King of Clubs (Aces & Eights Book 2)

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King of Clubs (Aces & Eights Book 2) Page 8

by Sandra Owens


  “Yes, and that puts you close to him. You know, it gives you time to get to know him again.”

  Until he did as promised and put her on a plane. “Guess we should let him in.” When Madison unlocked the door and he stepped inside, he gave Madison a hug. Lauren envied their closeness.

  “So,” Madison said, “I guess you’re here to pick up Lauren?”

  He glanced from Madison to her, and Lauren could see the question in his eyes. How much had she told Madison? “She knows I’m staying in your guest room for a few days because of Peter.” She was still undecided as to whether she’d tell Madison she was leaving in a week, but if she did, she’d wait until it was time to go.

  “You need any more clothes?” Court asked. At her nod, he said, “Go get whatever you need. I’ll wait here.”

  Hemingway jumped out of the display window, giving them his I’m-hungry meow. Madison picked him up. “I’ll go upstairs with you and get Hemingway fed and settled in while you pack.”

  “Spill,” Madison said as soon as they were in the apartment. “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not. Really.” She hated lying to her friend, but the less Madison knew, the safer they’d both be. Plus, Madison would try to talk her out of leaving by arguing that the Gentry brothers could protect her. Maybe. The more she saw of them, the more she was coming to believe they could. But if what she’d long suspected about Stephan, and especially Peter, was true, then she just couldn’t involve Court and his brothers.

  Madison set Hemingway down. “I know you, Lauren. You’re hiding something, and I will find out what.”

  “Your imagination’s running away with you. I’ll meet you downstairs.” She headed for her room before Madison could start grilling her.

  Court stood in the shadows, away from the display window, watching the dark-colored car parked across the street. It had pulled into the space while he was talking to Lauren and Madison, but no one had exited. Suspicious and wanting to know who was in the car, he pulled out his phone and made a call to a friend. The girls came down a few minutes later.

  “Stay in the hallway,” he said.

  Lauren peeked around the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “Not sure yet, but we’re about to find out.”

  A police cruiser slowed as it passed the bookstore. David Markham, his cop friend, pulled up next to the car, turning on his blue lights. David exited the cruiser, going to the driver’s window. A minute later, a driver’s license was handed over. After a short discussion, David returned the license. The car’s lights came on before it drove off.

  “Don’t come out until I tell you to,” he said once the taillights disappeared. Court walked to the cruiser.

  “You always make life interesting, Court, my man. What’s the story this time?”

  “Depends on who was in the car.”

  “Man by the name of Peter Kozlov, and somehow I don’t think that surprises you.”

  “Wish I could say it did. What’d he say he was doing?”

  David shrugged. “That he needed to text someone so he pulled over. Funny thing, when I walked up to the window, his phone was nowhere in sight. I suppose you know what he was up to?”

  “Yep. Dude’s harassing the woman who lives above the bookstore. She’s a friend. I need one more favor.”

  “If it’s in my power.”

  “I need to get her away without anyone knowing. Can you stay out here, make sure Kozlov doesn’t circle back?”

  “That I can do.”

  “Also, for the next week or so, keep an eye on the bookstore. My brother’s wife is part owner. He’d be real upset if anyone messed with her in an attempt to get to her friend.”

  “Her friend the one upstairs?” At Court’s nod, David said, “I’ll pass the word around.”

  “Appreciate it. I owe you one.” The more eyes on the bookstore the better.

  David snorted. “Just one? I’m collecting them until I have enough favors from you for a fishing trip in the Bahamas on your dime.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, my friend.” While David drove the police cruiser into a parking space, Court jumped into his car, moving it across the street in front of the shop’s door.

  “I’m taking you home, too, Madison,” he said, poking his head in the doorway. “Let’s load up before our friend comes back.”

  “Why’s a cop here, and who was in that car?” Lauren asked.

  “I’ll explain everything when we get to my place.”

  On the way back to his condo, he made several turns, watching his rearview mirror. As he drove, he kept glancing at Lauren. She huddled in her seat, her gaze out the window, but he doubted she even noticed the passing scenery. He guessed that she’d figured out who had been in the car.

  It was killing him, seeing her like that. He couldn’t help comparing her to the girl he’d met on the beach. If she’d told him what was going on in her life, how different would things be today?

  Had she been in danger even back then? Was that why she’d ended things between them without an explanation? Because she’d been forced to? Until he knew the full story, he could only guess, and he didn’t like guessing.

