Free Secrets and Lies (Crimson Romance) by Shay Lacy Page B

They didn’t believe he was capable of holding a serious job. He’d always be the clown, goofing off, and playing make-believe. Billy would always be considered the smart one. The serious one. The worthwhile one.
    Charlie tried to let Juliana’s doubt roll off him. All that mattered was that he prove to
himself
that he’d made something meaningful of his life. But, damn it, he wanted Juliana to think so, too. Once, she’d thought the world of him.
    Gently, he pushed her to the side, scooted to the edge of the couch, and stood up.
    “Charlie?”
    “I should go.” He strode into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up.
    He sensed her behind him. He didn’t look up, but continued to wash his hands.
    “Charlie.”
    Her slender hand stopped him as he reached for the towel and turned him to face her. She stood there in her glorious nudity. The hard-on that had been fading rose once more.
    Her brown eyes were filled with concern and confusion. “What did I say?”
    “It doesn’t matter.”
    “It does.”
    Charlie noted she kept hold of his wrist. What did she sense with her psychic ability when she touched him? Did she sense the lost boy who’d found a path to take him out of the mire of grief over Billy’s death?
    Charlie tried to explain. “I’ve been a P.I. for two years. Nothing else. All I have is my reputation. If I go back to California empty-handed, my client won’t refer me to anyone else, and he’ll never use my services again. Word will get around that I don’t deliver. Jobs will dry up. It’s hard enough starting out as a P.I. I don’t need any more strikes against me.”
    Her mouth opened and closed several times without saying anything. She was a cop’s daughter—her loyalty was to them. And he knew it was hard for her to accept what he said. He sighed. Subconsciously he’d hoped to spend another night with her. He’d just had her—or she him—yet he wanted her again and knew he’d want her a time or two after that.
    But was she making love to him, or to a memory?
    “I don’t understand you,” she said.
    “I know.” He gathered her nude body against him. The scent of sex was strong on her. It hardened his erection even further. She felt so good against him. Even though he knew he should kiss her goodbye and leave, his hands roamed her back down to her firm buttocks. She hummed her pleasure.
    Maybe just once more, for the last time.
    She got a condom on him before they sank to the floor. It was a tight fit in the bathroom. A little gymnastic contortion and then it was an even tighter fit inside her body. Then he was giving it—and her—his all, letting them both know the pleasure they’d be missing, how good it was between them.
    His ears rang with his exertions.
    “Was that the doorbell?” she gasped.
    He didn’t care. They’d just got their rhythm synchronized and found movements that didn’t bang his head or shoulders into anything. He wasn’t giving this up for the next hour if he was lucky.
    But whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up either. The person rang the bell over and over. It was damn distracting.
    “Charlie, let me up.”
    “No, damn it. Whoever it is can wait.”
    But apparently they couldn’t. Charlie heard the front door open. Somebody had a key. Crap! He bashed his head on the sink and saw stars. “Ow!”
    “Oh no!” Juliana wriggled out from under him and grabbed a bath towel just as a bellow preceded Captain Sanchez himself, catching them in the act for the second time in fifteen years.
    “Oh, shit!” three people swore.

CHAPTER 9
    Juliana’s father waited in the kitchen while they dressed. Neither she nor Charlie had had an orgasm, so he had to be as frustrated as she was. She noted he was semi-erect. Her lower body burned with what they hadn’t finished. But her father’s entrance prevented further sexcapades.
    “I’m sorry,” she said.
    He shrugged, smiling. “I should be used to it by now.” He leaned down to give her a