Jack of Hearts (Aces & Eights Book 1)

by Sandra Owens

  Madison groaned, wishing Lauren didn’t know her so well. “Can we talk about something else? Like how much we still have to do today if we’re going to open tomorrow?”

  Madison and Lauren had met in college when they’d joined the same book club and had hit it off immediately. When they’d discovered each dreamed of opening a bookstore, they had teamed up, pooling their resources. High Tea and Black Cat Books was scheduled to open tomorrow. They’d agreed on a soft opening, planning a grand splash for a month later. Madison loved that when she’d suggested adding tea, coffee, and baked goods, along with selling books, her friend had jumped on board with the idea.

  Lauren had come up with the name, and they’d scouted the no-kill shelters for the perfect black cat. Hemingway, the one they’d come home with, was—unlike every other cat in the world—not a morning person. At the moment, he was sound asleep flat on his back, legs splayed, in the middle of the kitchen floor. They didn’t try to be quiet around him because nothing woke him until he was ready to be woken.

  On a rainy afternoon they had found the shop, the last place on their list for that day. Discouraged by what they had seen so far, they had almost blown it off. Every place they’d looked at either had needed so much work that it would take a fortune to make it a bookstore, or was so expensive that it was out of their league.

  Then they had walked through the door of a former coffee-slash-souvenir shop, and had said at the same time, “This is it.” The place had been perfect. The previous owners had set it up to sell coffee, with tables spread around for those wanting to hang while they had their morning fix. In the other half of the space, they had sold souvenirs. Cheap Miami Beach ones, based on the left-behinds Madison discovered when she’d found a box of rubber dolphins and mermaid lamps tucked away in the crawl space under the stairs.

  The best part, though, was a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment above the shop where they could live. Next best, it was a little under their max budget. They had spent the previous five weeks painting, retrieving boxes of books from storage, and setting up their upstairs living space.

  Lauren went to the sink and rinsed her coffee cup. “Yeah, I guess we better get to it. I peeked downstairs when I got up, and the book fairies didn’t get a thing done while we were sleeping.” She leaned back against the counter. “You do know, one way or another, I’m going to find out who you’re sighing over.”

  Madison didn’t doubt she’d try. When Lauren Montgomery made up her mind, get out of her way. But Alex was Madison’s secret, one she had no intention of sharing. Hemingway chose that moment to blink open his silvery-blue eyes. He stuck one front paw in the air in a halfhearted stretch as he yawned.

  “I’ll feed him,” she said. “Go get started, and I’ll be down in a minute.” It would give her a little time to get her wayward mind back on track, purge it of a black-haired, black-eyed best dream kisser in the world.

  Lauren gave Hemingway the stink eye. “I told you at the shelter that there was something wonky about that cat. But nooo, you just had to pick this one.”

  Alone with Hemingway, Madison mixed some tuna into the dried cat food. “Here you go,” she said, setting the bowl on the floor. “Just the way you like it.”

  Hemingway was such a silly cat, and she couldn’t help but smile. She never tired of watching him eat. He dropped his belly to the floor, spread out all four legs, and buried his face in the food, making a weird humming noise as he ate.

  “You’re the laziest cat in the world,” she told him. As always, he fell asleep halfway through eating, his neck arched over the bowl, his chin resting atop his meal. He would awaken after twenty or thirty minutes, finish eating, then saunter downstairs. His favorite napping place was in the front window, where they had set up a little bed for him, one that was surrounded by a charming display of books, which Lauren had arranged.

  “She loves you, you know,” Madison told the cat. She just refused to admit it.

  Hemingway snored on, not caring who liked him or didn’t. Madison smiled, giving him a loving stroke down his back before heading downstairs to join her bookstore partner. Satisfied that she’d banished the Dream Kisser, she worked alongside Lauren, getting High Tea and Black Cat Books ready to open. Her nerves hummed with excitement. They’d done it. They had made their dream come true. Who cared if a man with smoldering black eyes never kissed her?

