that had sprung up between them and spend the day lost in carnal pursuits. Hell, why not stay on the boat and just jump from harbor to harbor until it was time to go back. Brendan could take them down the coast to Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket. Or they could go farther south, looking for warmer weather.
Conor considered the notion, then cursed inwardly. Already she was making him question his decisions, put aside his responsibility as a cop for a few more adventures in the bedroom. If he wasn’t careful, that would put them both at risk.
“I told Olivia I’d take care of Tommy for her,” Brendan explained. “He seems to like it here and I could use the company. When things have settled down, she can come back and get him.”
Olivia pushed up on her toes and gave Brendan a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured.
It was only a kiss of gratitude, but Conor didn’t like it. He knew Brendan all too well, knew his penchant for charming the ladies. While Brendan was smooth and disarming, Conor had always been lacking in social skills. He’d never developed the ability to sweet-talk a woman, to enthrall her with just a few well-chosen phrases. Women usually found him attractive for what he didn’t say, rather than what he did.
“Yeah, thanks,” Conor said, holding out his hand for Olivia. She said her goodbyes to Dylan, and Conor watched as his brother grabbed her around the waist and swung her up onto the dock. He jumped off after her, then held his hand out to Conor.
Conor ignored the offered aid, clenched his teeth, and swung up onto the dock himself, ignoring the sharp ache in his side. He’d only been up for an hour, but already the nagging pain was making him edgy. Hell, he was ready to bite his brothers’ heads off for touching Olivia.
Brendan and Dylan accompanied them to the end of the dock. When they reached the car, Dylan tossed him the keys, then jogged around to the opposite side to gallantly open the door for Olivia. Before he closed it, he leaned inside and whispered something to Olivia. She giggled softly then gave him a wave goodbye.
Conor started the car and then pulled away from the dock. As they drove through town, neither one of them said a word. He considered apologizing for his curt words. He even thought about bringing up the subject of their night together, laying down some new ground rules. But he knew the chances of him saying something stupid were pretty high. Maybe if he just didn’t mention it, they could go on as they had before.
As they headed away from the water toward the interstate, he risked a glance over at her, curious to know what Dylan had whispered, yet too stubborn to ask. Olivia’s gaze was fixed on the road ahead and she clutched her fingers in her lap, as if sitting next to him made her uncomfortable.
Conor turned his eyes back to the road, then noticed a sign for a discount store on the right. He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled into the parking lot. Olivia sent him a questioning look. “Where are we going?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
He found a spot near the entrance, then hopped out of the car to open Olivia’s door. But she had already stepped out by the time he got there. Conor took her hand, glad to have an excuse to touch her again, and led her through the front doors. He glanced at the store directory, grabbed a shopping cart, then pulled her along behind him.
When they reached the lingerie department he stopped. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a credit card. She looked down at it. “What’s this for?”
“Underwear,” he said. “On the Boston P.D. Go crazy. Buy as much as you want.” A slow smile curled her lips and relief flooded his senses. He could still make her happy.
“Underwear?”
He nodded, his heart warming beneath the delight on her face. Her earlier anger was quickly forgotten. “Even though you’re used to wearing designer clothes, discount is all I can offer for now,” Conor said. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to give her more. “Buy anything else you need.”
With a cry of delight, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. “Underwear,” she said in the same tone that a woman might say “diamonds” or “pearls.” Olivia stared up into his eyes for a long moment. He fought the crazy urge to kiss her, trying to ignore the perfect shape of her mouth and the way her lips glistened beneath the harsh store lighting. He put aside the vivid memories of all the kisses they’d shared already. But, in the end, he couldn’t pass on the chance to steal just one more.
Conor bent his head and touched her lips with his, just barely a kiss, yet enough to satisfy his craving and reassure himself that he’d repaired any damage he’d caused to their relationship. Then Olivia turned and began to pick through the displays and racks. At first, Conor stood back, observing her selections. But when she disappeared into a fitting room, he wandered over to a bin of black underthings. He picked up a pair of panties, no more than two scraps of satin and a bit of lace, and studied them for a long moment.
“Can I help you?”
Conor spun around to find an owl-eyed saleslady looking at him through horn-rimmed glasses. He cleared his throat and quickly wadded the panties and shoved them into his jacket pocket. “No,” he murmured. “I-I’m just waiting for someone.”
“You aren’t planning to steal those panties, are you?” she asked.
Startled, Conor laughed uneasily. Then he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced his badge. “I’m a cop,” he said.
She peered at his badge, then back at his face. Conor shifted uneasily. What? Did she think he planned to wear the panties himself? He pulled the panties from his pocket just as Olivia emerged from the fitting room.
“I’m done here,” she said, piling her selections into the cart. “Can we look for a few T-shirts and sweaters?”
“Sure,” Conor murmured, surreptitiously tossing the black panties into the basket as well. Then he gave the saleslady a dry smile and turned back to Olivia. “Come on, let’s go.”
They wandered around the store, Olivia stopping in nearly every department to browse. When she got to the men’s department, she pulled a couple of flannel shirts from a table, then tossed in three T-shirts. Though he didn’t say anything before she moved on, Conor liked the idea of her choosing his clothes. It was a familiar, almost intimate, gesture that warmed him in the same way her touch did.
“Before we go, we need to get some medical supplies,” Conor said after a half hour of shopping. Though he was loathe to put an end to her fun, his side was beginning to ache incessantly. “Bandages and alcohol and adhesive tape.”
Olivia frowned, then moaned softly, her eyes going wide with concern. “I-I’m sorry. Oh, I forgot all about your wound. Let’s go.” She grabbed the cart and hurried down the aisle toward health and beauty. But as they passed the men’s underwear department, Conor remembered he could use some extra boxer shorts. Maybe it was optimistic to believe Olivia might see his underwear again, but it paid to be prepared. He had no idea whether Dylan had thought to bring him clean underwear. Conor veered off and grabbed a few packages, then tossed them into the cart.
When they reached the checkout counter, Olivia picked the merchandise out of the basket and put it on the conveyor belt. But when she came to the black panties, she held them up, then glanced at Conor suspiciously. He forced a smile, then gave her a shrug. “How did those get in there?”
For a moment, he thought she might hand them to the checker to return to the shelf. But then she tossed the panties down next to the others, a tiny grin curling the corners of her mouth. Conor let out a tightly held breath, imagining how she’d look in black satin, imagining himself as he hooked a finger beneath that lace and tugged them down her legs.
As he walked out of the store carrying Olivia’s bags, he considered the possibilities that their purchases held. And though he should have pushed the idea from his mind without a second thought, Conor couldn’t help but wonder what their next night together might bring.
“IT’S A RETIREMENT COMPLEX,” Olivia murmured, staring at the entrance to Waterbrook Manor. “‘A complete residential community for active seniors’?” she read. “I don’t think we’re going to blend in here,” she said.
“Maybe not,” Conor said. “But then this is the last place Red Keenan would look. I doubt that the people here have any underworld connections. And it’s rent-free. No one can track us.”
But Olivia had learned to be suspicious of every situation. They were supposed to be safe at the Happy Patriot and Conor had gotten shot. They should have been safe on
