Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold) by Tee O'Fallon Page A

you’ve got one sick sense of humor. You could have burned my tongue off, not to mention destroyed my entire digestive tract! That’s assault in any courtroom.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. “With three older brothers, I was forced to learn innovative ways to keep up with them.”
    Mike hooked his hands on his duty belt and shook his head. “What, did you grow up with the Manson family? ’Cause if that was your idea of a joke I’d hate to be around when you have a family spat.”
    Chuck, Leo, and Danny started to laugh again, stopping short when Cassie shot them an angry glare. Somehow, she had to make good here with Mike. She really was beginning to feel lousy about what she’d done. Or almost done.
    “We’re not quite as bad as the Manson family,” Cassie said. “We’re really more like the Brady Bunch, or the Partridge Family.”
    Mike uttered a sarcastic laugh. “More like the Sopranos, I’d bet. Bumping off anyone who looks at you the wrong way.”
    “No, not the Sopranos.” Cassie shook her head, racking her brain for a way to defuse the situation. She gave him a hesitant smile. “The Sopranos were Italian.”
    Sighing, she took a risk and rested her hand on his forearm, feeling the steely tension simmering beneath his skin. The wary gleam in his eyes softened, and for a moment Cassie could swear he was about to smile.
    “How can I make it up to you?” she asked.
    Mike opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a call on his radio.
    “Chief, the state police colonel is trying to reach you,” the dispatcher said.
    Mike canted his head and clicked the mic. “Tell him I’ll call him in five.”
    “Ten-four.”
    To Cassie, he said, “Rest assured, I’ll get back to you on that.” A moment later, he was gone.
    Oh boy.
    Cassie didn’t want to contemplate what kind of sentence he’d impose on her. She continued to watch him as he shoved open the door to the Nest, got into his Explorer, and drove in the direction of the police station. An eerie chill crept up her spine. She of all people knew that look on a cop’s face.
    She’d made a rookie mistake and let her feelings get in the way. The result—she’d just been added to the top of the police chief’s shit list.

Chapter Eight
    The hearty aroma of tender meat, fresh vegetables, and red wine filled the kitchen as Cassie stirred the pot of beef bourguignon with a long, heavy spoon. She sighed, feeling like a complete idiot.
    She’d assumed Mike had broken off their steamy, sensual, roadside embrace because he had that hot little brunette waiting for him at home. But in the two days since she’d spiked Mike’s chili with hot sauce, Sue and Rose had discreetly uncovered the identity of the brunette Mike had been having coffee with. Mike’s sister, Moira.
    Turned out Moira was a freelance food critic who traveled all over the country. Mike hadn’t seen her in over a year, and she was passing through the area on her way to see their parents in the city.
    The biggest, most shameful and humiliating lump formed in her throat. She’d practically poisoned the chief of police and all for being affectionate toward his sister. And she’d lumped him in with the likes of her last date. Come to think of it, their behavior had been more like siblings, not a couple. She’d just wanted—no, needed—to believe it had been otherwise. Or she’d have had to address her feelings for him.
    Something that scared the hell out of her.
    As much as it killed her, Cassie had a flock of crow to eat and owed Mike a mountain-sized apology. And now that she knew he really hadn’t been flaunting a woman in her face, taking her mind off their hot roadside encounter was a virtual impossibility.
    For the last two mornings, she’d awoken with the bedsheets twisted around her sweat-soaked body, her mind running rampant with erotic thoughts. She could still taste him, feel his lips on hers. His strong hands on her bare skin. His mouth on her