Smitten

by Lacey Weatherford

  I clenched my jaw, not caring for this scenario at all. It was one thing to go undercover, another to completely abandon my life to do it. I didn’t say anything.

  “Officer Napier, we have plans for you too,” he continued, looking at Chris. “We’re going to establish you as Dylan’s older foster brother who has a drug problem and issues with holding down a job. You’ll have a house in the general vicinity—it’s not going to be very pretty, I’m warning you. It’s far enough away to be out of Ripper’s social circle, but close enough for you to go back and forth. As far as your alias, you’ll be keeping your first name, but you’ll use the last name of Myers.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Chris said sarcastically.

  “Well, it’ll be better for you than him,” the Chief responded, nodding toward me. “You’ll be able to check out often. He won’t.”

  “How long is this supposed to last?” I asked, wishing I could take something for my impending headache.

  “As long as it takes. We need to bring this guy down.”

  “Can I at least go home and tell my girlfriend what’s going on?”

  He shook his head. “No, we need to finish filling you in on all the particulars. We’ve got to make new identification, get you set up with the appropriate clothes, and into a new car.”

  “A new car?”

  “Another Camaro actually—one that was seized in a drug raid. We’ve changed the plates and registered it under a new name, but that’s when Johnson was working the case. He was using the name Gage Jackson.”

  “Has this Roberta chick given that alias out to anyone yet?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Can you find out? Because if she hasn’t, I prefer using Hunter Wilder as my alias. It took me forever to get used to answering to it before. I’m comfortable with that name, and there shouldn’t be any issue using it again here in Arizona.”

  “I’ll look into it and see what we can find out before you leave tonight.”

  “Great.” I patted my pockets feeling for my phone before realizing I’d left it charging in the Camaro. “Hey Chris, can I borrow your phone?”

  He reached into his pocket and tossed it to me.

  “We need you now, Wilder. No time for phone calls. Make it fast.” Chief eyed me sternly.

  I stared at the phone, hating the need to rush. I quickly decided on a new plan, dialed a different number, and waited for an answer.

  “Hey Russ,” I spoke when he answered. “I got a favor I need you to do.”

  I pulled into the parking lot of the club called Racers and got out—being sure to arm the alarm system. I paused to admire the vehicle in the dim lighting of the parking lot—cherry red with a black hood, spoiler, side skirts, and rims. Short, black, double racing stripes ran from the hood to the front tire well. The souped-up engine purred like a kitten and raced like a dream. I’d long been a fan of Camaros, but I was in love with this car already. I glanced around casually as I walked toward the building, knowing I was in the land of car thieves. I truly hoped no one would steal it before I got to enjoy it.

  My transformation had been completed at the police station. I’d been given the phone Johnson had been using. My name, Hunter Wilder, had been programmed into it after my contact, Roberta, confirmed she hadn’t given the name of Gage to anyone yet. I wore black lace-up work boots, covered by baggie tattered jeans, a belt cinched low on my hips so the top of my underwear showed if I lifted my shirt, as was the current fashion. A white wife-beater tank covered by an open black-and-gray plaid shirt with the short sleeves rolled a little to accentuate my biceps, completed the ensemble.

  My left ear still throbbed a bit from the new piercing, and I now sported a small diamond stud. I wasn’t too thrilled about that, but apparently, it was a detail Johnson had arranged with Roberta, so I had to comply. I grumbled internally. I sure hope the department appreciated all the crap I had to go through for them.

  I flashed my new ID at the big, burly bouncer who stood by the door. He was a scruffy looking tough guy, a combination of muscles and extra weight. I sized him up; figuring he could probably bulldoze me over in a heartbeat. He scrutinized my license carefully before looking back at me. “You new around here?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Moved here a few weeks ago,” I said, falling back on my fabricated life story, which had been drilled into me for the last several hours.

  “Well, keep it clean. We don’t want no troublemakers.” He handed me the card back.

