Connor chuckled. “Oh, of course. Of course.” He gave Diego the once-over. “I didn’t realize we had many P.R.s in Boston.”
Seriously? It was as if the guy was trying to start a fight. Could he be that gauche, or was he angling to distract them from something else? There was no way he knew they wanted to interview him about O’Malley. Or was there?
Diego didn’t rise to the bait. He stood staring back at the other man with a vague smile on his face. Ronan had to hand it to him. He was a cooler head than Ronan. A few tense seconds ticked by before Jack intervened.
“The boys have something to talk to you about, Connor. I’m going over to have a look at my new grandniece.” He gestured to a couple of his friends who’d been hanging nearby, eyes and ears open to the weird interaction. They got the message and helped him steer away.
Connor eyed Ronan and Diego suspiciously. “What do you need to talk to me about? I’m a desk man these days.”
“We know, sir.” Once again, Diego’s ability to shut down any anger he felt was impressive. “We’re actually interested in anything you can tell us about an old snitch of yours and Ronan’s father’s. Seamus O’Malley. Do you remember him?”
Connor’s eyes went wide at the mention of the vic’s name. Ronan didn’t think the guy should ever quit the force and go into acting because he wasn’t very convincing.
“Gee, I don’t know, fellas. We had lots of snitches back in the day, and Rory was always better at working them than I was. Let me think.” With his hand rubbing his chin, he stared at the ground for close to a minute. “I think I do remember the guy, skinny, shifty-eyed, although they kind of all were you know,” he added with a hollow chuckle. “A poor boy working the parameter of the mob, not a big fish.” As if any snitch ever was high up the chain of command. “Why do you ask?”
“He’s dead,” Ronan said. “His throat was slit almost a week ago.”
Connor spread his arms out. “Well, now that’s hardly surprising. Guys like that usually end up killed or spending the rest of their lives in Walpole. He was no Whitey Bulger, if you know what I mean.”
Ronan leaned into the guy a bit. “Yeah, the funny thing was, he’d been living on the down-low in West Roxbury since around the time my folks were murdered.”
Connor’s face morphed into sadness. This expression, at least, looked more genuine. “I don’t know what to say. There was nothing in the evidence to suggest O’Malley or any of Rory’s snitches had anything to do with the killing. At least, not that I know of. It wasn’t my case. I was too close to be let in on the investigation. It was handled by other cops, as you well know.”
“And never solved,” Ronan bit out.
Diego’s hand landed gently on Ronan’s arm, whether in comfort or in warning, he wasn’t sure.
“Do you remember seeing or hearing anything about O’Malley since that time?” Diego asked.
“No, can’t say that I did.” Connor shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry, boys, I can’t help you.”
“Thanks for your time anyway.” Curling his fingers around Ronan’s arm, Diego walked away, pulling Ronan with him.
Ronan managed to give Connor a brief nod when all he really wanted to do was knock him to the ground and beat information out of him. “He’s lying,” he hissed to his partner.
“I know,” Diego mumbled back. He slowed down and turned part way to look behind them. “We’ll probably find something helpful on O’Malley’s laptop,” he called out to Connor.
Ronan turned, too, and saw Connor frozen in mid-stride as he moved to leave the yard.
“Laptop, you say?” the older man called out.
“Yeah,” Diego replied with a grin. “It’s an old beat-up thing filled with porn, but you never know.”
With that parting shot, he kept going, and Ronan didn’t resist when Diego tugged on his arm once more. They headed over to where Cassidy was now talking to Finn and Michael.
Ronan shook Diego’s hand off. “I thought it was a
netbook,
and you just baited him.”
“I figure he would understand laptop better, and damn right I did. P.R.? I didn’t hear that shit back in New York. What does he think this is West fucking Side fucking Story?”
Ronan couldn’t help giving his partner a feral grin. “I like your style, Nieves.”
Ronan meant the compliment. Connor was lying through his teeth, and if he was involved with O’Malley’s murder, he would sweat the knowledge that he and whoever he was involved with had missed something as potentially important as a computer with incriminating files. Hopefully, it would goad them into doing something stupid, although what that would be, he couldn’t say. It was still a good strategy.
Yeah, he liked his new partner just fine. They could be great friends, too, if only the asshole wasn’t interested in Cassidy.
