Lip Locked in the Library

by McKenna Rogue

  Lip Locked in the Library

  Love Demands a Holiday

  McKenna Rogue

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Also by McKenna Rogue

  1

  ARCHER

  Six months as an informant for the Federal Bureau of Investigation left me with insomnia, working out a lot to deal with my anxiety, and a possible addiction to whiskey and over-the-counter sleeping aids.

  I burped as I headed across the parking lot toward the corner store—and acid reflux. I needed some antacids.

  Lucky’s Burlesque Lounge hired me eight months ago, and it only took a few weeks for them to run out of luck. The company was obviously laundering money, and barely hiding it.

  I put all the information I could together and gave it to the FBI. I wasn’t going down for helping someone cover up their illegal activities.

  It turned out Sergio Macchio was doing a lot more than money laundering.

  The FBI had a case file and were actively trying to take him down. They had only managed to get ahold of circumstantial evidence or witnesses who turned up dead. The last part had me worrying about my own neck. If Macchio found out I’d ratted, he’d kill me for sure. Macchio ran guns, trafficked drugs and people, ran a prostitution ring, and was one of the right-hand men to one of the biggest mafia bosses in New York. If they could take down Macchio, they might get him to squeal on bigger fish.

  I entered the convenience store and went directly to the back where the frozen burritos were. Every week I met my handler, Agent Anthony Brown, in a new location. He always showed up with instructions and usually some fancy spy gadget to hook up to a camera or Macchio’s computer. Agent Brown, or Ant, as I liked to call him, was already there, pretending to scope out the perfect beverage.

  His gaze flickered over to me, but he kept his head forward as if he were checking out the row of soda products. “How are you doing?” I knew Ant from high school. We’d both been Mathletes and gone into college together with similar goals. He had been recruited by the FBI, and I was a freelance accountant. I trusted him to take my concerns seriously. He ended up saddled babysitting me to make sure I didn’t ruin everything before they had their case.

  “Tell me this is all going to be over soon, Ant. I’m fraying at the edges,” I muttered.

  “Tonight, in fact, but we need you to make sure Sergio is going to be there. We don’t want to give him the opportunity to escape or all this would’ve been for nothing.”

  There was an end in sight. Of course, then came the endless court case and appeals, but after I testified, I’d be sent into WITSEC, or so I’d been promised. From my research, WITSEC was mostly full of criminals who’d turned on their crime syndicate. I didn’t feel so great to be included among those types, but I was trying to do the right thing. Right?

  “You good for one more hour?” Ant asked.

  “I can do one more.” I’d do ten more, if it meant getting out.

  Ant set something in the freezer next to the burritos in front of me. “This is an ear com. Put it in your ear when I leave, then I’ll be in your head until all this is over. You’re not going to be alone.”

  I still didn’t feel relieved.

  “Once the sting is over, we’ll take you out. Put you in a safehouse until we can slam the bars on Macchio for a long time. Then you’ll be sitting pretty, living a new life.”

  A new life—the words rang in my head, over and over. Like I’d made good use of the one I had already.

  I headed to Lucky’s. It was a short drive, and the place wasn’t quite open for business. I went inside, nodding at the bouncer and two of Sergio’s goons who were watching the talent.

  I made my way through the club, trying to get to the stairs that led to the offices above the bar. I kept my gaze low, avoiding eye-contact with any of the dancers warming up. Too many times, one of the girls had tried to encourage me to buy a lap dance or more. I was avoiding one woman in particular, who always made my heartburn worse.

  But as always, I caught Bonnie’s attention.

  “Oh, Archer, I didn’t know you were here!” Her voice cut through the club like an arrow, headed straight for me.

  Bonnie Macchio was the boss’s wife and the headliner at Lucky’s. She was pretty enough—in that plastic, over-Botoxed way that spoke to too much wealth and a distorted image of the world—and for some reason, she’d decided I liked her for more than just my paycheck.

  I turned and smiled at her, trying to remain professional. I knew Ant was in my ear, probably hearing everything. As she flounced over in nothing but a sparkly bra and matching pink thong, I eyed my escape up the stairs. Part of me considered, for the briefest of moments, warning her to leave the club while she had a chance. If she were here when the Feds busted in, she’d be arrested too.

  “Mrs. Macchio, I was just headed up to see Mr. Macchio.”

  “Oh, can’t you stay for at least one number? I’ve been working on some exciting things I think you’ll really want to see.” Bonnie leaned in close as she finished her sentence, pressing her chest against my arm, her big doe eyes and fake lashes batting at me.

  If I could’ve pulled away without offending my client’s wife, I would have. As it was, I fought the urge to cringe and gently shifted my messenger bag so it fell between us.

  “I really can’t.” I want away from you.

  “You never stick around to watch me dance, Archer.” Bonnie stuck her lower lip out and moaned her displeasure, a look made more comical by the amount of silicone in her lips. “Sergio won’t mind. I promise. One song.” She grabbed my hand and tugged, trying to pull me toward the stage.