  “Not planning on making any trouble—just looking for a hot woman, that’s all.” I flashed a knowing grin at him.

  He didn’t smile. “You’ll find plenty of those in there,” he said blandly, as if he were completely uninterested. It seemed he took his job very seriously. Good to know. The thumping music grew louder as he opened the door, allowing me to enter.

  It took a second for me to quickly scan the layout of the place. The room was large and dark, lit mostly by the neon accents on the walls around the dance floor depicting racecars, checkered flags, and other racing paraphernalia. Tables and u-shaped booths lined three of the walls, and the bar—which ran almost the entire length of the back wall—was a glowing, white surface with neon racing stripes along the side.

  The place looked pretty packed. Evidently they had a menu too, because there were several waitresses running around in different colors of extremely tight, low-cut jumpsuits, serving food and drinks to people.

  I scanned the bar area looking for my contact, Roberta. I’d been told she’d be wearing jeans with a bright-pink top and would have her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. I spotted her instantly, and was surprised no one had prepared me for how beautiful she was.

  She was sitting on a barstool, leaning back with her elbows on the bar as she faced the door. Observing her staring at me with a very pleased, appraising expression on her face—much like I was probably doing to her—I realized Cami would pitch a fit if she saw me with this girl. She wouldn’t like it at all, not that I liked it either.

  This girl was a player, that much was evident from her trendy heels, super tight jeans, and handkerchief-style shirt—its triangle covering the bare necessities in front. She turned and set her drink on the counter, briefly exposing her bare back with a couple crisscrossing ties before turning toward me. Her giant silver hoop earrings caught the light as she flipped the end of her long, sleek ponytail over her shoulder.

  Her figure was smoking, and her face was gorgeous—big dark eyes, straight pretty nose, and full pouty lips. She wore a lot more makeup than Cami, but it was tasteful enough and highlighted her features well.

  I smiled as I would if I were seeing someone I already knew, and she returned the gesture, adding a flirty wave of her fingers. I sauntered across the room toward her, feeling sick about the role I knew I had to play. Cami was supposed to be the girl wrapped in my arms tonight. Now I didn’t even know when I’d see her again. Hopefully, this case would end quickly.

  “Hey, baby. You’re looking pretty hot,” I said as I sidled up beside her, leaned in, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  The girl next to her turned and stared at me, her mouth open in awe. “Is this the guy you’ve been keeping under wraps, Roberta?” she asked, barely blinking as her gaze wandered over me.

  “This is him. Hunter Wilder, meet my friend, Cherise.” Roberta smiled and slid her arms possessively around my waist, and I slipped mine loosely around her shoulders.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said with a polite nod in the direction of her cute blonde friend.

  “No wonder you’ve been hiding him! Shoot, I’d never get out of bed if I were dating him! Why are you even here?”

  Wow, this girl was forward.

  Roberta laughed casually. “You rarely get out of bed anyway.” Even her voice was sexy. I bet she had guys constantly clamoring all over her. I loved the way she’d managed to turn the conversation back around on her friend.

  Cherise shrugged and looked at me hungrily. “What ca
n I say? I like sleeping in after work . . . and other things.”

  “Let’s dance,” Roberta said, reaching for my hand. She dragged me out to the crowded floor. I shot Cherise a grin and followed dutifully after Roberta. Her heels made her significantly taller, but still she was a couple inches shorter than my shoulder.

  When she reached a spot big enough for us, she faced me, stepping so close I could feel the heat from our bodies mingling together. She popped up on her tiptoes and spoke in my ear.

  “Nice to meet you. Thanks for your help.”

  I briefly glanced around to see if anyone was looking at us. I wrapped my arm around her, dragging her the rest of the way against me. “Nice to meet you too. Sorry about the switch-up tonight. Johnson had an emergency.”

