Too Many Secrets

TWELVE

Kurt boiled with anger as he sat downstairs in the bar, waiting for Brittany to join him. He didn't want to imagine what she and Romeo were doing upstairs in his penthouse suite. Kurt was able to listen to their conversation until about the time they started arm wrestling. Something must have happened to have the earpiece fall out of her ear, because after that, all he heard was muffling sounds. At first, he thought about going upstairs and making up some kind of story of why he needed to interrupt them, but when he heard them laughing at different times throughout the evening, he realized she was not in any harm.

Grumbling under his breath, he grasped the beer bottle and lifted it to his lips. He knew his partner well, and by now she was having doubts about Reeder being the perp. Men like Reeder knew how to sweet talk women. Men like Reeder were perfect liars. Their good looks, their charm—but mostly, their money—would turn any woman's head.

Not for one second did Kurt believe Reeder was innocent. Unfortunately, he needed to find proof, because Brittany would demand it. Brittany would be hard to sway, especially if she allowed Reeder to kiss her.

He tightened his fingers on the neck of the bottle, wishing it was someone's throat instead. If it was the last thing Kurt did, he'd show Brittany that Reeder was the murderer. Of course, sitting here, wallowing in his pity wasn't helping matters. But he couldn't do anything until he knew she was all right. He had to make sure she didn't spend the night in the penthouse of love...

There had been nothing but silence on the other end of his earpiece, and that worried Kurt. That could only mean one thing. She and Reeder were kissing...or possibly more.

He swore and took another gulp of beer. He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling the urge to plow his fist into someone's face. His mind pictured Reeder, and it would bring satisfaction to Kurt if he busted up that man's perfect nose and chin, and cut his lips, and give him a black eye—or two.

The bar wasn't very full tonight, but the waitress and the bartender were flirting at the counter. The girl's giggles nearly drowned out the country singer's voice booming from the overhead speakers as he sang about losing his love, his dog, and his truck...and not in that order.

Thankfully, Kurt still had his dog, and his truck, however, he never really had a true love. Strange, but for the past year, he hadn't dated that much, either. He thought it was because he was focusing on his job. But now he realized it was because of Britt. The women he'd gone out with weren't as adorable as Brittany Russell. They couldn't make him laugh like she could. They couldn't make him feel like a man, as Britt could. He could be himself around her, but those other women, he felt as if they wanted more out of him.

Closing his eyes, he tried to get the images of Britt out of his head from the other day when she was wearing that sexy red dress. He couldn't remember a time when he'd seen her so beautiful. She was a lovely woman, however, when Brittany was all dolled up like that...she was a knock-out!

What he wouldn't give for one moment with her, to take her in his arms, and to kiss her passionately, just to see what it would be like. Yet, every time the thought crossed his mind, he pushed it away. They made great partners. They could practically read each other's minds. Did he really want a girlfriend like that?

Most definitely!

In the year they'd been partnered together, he couldn't think of a time when he'd felt this much jealousy. He hated this emotion, but he didn't know how to make it leave.

From over the strong aroma of the beer, another scent touched his senses. Roses...like Brittany's perfume.

Quickly, he snapped out of his thoughts and swung around. Brittany stood by his side with her arms folded over her bosom as she tapped her toe. Her irritated expression told him she expected an explanation soon.

He motioned to the empty chair. "Want to join me?"

"Not here."

"Where?"

She sighed heavily. "In the car. Now!"

Without waiting for his answer, she turned and marched out of the bar, heading toward the double glass doors of the hotel. He fished in his pocket for the tip, slapped it on the table, and hurried out of the bar. By the time he reached her, she was climbing in her car. He moved around to the passenger side and climbed inside.

The clock on her car's radio read 11:30 pm. He cursed under his breath. She'd been with the perp for four and a half hours?

"Let's get one thing clear," she said with an edge to her voice. "When you're in my ear, you need to stop trying to carry on a conversation with me." She finally turned her head to look at him. Her gaze pierced right through him. "Your main purpose is to take notes. I'm assuming you were recording it, right?"

"Of course I was."

She released a heavy breath and her shoulders relaxed. "Kurt, do you realize how hard it is to carry on a conversation with someone when someone else is in your ear trying to talk, as well?" She shook her head. "It's hard to focus. It's hard to think, and I really needed to think of what to say next to Austin. We still don't know if he has an alibi for Sunday morning."