  Later that afternoon, Madison stood next to Lauren, their arms linked, as they surveyed their shop. The tall ceiling and the crown moldings, original to the old building, were just plain awesome. The cashier’s counter—the front painted by an artist friend of Lauren’s to look like shelves of old books—was the coolest thing Madison had ever seen. She especially loved the display of art deco books they’d set up near the cash register, and she was certain they would sell well to tourists wanting to take home a souvenir that would remind them of South Beach.

  The real wood bookshelves they’d splurged on, the groupings of comfortable seating spread around, the rich aroma of coffee filling the air . . . Madison loved all of it. South Beach was famous for its art deco buildings, and the front of theirs was painted in the pastels popular in the 1930s when their store was originally built as a hotel. It had since been divided into four shops, and she’d pinched herself many times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

  Elation buzzed through her veins, and she couldn’t wait until they opened the doors for the first time so she could watch the expressions on their customers’ faces as they got their first look inside High Tea and Black Cat Books.

  Although she would love to sit and admire what they had accomplished, she had just enough time to shower and dress before meeting her cousin. Ramon hadn’t always been a creep, but the boy she’d once liked before he’d grabbed her breasts at her fifteenth birthday party had grown into a man she could barely tolerate. If not for her mother, she would have cut all ties with her uncle’s family.

  Then there was Uncle Jose’s loan, which Madison regretted taking the first time Ramon had hinted that she now owed him a favor. What that favor was, she didn’t know, but having it hanging over her head made her physically ill whenever she thought about it, so she tried not to. If she hadn’t already invested the money in the bookstore, she would have given it back. She should have found another way to come up with her share instead of accepting anything that would tie her to her uncle and cousin.

  Already, Ramon was using the threat of closing down the bookstore whenever she balked at being at his beck and call. If it weren’t for Lauren, she would say the hell with it and let him. Probably. The thought of losing what she and Lauren had created made her want to find a paper bag and breathe into it. Why did Ramon have to be such a jerk?

  It was tempting to put on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt since she knew that would annoy her cousin, but Alex would be there, and she couldn’t bring herself to show up looking like a slob. As she flipped through the clothes in her closet, she spied a white dress with splashes of color, as if a mad artist had taken a paintbrush and gone wild. She’d seen the dress in a store window a few weeks before and had to have it.

  Madison loved color, something she recognized as a bit of rebellion against her mother trying to dress her in bland colors as a child because of her red hair. As an adult, Madison refused to own anything beige, black, or white. After a shower, she slipped on the dress, loving how the full skirt swirled around her knees. The bodice wasn’t low-cut, which was a plus because Ramon wouldn’t be staring at her boobs all night. For shoes, she chose a pair of strappy red sandals with low heels.

  After one last check in the mirror, she decided she’d do, and hoped Alex’s date didn’t make her wish she’d opted for something sexier.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alex opened the door of the taxi, and when Taylor Collins stepped out, he gave a low whistle, while patting his chest. “Be still my heart.” The black dress clung to her in all the right places, and the do-me black heels drew his eyes right to her long leg
s.

  The tall blonde leaned back and eyed him from head to toe. “You clean up nice yourself, Alex. I’m trying to remember if I’ve seen you in anything but black leathers.” She tapped a finger against red-glossed lips. “There was that one time at Rand’s bachelor party. If memory serves right, you ended the night wearing a grass skirt and nothing else.”

  “Now, now, Taylor. You promised never to mention that.” The only female in their field office, she had somehow managed to get them to think of her as just one of the guys. She had certainly been the only woman at the party and had been as rowdy as the rest of them. On the job, though, she was all business and sharp as a tack. If he had to pick someone to back him up in a dangerous situation, other than his brothers, she would be high on his list.

  She laughed. “I lied.”

  “Of course you did. Nate said he briefed you about tonight. Any questions?”

  “Only one. Do you want me to pay more attention to you or to our bad guy?”