  “So I heard. It all worked out okay, though. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  She slipped her arms loosely around my neck, and we began swaying back and forth even though the music was fast, and the heavy beat made the floor vibrate beneath us. We looked like two people who were really into each other, and this made it much easier for us to talk.

  “Fill me in on what I need to know—starting with your real age. I have a hard time believing you’re twenty one.” I leaned back and arched an eyebrow at her.

  She gave me a wide innocent stare. “That’s what it says on my ID Would you like to see it?”

  “I know all about fake IDs and how easy they are to get.” I wasn’t falling for her routine.

  She sighed and gave me a slight grimace and a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would, wouldn’t you? I’m actually twenty.”

  I stared at her again, pursing my lips.

  “Okay, okay. I’m nineteen, but I’ll be twenty in four months, and that’s the truth.” She watched me closely, waiting for my reaction.

  “I believe you. The first thing you need to know is I have to be able to trust you. We both need to have each other’s backs in case things get dangerous. I don’t want any surprises thrown at me.”

  She glanced away before nodding. “All right, but the street goes both ways.”

  “I’ll tell you everything I’m able,” I replied seriously.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, looking a little put out.

  “It means that when it comes to information I get from the department, you’re on a ‘need-to-know’ basis. That’s all I can promise. I won’t compromise the investigation.”

  She pondered this for a moment before giving me a slight nod.

  “Who is this guy, Roberta? Is he bothering you?” A male voice broke in, and a pair of hands shoved of us apart.

  “Calm down, Ripper,” Roberta said, pushing him away and cuddling back up next to me. “I told you I was dating someone new and he was meeting me here tonight. He’s not bothering me.”

  Great, I was hoping Roberta would have a chance to fill me in on things better before I came face to face with this guy. I’d have to do my best winging it.

  “You looked upset,” Ripper said, glaring at me. He was a couple inches shorter than I was and leanly muscled, his dark hair shaved into a very short buzz cut. He wore a folded, gray bandana around his forehead, and a black t-shirt with skulls that ran from his stomach over his shoulder. I didn’t pay much attention to his baggy pants or shoes, deciding it was wiser to keep my eyes on him while I judged his aggression level.

  “She was mad because I told her she should change her top.” I glanced at Roberta appreciatively before turning back. “I mean I love it and all, but I don’t really like the way every guy in the place is ogling her.”

  Ripper’s attention was successfully diverted away from me to his sister. “Roberta, what the hell are you wearing? It looks like a damn napkin or something!”

  She looked extremely frustrated. “I keep telling you I’m not a little girl anymore. You have no say in what I wear.”

  Uh-oh. It seemed as if I’d managed to hit on an already touchy subject.

  Ripper stepped closer. “It is when you’re out flaunting the goods for anyone to see. You want to end up in some alley on your back? You’re gonna get labeled a slut by every guy in here.”

  I wasn’t sure if Ripper had any idea about how active his sister might be, but I certainly didn’t judge her as an innocent by any standard. She might only be nineteen, but it was obvious, even after a few short minutes, she was used to getting what she wanted when it came to men. I could already tell by the way she handled me.

  “Oh blow it out your ear!” she continued. “I’m sick and tired of the overprotective act. Now lay off. We both know you don’t give a damn about my reputation.”

  Ripper made a move to get even more in her face. I needed to diffuse the situation.

  “Hey, man. I got this.” I shrugged out of my plaid shirt and offered it to Roberta. “Why don’t you wear this?”

  Roberta glanced back and forth between Ripper and me. I could see the hesitation before she finally sighed. “Fine,” she spat, grabbing the shirt out of my hand. She headed toward the large hallway with a sign pointing to the restrooms.

  Ripper chuckled as he turned back toward me. “She’s saucy, isn’t she? You sure you want to date her?”

  I grinned. “I like ‘em with some fire.” I stuck my fist out. “Hunter Wilder.”

  Ripper stared at it for a moment before he reached out and bumped it. “Ripper Rivera. Thanks for looking out for my sister tonight, man. Sometimes I wonder what the hell she’s thinking.”