****
If there was a word in either English or Spanish that could describe the day accurately, Diego didn’t know it. Spending the afternoon with both Cassidy and Ronan would have been surreal enough. Add in the strange interview with Mahurin that eerily tied eight-year-old murders with a current one, and you had one fuckingly weird day. Except that one disparaging word wasn’t going to cut it because he’d enjoyed himself on many levels. The Callaghan/Malloy family was big, boisterous, and welcoming. It reminded him of his own and made him both more and less homesick. He’d appreciated the way he’d been accepted into the Irish clan so readily on the bare fact that he was Ronan’s partner.
Being with Cassidy, touching her, talking to her, and just having the pleasure of watching her had been wonderful. The only thing that marred his time with her was the very thing that had made him welcome at the birthday barbeque to begin with—Ronan. His partner was great to work with on the investigation, but a thorn in his side when it came to romancing Cassidy. There had been no chance to spend time with her alone. Of course, he hadn’t given Ronan the chance, either, so they were on even ground.
And Diego had to take some comfort in convincing Cassidy to ride in the backseat with him on the way home from the party. She’d ridden with Ronan in the front on the way there, so it was only fair she would switch on the return leg. He didn’t care that he’d sounded needy in his request. He wanted to be as close to her, physically and emotionally, as he could. This might be a game to Ronan, but Diego was falling for Cassidy. What little time he’d managed to spend with her had proven to be more important than a casual fling. She mattered.
He glanced up and caught Ronan staring at them in the rear view mirror as they waited at a red light. The waves of hostility were palpable. Tough shit. Fair was fair, and besides, Cassidy had refused to hold hands with Diego when he’d tried as they drove off from the Malloy house. He supposed she didn’t want to fan the flames by giving him a right Ronan couldn’t enjoy. Understanding her motive didn’t make the smirk Ronan had given him through the damn mirror any easier to swallow.
This time on a Sunday night, it didn’t take long to go from working class Charlestown to upscale Back Bay. Ronan double parked in front of Cassidy’s brownstone and turned around to face them. Diego could see the question in the man’s face, so he beat him to the punch.
“Any chance we can come in for a cup of coffee?” he asked, twisting his body to face her.
Ronan glared at him. “Yeah, I could use some if you don’t mind.” His face broke out into a big smile that Diego had to admit was the epitome of charm itself. The fucker.
Cassidy’s eyes darted back and forth between them, eyes narrowed and wheels turning in her beautiful head. She didn’t look particularly happy about the idea. Finally, she sighed. “Okay, sure. Why don’t you turn at the next block and you can park in my garage.
“You have a garage?” Diego asked, his eyebrows raised.
“A two-car garage, yes,” Cassidy confirmed.
Diego whistled in appreciation as Ronan shifted the car back into gear. As little as he knew about Boston, Diego understood the fact that she had so much private parking in a location like this must have meant big bucks. His expectation was confirmed when they pulled into the tight space next to a sporty Mercedes.
As the three of them got out of Ronan’s car, Diego took a moment to admire Cassidy’s wheels. “This is beautiful. Do you get a chance to drive it much?”
“Not really. It’s mostly to make it easier to visit my parents and to go to our summer house in Maine.” As she said the words, she winced.
“You have a house in Maine?” Ronan asked as he, too, perused her impressive car.
“A family home,” she was quick to clarify. She seemed uncomfortable talking about her wealth. “In Kennebunkport.”
Diego knew less about Maine than he did Boston, but he remembered that the Bush family had a compound up there. Wow. Even though he could have easily spent the next hour drooling over her car, he didn’t like the idea of her being embarrassed or anything. “So, coffee?”
Cassidy rewarded his efforts with a slight smile that didn’t entirely reach her eyes. “Right. Come on in.”
She led them through a back entrance to her first floor and up to the kitchen level. He hadn’t had a chance to see this part of the house the two times he’d been there. Her bedroom had been his choice of destination. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Ronan appeared familiar with the room.
For a few seconds, he couldn’t control the images that popped up in his mind about what his partner and Cassidy might have been up to in this place of granite and steel. Jealousy, hot and strong, pumped through his nerves, a thing about himself he hated. There was more, though. Part of his reaction was simply the hotness of the idea. And that was disturbing on so many levels.
