Lucky Streak

Italian food, she formulated an addition to her plan. Once she explained to the owner that by feeding the local police department, he would hopefully increase his lunch and dinner trade, he agreed to send over free lunch. Of course, it helped that she mentioned she was a concierge at the Boston Crown Chandler hotel and she’d return the favor by talking up his restaurant to the hotel clientele. Once day soon, she hoped her words would be true and she’d do as she promised.

Pleased with herself and her plan, Amber headed home. Close to noon, dressed in fresh clothes, she sat down at the old PC in Mike’s apartment and booted it up. She printed out maps of the area and took note of the five-star restaurants in the vicinity, and then the smaller cafes. It would take time, but she’d learn the area by doing a little research each day.

Finally, she shut down the computer and stored her papers on what she wanted to consider her side of the bed, on her nightstand. Then she headed to Mike’s precinct in time to view his reaction to the spread of Italian food that arrived out of the blue.

MIKE DEPOSITED the remains of the Vegas winnings in the bank and spent the morning at the station. Although he had no real right to pry, he ran a credit check on Amber Rose and discovered no shady dealings- providing him with another glimmer of hope she wasn’t running a scam on him. Though she could be using him to fund her life during a rough patch, at least she wasn’t lying to him outright. By omission was another story. The woman was a bundle of contradictions. Savvy enough to make it on her own for years, dealing with a man like Marshall, yet emotional enough to be hurt by Mike’s lingering anger. He couldn’t let her big eyes get to him. He had to stick to his divorce plan.

“Hey, man, you’ve been distracted all morning. Everything okay?” his partner, Dan, asked.

Mike nodded. “Everything’s fine. Just jet-lagged, that’s all.” Mike had no intention of telling Dan about his marriage to Amber or the rest of the drama. The fewer people who knew, the easier it would be to put his wife on a plane and fly her out of his. Things could go on as usual with nobody any the wiser, Mike thought.

Even his father would see and respect the wisdom in that plan.

His father. Mike had promised Edward he’d call him today, but he didn’t want to answer questions about his marriage while he had a bunch of nosy cops sitting within listening distance. He’d just have to call later, from the privacy of his home.

Privacy with Amber there? Now, that was a joke. Mike shook his head and tried to focus on the phone calls he’d been making.

“Is there a Mr. Mike Corwin here?” someone with a heavy Italian accent asked.

Mike swiveled in his chair. “I’m Corwin. What can I do for you?”

“Lunchtime,” the balding man said as he strode over to Mike’s desk.

Behind him, two women followed with bags, and they began to unload containers of delicious-smelling Italian food. “Where can we put this?” one of them asked.

“Wait. I didn’t order anything.” Mike rose from his seat.

“Not to worry,” the man said. “A woman named Amber stopped by my place of business this morning. She’s mutta bella,” he said, beaming. “And smart. She suggested I bring my food to Boston’s finest and let you indulge. Then maybe you’ll recommend my place around town. Capice? ”

Dan stood beside him. “Amber?” he asked, obviously recognizing the name.

Before Mike could unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to answer, Tom, their captain, cleared an old table. “You can put the food right here,” he said, grinning. Turning to Mike, he said, “You can explain later. For now, we’re all going to enjoy.”

Amid murmurs of approval, his colleagues began to filter into the room, waiting for the restaurant staff to finish the setup. They’d even brought plastic plates, forks and knives.

Mike’s stomach churned, torn between wanting to kill Amber for infiltrating this part of his life, and gratitude because he and his colleagues rarely had the opportunity to enjoy a decent lunch. Thanks to Amber, they would indulge today. And everyone in the precinct seemed thrilled with the surprise.

Only Dan, who’d met Amber in Vegas, seemed as concerned as Mike himself. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Mike spread his hands in front of him.

“Better yet, what kind of a psycho woman follows a man across the country and then proceeds to feed his friends and coworkers?” Dan continued, not giving Mike a chance to reply.

Not that he knew what to say anyway.

“His wife, that’s what kind of psycho woman would do something like this,” Amber said, suddenly appearing beside them. “Hello, Dan,” she said, patting his shoulder. “How’s married life treating you?”

“Oh, shit,” Mike muttered.

“Wife?” Dan practically shouted. “What the hell did you do in Vegas anyway?”

Silence descended around them, broken soon after by an impromptu round of applause.

Mike could barely process his thoughts as people slapped him on the back, shook Amber’s hand and complimented him on bringing back a gem of a wife-a woman who cared not just about his stomach, but his friends’ too.

Only Dan watched them warily.

“I’ll explain later,” Mike promised his partner.

“You bet you will. Natalie will want to have dinner with the two of you.” He shook his head. “You. Married.” He looked perplexed and confused.

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” Mike said. “Go eat.” He turned away from Dan and toward Amber. “You. Outside. Now. We need to talk.”

She raised an eyebrow, but let him grab her hand and pull her onto the street.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked once they were alone on the sidewalk in front of the station.

Amber blinked at him, all soft eyes and confusion. “I thought you’d be surprised, not mad. What’s wrong? You don’t like Italian food?” she asked, obviously trying for humor.

Mike clenched his jaw, steeling himself against her appeal. He needed to be strong and make her understand how things should be between them until they returned to Vegas. “I don’t like my private life being bandied around. Especially since I didn’t plan on telling anyone we were married.”

“Oh.”

He heard her disappointment and felt it inside him. Once again, her error had left him feeling lower than dirt. Despite it all, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt her.

“Look, this is a complicated situation,” he said, meeting her gaze.

“Do I embarrass you?”

He took her in with one glance. From her strappy sandals, simple sundress, to her sunny hair, she was a breath of fresh air. “Hell, no, you don’t embarrass me. Those guys inside are probably frothing at the mouth with jealousy.” Unable to stop himself, he ran his hand through her soft curls.

She wet her lips and her eyes turned softer with gratitude, and hazy with that damn attraction that was always there between them. Simmering just below the surface.

Daring him to ignore it.

As if he could.

He didn’t know who started it, but soon his lips were on hers, seeking her sweetness, apologizing for hurting her, showing her she wasn’t an embarrassment, but a woman he desired. His tongue swept through her mouth, feeding off her delicious taste.

“Excuse me,” Dan said, clearing his throat when they didn’t break apart right away. “But there are people inside waiting for an explanation. And some just want to congratulate you.”

Mike stepped back.

Amber’s cheeks flushed pink. “I guess we should head back in.”

Mike inclined his head and gestured for her to walk ahead of him. Which gave Dan the opportunity to add, “And some of us just want to know if you’ve lost your damn mind.”

But even his partner’s concern couldn’t stop the grin that spread across Mike’s face. Because as Edward had said, Amber was hot. And she was a challenge-he didn’t know what she’d do next.

Still, Mike had to admit she was trying to make things up to him. She treated him like the center of her