  I laughed. “If you figure that out, then clue me in. It might be helpful.”

  Ripper gave me a half smile. “You’re new around here?”

  “Yeah, I moved here with my foster brother a couple weeks ago. He supposedly has a lead on a new job. Maybe he’ll be able to keep this one too . . . if he can stop snorting everything he earns up his nose.”

  Ripper chuckled. “You’re not a fan of the powder, huh?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I like partying as much as the next guy, but I don’t think it needs to happen twenty four/seven like my brother does. I’d be hard-pressed to remember a time he wasn’t high. It gets a little old when he keeps crawling to me for money.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a mechanic. I like cars—building, restoring, or doing pretty much anything with them. My boss at my last place let me use his tools and stuff to soup up my Camaro. I’m still looking for a garage or something that’s hiring around here. I haven’t found one yet.”

  Ripper looked me over. “You like cars, huh? Come on. You can come hang at our table. I’ll introduce you to Seth and Nick. Then maybe you can take us out and show us this car of yours.”

  I tried not to grin as I followed after him. Hook, line, and sinker—I was in.

  Chapter Five

  Cami-

  My hair and makeup had been properly fixed and my clothes changed after dropping by my dorm on the way to Hunter’s. Call it vanity, but I wanted to look good for him when he arrived. I was looking forward to spending the evening cuddled in his arms.

  I’d let myself into his apartment and was surprised by what I found. There were fresh red rose petals scattered through the apartment, from the front door to the small dining table. More petals were scattered around several unlit candles of all shapes and sizes grouped together on the tablecloth. A silver tray held an ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling cider chilling inside, and two crystal wine glasses sitting next to it.

  I noticed a folded piece of paper on the table with my name on it. I picked it up, wondering if I should read it now or wait until he got home. My curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked at it, recognizing his handwriting immediately.

  “Cami, I love you more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for being part of my life. Hunter.”

  I smiled as I replaced the note and glanced around, noticing more candles on other surfaces around the living room. There were several movies laying out on the coffee table—all romantic comedies from the looks of it. I laughed to myself. He�
��d certainly pulled out all the stops. I loved that he’d gone through all this trouble to create a special evening for the two of us. He made me feel things I’d never felt before. Every time I’d glance up and see him staring at me, my stomach would do little flip-flops of excitement. I couldn’t believe he’d chosen me.

  Remembering the plastic bag I had in my hand, I made my way into the hall and opened the folding closet doors that hid the washer and dryer. I emptied our wet clothes from the pool into the washer and gathered more dirty clothes from his hamper in the bathroom to complete the load. I added the soap and started it, closing the cupboard and wondering what to do next.

  The rest of the apartment, which I now knew was decorated in the same tastes of his bedroom at his parent’s house, looked pretty clean. I was sure he’d straightened everything up for tonight. Having missed dinner with his family, though, I was hungry, so I went into the small kitchen to search for some food.

  There was a delicious-looking strawberry cheesecake in the refrigerator, and I was positive it was a dessert he planned on sharing with me later. He knew strawberries were one of my favorite things. I sighed, biting my lip as I smiled. I loved him.

  A short time later, I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a small plate and was curled up on the couch with my e-reader. I browsed through my books, looking for something to read while I waited. I needed to occupy my mind with something besides checking the clock every thirty seconds to see how much time had passed.

  About thirty minutes later, I was a few chapters into my novel when I heard a knock at the door. My pulse rate instantly shot up. I briefly wondered who could be here until I spied Hunter’s keys lying on the table. I forgot I had them.

  I set my e-reader on the coffee table and stood, self-consciously running my hands over myself to smooth my clothes and check for crumbs. I silently cursed myself for not bringing my toothbrush with me. I was sure I had peanut butter breath now. I hurried to my purse and grabbed a mint before going to the door and opening it.