  “Maybe some other night.” I slipped from her grip and smiled at her even as I took a couple steps backward. I couldn’t give her the hard no I wanted to. Bonnie was as much the boss here at Lucky’s as Sergio was in all his other businesses, and I didn’t need her deciding to have me fired over unreciprocated flirtations, let alone a flat-out rejection. Sergio didn’t seem the type to take it well if someone was watching his wife, no matter how much she begged for it.

  Even though my time was supposedly almost up as a double agent, I couldn’t trust something wouldn’t go wrong. I needed to hold my composure until I was truly safe. Not that I was sure I would ever be safe after this.

  Bonnie’s pout deepened, and she reached back like she was going to undo the clasp on her bra to tempt me further when one of the bouncers called her name.

  I took the distraction and made a quick exit before she could do anything else to try to get me to stay. I took the stairs two at a time up onto the office level.

  I found myself standing outside of Macchio’s office, knocking on the door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Macchio, it’s Archer.”

  There were some scuffling noises, then a girl popped out of the door, still pulling herself together. With the way her lipstick was smeared, no wonder Mrs. Macchio was making eyes at me.

  “Archer, come in, I have to talk to you about something.”

  Great. All I wanted was a quick hello and for the FBI to swoop in and save the day. Macchio was a thug, and the list of crimes attached to his name made me uncomfortable being alone in a room with him. Or maybe it was the Fe
ds moving in around the joint as we spoke.

  Macchio pulled out a gun and set it on the desk. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen him with one, but my heart rate shot through the roof. Fuck. He knew and was going to blow me away before the FBI could end this.

  “Archer, I need you to be honest with me.”

  “Hard to lie to a man with a gun,” I said.

  Ant’s voice crackled into my ear. “He pulled a gun on you?”

  “True,” Macchio chuckled. “But this isn’t for you. I have a couple of business partners coming by later.”

  I heard Ant’s sigh of relief.

  I managed a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “You’ve been working around here for a while now. You’ve seen the lay of the land. You’re a good man. I can tell.” He leaned forward. “Do you think I’m losing my wife?”

  “Excuse me?” A number of expletives charged through my head.

  “I know she talks to you. Do you think she’s wandering?”

  I jabbed my thumb in the air toward the door. “Didn’t Mandi just leave here looking a little… flushed?”

  Macchio sighed. “Mandi’s a good girl. She was crying over her boyfriend breaking up with her. I’m no scoundrel. I don’t cheat on my wife.”

  I kept my eye rolls to myself. I had no idea if he was telling the truth, and it wasn’t my business. Frankly, I just wanted out of this whole mess.

  “Why do you think she’s cheating on you?”

  He leaned in and lowered her voice. “She ain’t interested in the bedroom anymore. I’ve been trying to encourage us trying some new stuff, but she ain’t havin’ it.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Macchio, that must be hard.”

  “We’re like family. It’s Sergio.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He waved my professionalism off. “I like you, Archer. Maybe you would invite your girl out for a double date with me and the missus.”

  I shook my head. “Sorry, sir. I’m not dating anyone at the moment.”

  “A good-looking man like you? Why not?”

  “Just haven’t found the right girl.”

  “You need a brain to go with looks, don’t you? Probably hard to find, especially around here.”

  “Don’t underestimate your dancers. They’re pretty smart. They handle themselves quite well. Dolly is a real financial planner. And Rachel is quick as a whip.”

  Sergio laughed and pointed at me. “I knew you were good with the women. That’s why I wanted to ask you about Bonnie.”

  “If you want my honest opinion, you should call her on her behavior. Tell her how it makes you feel. Then grab her and kiss her like it was your first kiss. She’ll love it.”

  Sergio nodded eagerly. I almost expected him to start taking notes.

  There were times it was hard to picture Sergio as some thug doing business for an even bigger thug. But it wasn’t my job to judge.

  Ant’s voice buzzed in my ear.

  “Excuse yourself and head to your office. Stay there, no matter what you hear. You’ll be arrested, but we’ll get you taken care of once we get everyone in custody.” Ant paused. “Cough if you understand me.”

  I coughed and stood up.

  “I should get to work, Mr. Macchio.”

  “Sure, sure. Make sure you get something from the kitchen.”

  I nodded and made my way into the office. Sitting down, I just stared at my blank desktop monitor screen. It wasn’t long before the sound of doors being busted in and men yelling filled the room. There were a few gunshots and women screaming. Someone busted into my office and arrested me as promised. I was hauled into a black SUV and remained there, watching the chaos of the night unfold as people were brought out of the club, one-by-one. I caught sight of Sergio and Bonnie. Sergio was crying, and Bonnie’s eyes were tracing the crowd like she was looking for someone.

  Eventually, Ant got into the SUV, and we headed out.