  It was a good question, and one he hadn’t considered. “We’ll play it by ear. Ramon will be with his cousin, and he has an unnatural attraction to her.” He held open the door, following her into the Flamingo Bar. “We’re headed up to the rooftop,” he told the hostess.

  “Does she return these unnatural tendencies?” Taylor asked when they entered the elevator.

  “No. I don’t know the family’s dynamics other than her mother and Ramon’s father are twins. From what I’ve gathered, Madison’s mother puts pressure on Madison to spend time with her cousin. I think there’s more to it, but what that is, I don’t know.” Yet. But he was sure going to find out.

  “So if he gets too familiar with her . . . that’s disgusting by the way, maybe I should try to divert his attention?”

  “I think she would appreciate that.” The assessing look Taylor gave him made him uncomfortable, but he kept his face blank.

  When they reached the rooftop, he scanned the area and, locating Ramon and Madison, he said, “There’s our target, along the rail, third table from the left.”

  “Good-looking man.”

  “And he knows it. If he makes you feel at all uncomfortable, kick me under the table, and I’ll knock out one or two of his teeth. Won’t be so good-looking then.” Ever since he’d pulled Ramon off Madison, he’d been itching to rearrange the man’s face.

  She slipped her hand around his arm as they approached the table. “Tell me this isn’t personal for you, Alex,” she said quietly.

  He’d said too much. “No, just can’t abide a man going where he’s not welcome, that’s all. Let’s walk by them first, see if he’ll call us over. Make him think it’s his idea we join them.” He turned his attention on her as they passed. “Laugh at something I said.”

  She laughed as she leaned her head toward him, her cheek brushing his shoulder. “You’re such a funny man, Alex. You know what they say, a hot guy who can make a girl laugh is a deadly combination.”

  Her words were spoken softly so that only he could hear, and to an observer, it would appear as if they couldn’t take their eyes off each other. That there was no sexual chemistry between them, he found interesting. Actually, he’d not picked up on any of his fellow FBI cohorts thinking of her as anything but one of the team.

  She was a woman who turned the heads of every male she walked by, though, and he didn’t miss the envious looks directed his way. If she had a steady man in her life, no one knew, although being the gossipy men they were, they’d often speculated about her private life.

  Just when he thought they were going to have to pretend to notice Ramon and Madison, he heard his name called. “Showtime,” he whispered. He put an arm around Taylor and led her to the table. “Ramon, dude, didn’t know you were back in town.”

  Ramon stood, his eyes on Taylor’s chest. “Just got back today. Have a seat and catch me up on what I’ve been missing.”

  The bastard pulled out the seat next to him, clearly wanting Taylor close to him. Alex let go of her and sat next to Madison. Her lemony scent was the first thing to hit him. It reminded him of the hot summer days when his mother would bring him an ice-cold glass of lemonade to make the chores his father had assigned him tolerable. He hadn’t thought of those times until recently, when he was close enough to Madison to catch her scent.

  Shaking off the direction his thoughts had veered, he said, “Ramon, you devil, you try to steal my date, we’re gonna have words.” As expected, Ramon’s eyes lit with pleasure that he’d been challenged. The fool. If anyone could best Ramon at his own game, it was Taylor.

  “Introduce us,” Ramon said, his head bent, giving him a better view of the cleavage showing above the low cut of Taylor’s dress.

  Alex would have killed him then and there if he’d leered at Madison like that. You gotta stop thinking of Madison as yours, dude.

  “Ramon, this is Taylor. Taylor, my friend Ramon Alonzo.” He nodded at Madison. “This is Madison Parker, Ramon’s cousin.” He’d intentionally left off Taylor’s last name. If asked, they would tell Ramon it was Crawford, an alias already set up if anyone was curious enough to check.

  Ramon, being the ass that he was, slipped his hand under Taylor’s and brought her fingers to his lips. While Ramon’s attention was on Alex’s partner, Alex slanted his head and gave Madison an eye roll. She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Had Ramon already acted inappropriately with her?

