A Steel Town (A Gateway to Love #3)

by Chloe Barlow

  “That’s Griffen again. He sounds worried,” Claudia whispered.

  “Yes. That ass. I guess we should get back.”

  “It sucks when people love you,” Claudia grumbled.

  “No shit.”

  “We better get moving. It only gets worse if you ignore them.”

  Trey nodded, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

  He allowed his traitorous hand to rest at her tiny waist for a moment before they moved toward the glimmering light awaiting them. After managing to sneak her back into the home without anyone becoming suspicious of he and Claudia’s almost tryst, Trey’s mind began to wander.

  Maybe he felt lost, but so did she, and that made him somehow eager to see if they could get found — together.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Claudia pushed her front door closed behind her with one foot. She almost lost her balance in the process, as she struggled to carry the stack of new files Trey had dumped unceremoniously onto her desk that morning.

  After mere moments of pleasantries about their lives, he’d brusquely instructed her to review all the materials, and then quickly left the FBI offices for the rest of the day.

  She still had yet to get the kiss she’d demanded from Trey the night before at Tea’s party, but from her review of the documents he’d given her, it was clear he’d finally started to entertain her theory that industrial espionage and greed could be the real motives they should be exploring in their investigation.

  This also meant she was now buried under piles of research on every Chinese company, which might have been behind the plan to steal robotics technology from Carnegie Mellon University, by way of the egomaniacal, yet witless David Murphy.

  After placing the stack carefully on the bench by her front door, she moved toward her alarm keypad, rubbing her sore eyes along the way. All tiredness left her body when she registered it had already been disarmed. A sound from the kitchen put Claudia on even higher alert. Reaching for her pistol, she eased her body along the wall, until she could peek quietly through the kitchen doorway.

  Claudia froze at the sight of Trey’s long legs on her kitchen floor, his body lying supine with his head and chest hidden underneath her sink. Her blood was flush with a combination of relief it wasn’t an intruder, and the usual all-encompassing thrill, which always managed to knock her silly whenever she was in Trey’s general vicinity. If a person truly could be a force of nature, then this guy was the whole San Andreas Fault.

  Even though his head was tucked away under her sink, his white tee shirt had ridden far up his torso, revealing much of his flesh. She would recognize his ripped stomach, with its intricate tattoos, anywhere. Despite never seeing it fully, occasionally he would lean over to grab something, pulling his shirt up just enough to turn Claudia’s brain into mush, while simultaneously adding to the image of his body, which she’d been burning into her memory.

  She indulged herself for a moment, gazing at his bare stomach and jean-clad legs for longer than was probably okay. His feet were bare and even they were making her body feel uncomfortably warm, as her mind filled with thoughts of other possible ways he might someday be in her house with no need for shoes.

  Claudia began to worry she might be frozen in place. Finally, she managed to squeeze out a few words.

  “Glad to see you made yourself at home.”

  She heard a loud “bonk,” as he hit his head on the underside of her kitchen sink. His hand slipped, pouring a burst of water over his torso. A few colorful expletives followed. Shaken from her surprise at his obvious breaking and entering, and her own lascivious staring, Claudia managed to gather her wits enough to throw the nearest towel directly on his crotch. The gray cotton rag gave her a helpful distraction from her obsession with his southern hemisphere.

  “Ouch. That sounded like it hurt. Are you all right? Do you have a concussion?” she asked quickly, crouching down to check on him.

  Trey eased out from under the sink, revealing the rest of his muscular, tattooed chest at a slow and unnerving pace. His shirt was soaked, rendering it almost transparent as it clung to his body with as much steadfast commitment as her fixated gaze.

  He moved one hand to rub his head, gifting her with a broad smile, which made her worry she might be the one who’d just had her bell rung.

  “Why does it seem like so many of my interactions with you, risk me ending up on my back, close to being injured?”

  The thought of him on the ground underneath her again sent a slew of confusing sensations through her brain at a frenzied speed.

  Forcing down her wayward thoughts, she answered, “Maybe because you’re always doing things that make you deserve a whack on the head? What are you up to under there anyway? I thought you just fix computers.”

  As he bent his knees to hoist himself to his feet, Trey stated, “I fix a lot of things… I break a lot of things, too.” Before Claudia could process his statement, he continued, “You mentioned this morning your kitchen sink was messed up, so I decided to swing by and take care of it.”

  “I appreciate you coming by to fix it. You know, if it were by invitation, I might not have been so surprised when I found you. How’d you get in here? What about my security system?”

  “That was nothing for me to get past. It barely slowed me down.”

  “Imagine that…”

  “Improving your souped-up alarm clock is next on my to-do list in here.”

  “Um, thanks, I think. But you didn’t answer my question. How did you get in here?”

  “Why ask me a question, when you may not like my answer to it?”

  “Humph,” she grunted. After a beat, she allowed the mischievous fun of the moment to override her common sense. Claudia added with a smirk, “So, you felt pretty confident I wanted you here invading my pipes?”

  “Another question you don’t want to hear my answer to,” he quipped, before peeling off his wet tee shirt so he could use the kitchen towel to dry off his chest.