Cassidy looked perfect in the beautiful setting of her kitchen. She really was a classy woman and definitely out of his league and Ronan’s. Diego’s head told him as much, although his body didn’t care one bit. Even with the dampening presence of Ronan, Diego’s cock twitched in his pants as Cassidy bent over to pull something from under the island. Ronan’s watched her as well, a hunger in his eyes that had to match Diego’s. He wanted to slap his hand over Ronan’s face to stop him. It was a stupid, yet primitive impulse. A low sound passed his lips before he could stop it.
Cassidy popped back up. “Did you say something?”
Ronan shot him a smirk. “Yeah, Diego, did you say something?” His tone implied he knew exactly what had happened.
Clearing his throat, Diego lied smoothly. “Sorry, just a little cough. I have seasonal allergies.” Which was true if it had been spring and not the end of summer.
“Oh, well, I was thinking maybe you guys really would prefer wine to coffee given the lateness of the hour.” Cassidy held up a bottle of red.
“Sounds good.”
“Whatever you want.”
The two men talked over each and ended on a mutual glare. With a barely audible sigh, Cassidy opened a drawer and, pulling out a cork screw, opened the bottle with practiced ease. She reached up to take down three glasses from an overhead cupboard. Once again, their eyes followed her. The graceful way she moved was enchanting, and her skinny jeans hugged her sweet ass alluringly. She poured a half glass for each of them and slid them over the island.
“Why don’t we go sit in the living room?” She didn’t wait for them to reply, picking her own glass up and sashaying out of the room.
Diego and Ronan jostled for position, each trying to be right behind her. It was so juvenile that Diego almost laughed. Almost. The need to keep Ronan from taking Cassidy away from him overrode what little sense he had left. They panted after her like wolves stalking a female in heat. Diego’s cock strained against his jeans. He didn’t bother to worry about it showing, however. He figured Ronan was in a similar state, and as determined as Diego was to avoid seeing his partner’s hard-on, he figured Ronan must feel the same way.
Cassidy didn’t so much as glance over her shoulder. She must have understood how things were between her guests, though, because she chose to sit in a winged backed chair, leaving the other chair and the sofa free. Diego was tempted to take the second chair to be closer to her. He picked the sofa instead so that he could look at her full-on. Ronan must have had the same idea given that he elected to slide in next to Diego.
They spent the next couple of minutes sipping their wine in awkward silence. Diego wasn’t so sure alcohol was a good idea given his state of mind and body. He drank sparingly, his gaze fixed on Cassidy. She didn’t look happy. Slumped against the chair with her legs crossed, she stared pensively at the ground while she toyed with her drink. He wanted to say something, what he didn’t know. Out of the corner of his eye, Ronan’s mouth opened, then closed without a sound coming out.
Finally, Cassidy broke the silence. “I’m not cut out for this. I thought I was, but I’m not.” She looked up at them. “I like you both. I mean I
really
like you both. Do you understand?”
Diego and Ronan both nodded dumbly.
Cassidy’s chest rose on a deep breath she let out as another sigh, this one louder than the one in the kitchen. “I thought I could date both of you, sleep with both of you, and somehow it would be okay. It’s not. I look at the two of you, sitting there, and I can see you both want me. And I want you as well, both of you.”
Diego’s balls tightened on the confession, and while the inclusion of Ronan in the statement should have deflated his interest, it didn’t. His desire for this woman was too strong.
“You don’t have to choose,” Ronan interjected, a note of pleading in his tone. Apparently, he was smarter than Diego or had a large enough supply of blood so that his brain worked simultaneously with his cock. He’d jumped ahead in Cassidy’s speech.
“Wait, what are you trying to say…Cassidy?” Putting his glass on the coffee table between them, Diego leaned closer to see her eyes more clearly. He saw pain there, and his heart lurched.
“I’m saying I don’t know how to make this work. The two of you have spent the day vying for my attention. You’re sitting there quivering like dogs waiting for a treat. It’s not fair to either of you.”
Ronan put his drink down and shot to his feet. “Damn it, Nieves, this is your fault.”
Diego stood as well and faced off with Ronan. “Bullshit! Just because you asked her out? There’s no calling dibs on women, Callaghan, you said it yourself. This is the twenty-first century. If Cassidy hadn’t wanted to go out with me, she would have turned me down. It’s just a game to you, anyway. You don’t care for her, not really. It’s only a competition for you. Winning is what matters.”