He toyed with the gearshift on the console between the bucket seats. His head swam from the alcohol he'd consumed tonight. How many bottles of beer had it been? Two? Four? In four and a half hours, it could have been much more than that. The sports station on the TV inside the bar, and the popcorn, just hadn't satisfied him.

"So what happened after the arm wrestle?" He raised his gaze to her. "Your voices were muffled, and I couldn't hear what you were saying. The only thing I heard," his voice turned harsh, "was when you two laughed."

He studied her face, and when crimson spread across her face, he fisted his hands. They had kissed! She didn't have to tell him. Her expression said it all.

"I'm sorry for losing my earpiece. While we were arm wrestling, Austin started tickling me, and well, I fell to the floor. That's when my earpiece fell out. I quickly grabbed it before he noticed. I didn't dare place it back in my ear and risk him seeing, so I stuffed it in my pants pocket."

He nodded. "I figured as much." Leaning closer to her, he took her hand. "But now you have to understand something. We are partners. We are in this together. We are supposed to watch each other's backs, so if you don't let me in your ear, what good am I going to be?"

She sighed. "Kurt, all I'm asking is that you not try to carry on a conversation with me while I'm trying to talk to someone else. I get distracted so easily, and I can't think of what I'm going to say next."

He glanced down at her hand, so very delicate and soft. He stroked his thumb across her knuckles. Would the rest of her arm feel this soft? When she slowly pulled away from him, his chest clenched. It was because of Reeder, he just knew it.

"I better go," he said, turning toward the door.

She grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere, Hamill."

Hope sprang inside of him, and he swung his head toward her. But her expression wasn't exactly a pleasant one. She appeared stern. Even her grasp was a little tight. "I'm not?"

"No. You're drunk, so I'm taking you home." Her face relaxed slightly. "After all, I got your back, remember?"

Chuckling, he rested against the seat and nodded. "Then take me home, partner."

They didn't talk much on the way to his apartment. Her radio was playing classic rock, but for some reason, it calmed him. He preferred country music, but it was enjoyable watching Brittany drive and sing along with the artists. A few times, she tried to be funny on purpose, and he laughed.

Seeing her this way made him realize she was different on the job. She was more serious and focused. Off duty, she was laid back and easy going. And yes, even silly. His heart couldn't help but squeeze tighter with longing. Why was he allowing his emotions to come forth now when he'd kept them in check for a year? Was it because of his jealousy for Reeder?

No matter what, he needed to find evidence that proved Reeder was the murderer. That was the only way to bring Britt back to him where she belonged.

Finally, she pulled in front of his apartment building and put the car in park. She smiled at him—a smile that had always softened his heart.

"Do I need to walk you to your apartment? Or can you do that yourself?"

"I think I can handle it." He took her hand again. "Thanks for caring enough to want to see me home safe."

"Kurt, I just can't believe you were drinking while on the job. That's not like you at all."

"Yeah, I know."

"So why were you? You've hung out in bars before working undercover, and you've never drank. So why now?"

He shrugged. "Maybe it was because I was bored with watching the sports station that was on TV. Or maybe it was because I was tired of hearing the waitress flirt with the bartender. Then again, I think it was because," he sat up and leaned toward her, "I was tired of hearing my partner play kissy-face with the perp."

She scolded. "Kurt Hamill! I did not play kissy-face with Austin. I'll admit, he did try to kiss me after dinner, but once I started arm wrestling with him, that moment passed."

"Don't tell me he didn't try to kiss you goodnight before you left."

She arched an eyebrow. "Even if he did, it's none of your business."

"I think differently, Russell." He leaned a little closer. "I'm your partner! And you're a police detective. Kissing a perp is wrong on so many different levels, and you know it."

Scowling, she shook her head. "You're full of it, Hamill. Why is it wrong for me to pretend while I'm undercover, and yet it's not wrong for you to do it?" She paused, leaning closer into him. "Many times when you have gone undercover, you have pretended to seduce women just to get answers. What's the difference between what you have done and what I'm doing? Not only that, I've gone undercover before and pretended to seduce a perp for answers, and it never bothered you then."

"Do you mean to tell me you don't know this?" He raised his voice.