  Claudia released an awkward laugh, hoping it would mask the sound of her nearly swallowing her own tongue at the sight of his half-nakedness. She leaned back against her kitchen table, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the nervousness tingling through her arms, “Fine. Be that way. So, did you learn how to be a plumber at Stanford?” she teased.

  “What?” he grumbled, his muscles visibly tensing. His brows furrowed and all the joy left his face.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just joking. I may have snooped into you a little. I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t like that. I was just being…”

  “Curious. I get it. I figured you would try to learn about me. I have met you, after all. I just don’t like to talk about Stanford.”

  “You don’t seem to like to talk about yourself, period.”

  “No. And I know you like to figure things out. I did say I’d be different with you. So, how about you get to ask me one question. I promise I’ll answer it.”

  Thousands of questions had been swirling through her brain since she’d met him. Yet, her mouth didn’t seem to work. All she could do was stare at his naked chest, transfixed by so much artwork and his pierced nipples — the way his skin was still shiny with the remnants of his unintentional shower.

  After her silence continued for an almost interminable amount of time, he looked down and smirked at her. The twist of his lips yanked her back into reality.

  “Did it hurt?” she finally asked, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

  “When I fell from heaven?”

  “No. All this stuff on your chest,” she said, waving her hand back and forth in the direction of his chest. “Did it hurt?”

  “Yes, but it was worth the pain. Come here,” he purred, before taking her hand and placing it gently against one of his pecs. His skin was damp and warm against her palm, and the cool pressure of his metal piercing caused something deep inside her stomach to clench and relax repeatedly. “Does it feel like it hurts now?”

  “It feels…”
Her mouth was dry and her throat spasmed in a way she couldn’t control. She peered down at her olive-toned hand as it rested against the tanned skin covering his heart. She could feel its beat beneath her quivering hand. Though his face was still, she sensed the pace of his pulse quicken the longer she touched him, and the knowledge made her hand quiver in response.

  Then something struck her, and she couldn’t hold the thought inside. Looking up into his sharp gray eyes, Claudia licked her lips and asked, “Why don’t you have a tattoo here, Trey? You have them all over your chest, but not here where your heart beats.”

  Trey’s face twisted slightly and he backed away from her. The sudden removal of his warm skin from her touch filled her with a chilling sense of loss.

  “I told you — just one question,” he stated so sternly it felt like she was being chastised for something.

  Trey turned away from her and reached for his shirt off her kitchen counter. Yet, her frustration with his repeated bullshit and her own abysmal inability to manage any moment she shared with him was impossible to deny. Before she knew it, Claudia grabbed him by the waistband of his jeans and spun him back around to face her.

  “I never agreed to you being an ass afterward.”

  Claudia didn’t know who she was more aggravated with — Trey for being so stubborn, or herself for always having such a knack at killing a mood. Other girls seemed to know how to get a guy’s attention, and hold it without saying something stupid, but Claudia just couldn’t help herself. Her mind always had to get in the way, and in this instance, her body was getting the losing end of the stick.

  “More conditions, little one?”

  “Yes. You’re not the only one who gets to lay down ground rules. You always want to boss me around…”

  “Oh, so it’s your turn now?”

  “Maybe it is.”

  “I happen to like bossing you around. Why do you think I should share all the fun?” he asked, a smirk playing on his face, making him completely unreadable to her. Claudia crossed her arms over her chest and huffed out a hard breath.

  “You’d better think about it, because you’re pissing me off. I don’t know what else to do to reason with you, or make you talk to me, unless you want me to go back to potentially wounding you.”

  “I don’t think that’s why you’re upset.”

  “Oh, you don’t? Because you know everything there is to know about the world?”

  “I didn’t say that. And that was another question. You’re going to owe me a lot if you keep trying to change all the rules.”

  “You’re in my house, you son of a bitch…”

  “Shh… I’m sorry. How about this…” Trey eased toward her, a sly grin creeping across his face.

  Before she could collect herself, Trey grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her onto her kitchen table, so her knees just barely grazed the sides of his denim-covered thighs.

  “Fine. I’ll answer your question about the bare spot over my heart, but you have to answer one for me. It’s been bothering me ever since I met you.”

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “Are you sure? You won’t like it, but you’ll still have to tell me the truth.”

  Trey’s fingers were slipping back and forth against her thighs, caressing her lightly.

  “What?” she sputtered out. “Of co-ourse. It’s a waste of time for me not to tell the truth. I suck at lying.”

  “Being bad at lying and being honest are two very different things.”

  “Fine. I promise to be honest,” she answered, her throat drying with each persistent press of his hands, punctuated by the gentle circular motion of his thumbs against her inner thighs.

  “Good. Then this will be an easy way for you to get what you want.”

  “Um, okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “That’s your question?”

  “Yes,” he answered, letting his hands squeeze the sides of her legs, hard, sending a new set of shocks and tingles along her nerve endings. “Last night you ordered me to deal with you. Well, then I deserve to know what I am dealing with.”

  She swallowed roughly, trying to use her prior irritation to pull herself back to reason.

