Hello to you too,” the big man said, his gaze quickly running from Aidan’s head to toes and back.

“You look good.” Aidan’s face heated, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. He wasn’t usually so rude. “Sorry, Detective, but you have to admit this image is very different to the way you usually present.”

“It’s useful.” Sam shrugged. “I know the baggy clothes make me look a little more genial and a little less efficient. It relaxes victims and makes suspects underestimate me. And you did tell me to wear something tight.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean painted on,” Aidan exclaimed as his gaze was once again drawn to the clearly defined pecs. “What should I call you tonight?” Aidan asked.

“Call me Sam.”

Aidan glanced around before focusing on Sam again. “Shouldn’t I call you something else? Aren’t you undercover? What if I say something to blow it?”

“I’m not undercover, Aidan,” Sam said patiently.

He held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll just get my keys and we can go.” After Aidan carefully placed the draft stopper against the front door, they headed toward Sam’s car. Aidan couldn’t control his smile and chuckled as Sam slid into his seat, the tight jeans emphasizing his package.

“I’m sorry I said anything,” the big man groused, immediately knowing what had amused Aidan.

“I’m not. ‘Little Willy’ has been entertaining me ever since you told me.” Aidan giggled.

“Sorry. I’m sure I’ll be over it by the time we get to the club.”

“It’s not that funny.”

“I can see that.” Aidan giggled again, then made a concerted effort to calm down. It was mostly nervousness making him overreact.

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