"No, Hamill. Please enlighten me."

"I'll tell you what the difference is. The difference is back then, I was never jealous of the perp...not like I am with Reeder." She sucked in a quick breath as her eyes widened, but he continues. "And another difference is that when you kiss him, you enjoy it, whereas you've never done that before."

She slowly mouthed the word no. His fuzzy mind told him to continue. "And, another difference is that with this case, more than the others, I've been thinking about you different. I've been wondering what it would be like to be Reeder—to hold you, and kiss you passionately."

"No, Kurt," she whispered.

His breathing was ragged as he stared into her lovely eyes. She didn't pull away, but he didn't think that meant she realized she wanted him as much as he wanted her, either. His confession had probably shocked her, which is only a natural reaction.

Why was he even trying? It was obvious where her heart lied, and it was certainly not with him.

"Oh, never mind. Forget I said anything," he snapped and hurried out of the car.

He focused on the pathway to his apartment. His head pounded with adrenaline, and he cursed his drunkenness. If he'd been sober, he wouldn't have said anything to her. He would have continued to hold the anguish inside. He would have dealt with it—just as he had to deal with this feeling for her ever since they were partnered together.

A couple of times he stumbled up the stairs, but he finally reached his apartment. He fumbled with the keys and tried to get them in the right keyhole, since he could see two of them. Cursing again, he slammed his fist against the door.

"Kurt Hamill! For goodness sake, will you stop?" Brittany grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to get in my apartment. What does it look like I'm doing?"

She rolled her eyes. "It looks like you're trying to break into your neighbor's apartment, instead."

She looked back at the door he'd just tried to enter. His fifty-year-old neighbor peeked out, his face white with worry. Brittany forced a laugh. "Please forgive Kurt. He's been drinking." Mr. Kirkpatrick nodded and closed the door.

Brittany looked back at him and held out her hand. "Give me the keys."

If he wasn't so sloshed, maybe he'd feel embarrassed. He was sure it would come tomorrow, along with a huge headache, of course. He gave her the keys and she opened his door. Walking ahead of her, he wearily went inside.

As he made his way to the couch, he glanced over his shoulder as she was shutting the door. "Why are you still here?" He practically fell on the piece of furniture.

"Because our conversation is not over." She sat beside him, staring deep into his eyes.

"Actually, it is. Tomorrow, all of this will have just been a nightmare for me."

"Kurt." She took both of his hands. "Do you really feel that way about me, or is that just the liquor talking?"

He must have heard wrong, because he could have sworn her voice was softer. He blinked several times, trying to make his vision clear. Why was she looking at him with so much tenderness in her eyes?

"I really feel that way. The liquor is helping me to get it off my chest, since it's been there since you first entered our precinct."

"Why haven't you said anything before now?"

"Because I didn't realize it until we became partners, and by then, it was too late."

Smiling, she lay back against the couch, keeping her gaze on him. "The truth is, I've had those feeling for you, too. I didn't want to say anything because I enjoyed being your partner. I didn't want to ruin that."

The alcohol must be disturbing his hearing, because he for sure didn't hear her correctly. "You...you were in love with me?"

Shyly, she shrugged. "I don't know if what I felt was love, but I definitely had a crush on you."

He turned toward her and pulled her in his arms. "Had? Are you saying you don't feel that way about me now?"

Brittany's expression wavered, and he wasn't sure if she was sad or scared. Maybe both. She also appeared hesitant to answer.

"Kurt, I...don't know."

"Shh, don't say that," he whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers. She didn't pull away, but allowed him to kiss her. The kiss was soft, and sweet. Sweet? No, he didn't want sweet! As he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, she pushed him away.

"Kurt, this isn't right."

"Yes, it is. I can make it right." He tried to bring her back, but she rose from the couch, shaking her head.

"Kurt, when I kiss you, I don't want to taste alcohol. Sorry, but this isn't the right time."

Relief flooded through him, knowing it was just the beer that repelled her. "All right. Then, um...I'll see you tomorrow?"

She smiled at him before moving to the door. "Well, if you can see through that headache, sure, I'll see you tomorrow at work."

He chuckled and relaxed into the couch as she walked out and shut the door. His heart soared with happiness. Perhaps there was a chance to make Brittany love him for more than a partner.