  Their waiter arrived to take their drink orders. “I always forget what I like,” Taylor said, giggling. “It’s pink and fuzzy, and it tickles my nose.”

  Madison muttered something under her breath, and Alex leaned toward her. “Pardon?”

  She gave a little shake of her head. “I’ll have a glass of Merlot, whatever your house brand is,” she said to the waiter, as Ramon attempted to help Taylor figure out what kind of drink she wanted.

  “My date,” Alex nodded toward Taylor, “wants a Magic Fuzzy Pink.”

  “That’s it!” Taylor exclaimed, giving Alex a brilliant smile as if he were a genius.

  “I was just going to suggest that,” Ramon said.

  Alex winked at Taylor, and her smile grew brighter. The woman should be on the stage. She had Ramon thoroughly convinced that although she was gorgeous, her elevator didn’t reach the top floor. His favorite kind of woman.

  “I need to find the restroom,” Madison said, pushing away from the table.

  As Alex watched her walk away, the first thing that came to mind was how fresh and pretty she looked in her colorful dress. The second was how much he wanted to see her long red hair spread out over her pillow, and her cat-green eyes darkened with desire while he was deep inside her. News flash, Alex. Not gonna happen. Yeah, he had to stop forgetting that.

  He didn’t like the dull look in her eyes, though. Reaching his hand under the table, he slipped out his phone and made it buzz. “I gotta take this,” he said. Ramon waved him off, and Alex slipped out of his seat, making his way to the women’s bathroom. He leaned against the wall outside the door and waited for Madison to appear.

  Madison ran a brush through her hair and then freshened her lipstick. “It tickles my nose,” she muttered, mimicking Taylor’s giggle. There was no denying the woman was gorgeous, but she didn’t have the brains God gave a cabbage.

  How disappointing that Alex would go for someone like that. In the few conversations she’d had with him, he’d seemed intelligent, like a man who enjoyed lively conversation. They had even talked about the books they liked when he’d learned of High Tea and Black Cat Books.

  She supposed she couldn’t hide in the bathroom the rest of the night, but she so did not want to sit at that table and watch him wink and smile at his date for the next few hours. Maybe she could plead a headache and leave the two men to battle over the bimbo’s attentions, since they both seemed to be enchanted by her.

  “Blah.” She made a face in the mirror. Actually, Alex had done her a favor by showing her how shallow he was. As of now, she was over
him. She would go back, finish her wine, and then make her excuses. After snapping her purse shut, she washed and dried her hands, holding on to the paper towel to open the door. She gave the management a nod of approval for placing a trash can at the exit.

  “I was beginning to think you’d climbed out the window and gone home.”

  Madison came to a stop in front of the man casually leaning against the wall. The one making her heart stutter at the sight of him. Okay, so apparently she had to work on the getting-over-him part. She’d get right on that as soon as she could tear her gaze away, because hello, the man was serious eye candy, whether wearing black biker leathers or dressed in a pale gray silk shirt and dark gray pants. His black hair curled over his collar, and she had to mentally order her hand not to reach up and comb her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked. Get a grip, Mad. You’re over him. You said so just minutes ago.

  “Madison?” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Did Ramon say or do something before I got here?”

  “No. Why?” She barely refrained from leaning into his touch. And the scent of him? She wanted to rub her nose over his skin and breathe him in. When she was finally back home and alone in her room, she was going to give herself a stern talking-to about avoiding bad boys for the rest of her freaking life.

  “I dunno. You don’t seem yourself.”

  No shit, Sherlock. She might be herself sometime next week, when hopefully— please, God—she couldn’t recall his scent or how it felt to have him touch her. A scolding was definitely in order. The man likes his women dumb and beautiful, so beat that fact into your brain, Madison.

  “I’m fine,” she said, then, needing to get away from him before she told him how stupid he was for not appreciating a woman with a brain in her head, headed back to their table. She’d hoped to leave him behind, but no such luck. With his long legs, he easily kept up, staying by her side.

  “Madison,” he said, putting his hand under her elbow and stopping her.