  “It’s a ludicrous thing to ask. Plus, it’s such a dumb male thing to care about or think you have the right to know.”

  “Uh-uh, little one. You’re not answering my question. If you want to start making rules, then you have to be able to play by them, too.”

  “What do you think is the answer? I’m twenty-three…” she said, her breaths coming out in short puffs of air. Claudia pressed her palms on the table, trying to get up. Trey slammed his hands over hers and met her eyes with a blazing fury that made his gray irises look like swirling, melted steel.

  “You’re doing it again, Claudia. I’ve got all the time in the world, nowhere to be…and no desire to answer your question. If you want to back out so I don’t have to tell the truth, then so be it.”

  She moved her face to avoid his eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”

  Trey leaned in closer to her, using his nose against her cheek to force her face back toward his. He slid it across the length of her face, pausing to briefly brush his lips over her skin and suck on her earlobe, making her gasp out loud. When his teeth bit down on the flesh gently, Claudia couldn’t help but release an embarrassing moan.

  His warm breath tingled against her moistened skin, when he asked again, this time with a whisper, “Are…you…a…virgin?”

  “No,” she breathed out roughly.

  Trey moved so he was facing her, staring squarely in the eyes as he challenged her, “No — you’ve had mind-blowing sex that turned off that crazy, intense mind of yours and made you stop trying to control everything? Or you’ve had a dick in you?”

  “You-you dirty piece of —”

  “Eh, eh, eh. Answer the question.”

  “Fine. I had sex when I was twenty.” Trey’s hands clenched a bit over hers, but his stare didn’t waver from hers. When he stayed silent, she added, “He was my best friend. His name is Trevor. I felt it was important to get it out of the way and he was comfortable with my viewpoint, I guess. Are you happy now?” Claudia barely moved an inch, but Trey made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere until he let her.

  “Yup, just like I thought. For all intents and purposes, you’re a virgin, little one. And since we’re being honest with each other, I would like nothing more than to be your real first… It could be the only way I ever get you to listen to me.” Claudia swallowed a gasp until the air turned into an awkward bubble in her throat. The thrill in her chest dissipated quickly as Trey’s face fell, and he added, “The thing is, your answer confirms you’re a nice girl. The problem is — I’m not a nice boy. And that’s something we both have to deal with.”

  His words simultaneously frustrated and saddened her. She took a deep breath and muttered, “Your turn.”

  Trey leaned away from her, and rubbed the left side of his chest a bit, looking away from her.

  He turned his eyes back to hers. There was no wicked gleam in his eyes, or smirk to lighten the mood. All that remained was dejection, and something even darker — almost ominous, though she couldn’t quite place it.

  “I don’t have any tattoos there because I felt it was important to leave the area around my heart bare. It doesn’t deserve anything…it’s my weakest organ.” He moved away from her, but she didn’t stop him this time. With his back to her, he grabbed his damp shirt and pulled it on before declaring, “Get your laptop. I arranged for you to question David Murphy tomorrow.”

  Claudia opened her mouth to speak, eager to express just how excited the prospect of her first real suspect interview was, but Trey cleared his throat and cut her off before she could make a sound.

  “We’ve got a lot to do. I need to make sure you’re ready to meet with him…and that kitchen sink of yours is still fucked up.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “You read
y to do this?” Trey asked Claudia, as he turned off the rumbling engine of his black 1967 Ford Mustang Fastback. His hands were sore from reflexively gripping the steering wheel during the entire drive to the federal courthouse downtown where the FBI was detaining David Murphy in advance of his trial.

  “I can’t wait… You know I was born ready. The real question is whether you’re ready for me to go in there, Mr. White-Knuckler,” she responded lightly, though her rapidly drumming fingers belied her nerves.

  “Always such a smart-ass,” Trey grumbled out. The soft weight of her hand alighting onto his bicep made the muscle twitch, but it also calmed him slightly.

  “Seriously, Trey…are you okay? You seem kind of, um, tense.”

  He took a sharp intake of breath before turning to meet her intent and worried gaze. It touched him how even with her visible eagerness to take on this new challenge, she still stopped to express concern for him.

  “I’m cool. I just need you to appreciate how dangerous this guy is. I’ve interviewed him countless times and it’s never gotten anywhere.”

  “I’ve read the transcripts and it’s clear he likes to toy with you, but he does know something more than he’s letting on. I’d bet my MacBook on it. He’s smart, but he wasn’t smart enough not to be a patsy for the bastards behind all this.”

  “And you can’t wait to go in there and meet this patsy?”

  “Yes, absolutely. But I won’t leave this car until I know you’re not going to have a heart attack over all of this.”

  Trey let out a rough chuckle, pausing to enjoy her soft features and serious expression. The parking garage provided them an odd degree of privacy. In spite of all his continuing efforts to keep some semblance of distance from her, Trey yet again found he had to touch her…to connect with her.

  He slid his right hand around her neck, letting his fingers graze over the strands of her hair, stretched taut on the path up to the tight twist of her bun, while his thumb rubbed back and forth along the curve of her jaw.