  The safehouse became my new home for the better part of four months.

  Macchio didn’t make a deal.

  I testified, and he went to prison.

  The day after, I was carted to an airport in a black SUV. Ant met me there with a couple of suitcases, a new ID, a new job, and a new life as promised.

  “Librarian?”

  “Hey, hey, don’t say anything more.” He pushed the file closed. “You can switch jobs, but no more numbers. You should stick with reading books. Who doesn’t love a good book?” Ant clapped his hand on my back. “I know none of this wasn’t easy, but you did a good thing. You’ve helped your government and country more than you can ever know.”

  “I just want to get some sleep.” I glanced at the plane, then back at him. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s for your safety. You’ll have a new handler. Safer that way. I don’t even know where you’re going.”

  “Thank you, Ant. It was easier doing this, knowing you had my back.”

  “Any time, brother.”

  We hugged and shook hands. My escort helped me load my bags into the plane, then just like that, Archer Janson was a ghost.

  2

  VERONICA

  Two months later…

  Why did men always think the skeezy motels were the way to hide a mistress?

  Sure, there was less of a paper trail, but the parking lot facing room doors always gave the best money shots—and I had no doubt this one would be steamy.

  I’d been following my mark for a few hours, but dinner over candlelight didn’t necessarily mean my client’s fiancé was putting his dick where he shouldn’t. Even the handholding, the close, whispered conversations, and the hair brushed behind an ear didn’t amount to sex. Still, I had a memory card filling up quick with pictures, just waiting for the big reveal. As I waited for the couple behind door number thirty-three to finish up with their late-night activities, I sent off a text to my best friend, Jared Pierce.

  The billionaire had a head for business unlike any I’d ever seen, but he also had a penchant for letting his heart get broken about four times a year. I knew he was currently drowning his wounded heart in scotch, and I didn’t want him to think he was entirely alone. Maybe a couple ride-alongs with his favorite P.I. would’ve straightened out his feelings on love.

  Without waiting for a reply, I turned my focus back to the room door. My telephoto lens could make out the shadows behind the curtains, and I snapped a few pictures of the silhouettes, but it still wasn’t enough to get me out of this hot parking lot.

  Even though cases like this were my bread and butter as a Private Investigator in Chicago, it still drove me nuts how many people were surprised to learn their spouses or betrotheds were cheaters. The world was full of liars, people who wanted to have their cake and eat it too. It didn’t matter if I was hired by men or women, gay, straight, or something in between—with all the things I’d seen, I doubted anyone was cut out for monogamy.

  Still, I wasn’t above the paycheck.

  Dark shadows moved in front of the curtains again, and not long after, the door opened.

  I zoomed in with my camera lens, internally shaking my head at their stupidity. They could’ve at least tried to make me earn my paycheck. But no, there they were, kissing goodnight out in the open, for anyone to see. Hell, the other man didn’t even have a shirt on yet.

  I got my money shots, including one where the fiancé in question ran his hand over his lover’s barely concealed cock, then stowed my camera back in its bag.

  Once my mark left the parking lot and his lover was tucked away in the motel room again, I drove back to my office. I didn’t need to download the photos right away, but the office was closer than my one-bedroom apartment. Not to mention, the couch was more comfortable than my bed, and at least at the office, I knew there would be coffee in the morning.

  As I drove over, I called Jared.

  “Hey, Veronica.” His voice sounded almost exaggeratingly sad. I wished I was on the right side of
Chicago, so I could shake some sense into him.

  “Please tell me you’re not drowning your sorrows over what’s-her-face in good scotch right now.” I swerved to avoid a slow-moving car and continued, “She wasn’t worth my best friend’s time, to begin with. She definitely doesn’t deserve the good stuff.”

  “What am I doing wrong, V?”

  I had plenty of things I could’ve said to answer that question, but he wasn’t in a place to hear any of them. He’d already had his heart broken; he didn’t need his best friend shitting on him too.

  “Have you considered the fact it might be your ugly mug?”

  A feeble chuckle came through the phone. “The Trib would disagree. Or did you not see the piece they just did?”

  “How could I have missed it?” I rolled my eyes. The man hardly needed a newspaper article decreeing him one of Chicago’s most eligible (and sexiest) bachelors. “Maybe you should email it to me again?” I pulled into the underground garage at my office building and parked my car in my usual spot. “If that’s what you’re using to get dates, maybe that’s why they always end up being in it for your money and your body.” So much for keeping my snarky comments to myself.

  “I can’t help that most women find me irresistible. Clearly, you’re broken.”

  “More like immune to your charms.” I shut off my car. “You going to survive to the weekend? Or do I need to shuffle some things around to be on Jared Pierce suicide watch until you get through this breakup?”

  “I’ll live.” His tone dropped again.

  I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, trying to decide if I needed to hightail it over to his penthouse apartment or if he really would be okay.