Free Manhattan Flame (A Bridge & Tunnel Romance Book 2) by Mira Gibson Page A

smile she shot him was full blown and caused him to stiffen in his pants, but thank God his expression wasn’t giving him away.
    She took hold of his hand and they started walking north towards the subway.
    He only hoped the train car wouldn’t be so crowded that they would have to press up against each other with the sway of the tunnel...
    But then again, that might be nice.

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    As soon as Kevin followed her into her studio apartment, she realized how cramped it was and tried not to feel embarrassed.
    He waded gradually into the space, coming to the foot of her bed where it met the loveseat, and slowly pivoted, taking in the room.
    At least it wasn’t a mess, though her desk was covered with photography prints she planned on scrapping.
    “Can I get you a beer?” she asked, figuring a cop like Kevin would prefer a blue-collar beverage over whiskey or wine.
    “Sure,” he told her, glancing over at the window.
    As he neared it, inspecting the lock and leaning into the glass to perhaps check out the fire escape, Tasha rounded the wall that separated the main room from the kitchen and grabbed a Lagunitas IPA from a six-pack in the refrigerator. After scraping the lid off with a bottle opener, she plucked a long-stem wine glass from the cabinet over the sink, found a half-empty bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge, and poured herself a generous glass, then returned just as Kevin frowned at the loveseat.
    She’d done her best arranging the furniture in her apartment, but there were no chairs near or across from the loveseat and the thing definitely wasn’t wide enough for two.
    Handing him the beer, she invited him to have a seat. Her desk chair was far from comfortable, but as he lowered onto the tiny couch she grasped the wooden chair by its back and carried it over.
    When she sat adjacent to him, he took a long haul of his beer and glanced at the coffee table where a stray coaster was resting beside her laptop. He slid the coaster near and placed the bottle on it.
    “I don’t think you should be alone,” he said frankly.
    She smiled, at first assuming he was referencing their kiss, but his expression seemed serious. His brows were knit together and his posture—hunching forward, elbows on knees—indicated the situation might be far more dangerous than she’d thought.
    Her smile faded as she said, “I live alone. I’m constantly running all over the city by myself. I have friends, but we all have our own lives. They can’t be with me all the time.”
    “The guy who’s been following you is named Alexi Vishnevsky. From the digging I managed, I learned he works for the Avandeyev crime family and though no connections have been made between Avandeyev and what you witnessed on the pier... there are no coincidences.”
    She was stuck on crime family and it was a long moment before she asked, “So they’re too big to touch? They’re above the law?”
    “They’re not above the law,” he assured her. “But...”
    He grabbed his beer from the coffee table and drank. When he lowered the bottle, he didn’t return it to the table, but set it between his legs, leaning back.
    “I think Avandeyev might have his hooks in the precinct.”
    He had alluded to as much when they’d met at the diner, but his point, the implication, hadn’t landed then like it was now.
    “So he really is above the law,” she pointed out. Because she was uncomfortable or perhaps overwhelmed feeling at her wits end, she found herself letting out a breathy laugh.
    Kevin stared at her.
    Her laugh twisted into a futile groan until she took a sip of wine, which quieted her, but didn’t do a thing to calm her nerves.
    “He’s not just following me to intimidate me,” she guessed, thinking out loud. “He’s... what? Going to kill me?”
    He fell silent, but it was a clear enough answer.
    “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “I think he’s tracking you to find out your schedule, when you’re with people, at work, when