  In the elevator as they rode up, Lauren stood as far away from him as possible, keeping Madison between them. It irritated him how much he wanted to touch her, to somehow put the laughter back into her eyes. Being around her brought all the memories back. How soft her skin felt as his hands explored every inch of her body, how her scent intoxicated him, how she tasted, but most of all, the way she would look at him, her eyes filled with love. Or so he’d thought at the time.

  He wanted to kiss her senseless, until she begged him to take her right here in the elevator. By the time they said good-bye to Madison, and he closed his condo door behind him and Lauren, he was past caring that she’d cut out his heart with a rusty hacksaw.

  She stood in his entryway, silent and wary. That irritated him, too. He didn’t deserve her attitude. He’d done nothing but love her. Something dark and hungry was born inside him as their eyes caught and held. Keeping his gaze on her, he stepped closer. He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek, then brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

  Satisfaction hummed through him as desire replaced the wariness in her eyes. She wasn’t immune to him, and it was only fair. He sure as hell wasn’t immune to her. Maybe he should lock himself in his room until he got control of his need for her, but she was here and he’d never been able to resist her.

  “If you don’t want me to kiss you, walk away right now.” But she didn’t walk away, so he cupped her chin, lifting her face. Their eyes locked as he lowered his mouth, softly pressing his lips to hers. She stood perfectly still, but her breath hitched when their lips touched.

  Hungry for her, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into the sweet recess of her mouth. At her quiet whimper, he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her against him. She willingly came, snuggling into him. Their tongues tangled, and for all he knew or cared, the world could have stopped turning.

  When she slid her arms around his neck, he walked her back a few steps until she was pressed against the wall. He rocked his groin against her, showing her what she did to him. She groaned, and by sheer force of will, he tore his mouth away before he took her down to the floor with him in his foyer. He shouldn’t have touched her because now that he had, a fire raged inside him, wanting what he couldn’t have. With his breaths coming as fast as hers, he stared down at her. His head throbbed with the knowledge that the years hadn’t dimmed his desire for her.

  “That was a mistake,” he said, stepping back, putting space between them before the lust he felt could take over, consequences be damned. After he taught her how to disappear without a trace, she’d leave him again. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he wished she’d stay.

  She turned her face away. “Just don’t do it again.”

  He wasn’t sure he could promise that where she was concerned. “I have to go out for
a while. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” There was nowhere he needed to go, but he had to get away from her so he could get his head straight.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lauren stared at the door as it closed behind Court. It hurt hearing him say that kissing her was a mistake, and pride had made her tell him not to do it again. How was she supposed to spend seven days with him? Anytime he came near her, she wanted to touch him, wanted him to hold her the way he had when she’d still believed in happily ever afters.

  She touched her lips, still tingling from his kiss as she took in her surroundings. Since Court had brought her to his home, she really hadn’t taken the time to look around. Who was he today, the boy she’d fallen in love with?

  Spying a bottle of wine on his kitchen counter, she poured a glass, then wandered into the living room. His furniture was all earth tones, subdued like him. He apparently liked minimalist contemporary. Other than a large, obviously expensive, brown leather couch, a matching recliner, a dark cherry coffee table, and a large-screen TV mounted on the wall, that was about it, except for a single bookcase next to the TV. She walked over to it.

  She counted sixteen books, all nonfiction. There were a few biographies on famous people, a couple of criminal justice books, including one titled Famous Cases of the FBI. As she pulled it out to flip through it, she noticed a thin hardback in poor condition. She picked it up instead. It was one of R. L. Stine’s Goosebumps books and appeared to be well read.

  Inside the front cover was a message:

  Happy birthday, my sweet son. You are growing into a wonderful young man, and I’m so proud of you.

  Love always,

  Mommy

  Lauren smiled. Something about holding a book Court had obviously treasured as a boy brought tears to her eyes. What kind of childhood had he had? She hoped it had been a happy one. As she flipped through the pages, stopping to read a paragraph here and there, she couldn’t help but wish she knew more about his life.

  After replacing the book, she eyed the other items in the bookcase. The only photo was one of the three Gentry brothers, taken at Court’s graduation from Florida State University. Why didn’t he have any other family pictures, ones with his parents? It made her sad that she didn’t know. She traced her finger over Court’s face in the picture. It would have been taken only a few months after they’d met. Although he was smiling, it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Grabbing the bottle of wine and her phone, she headed out to the balcony. She’d seen her father and sister a few days before Peter had shown up, but she suddenly needed to hear her dad’s voice, needed to pretend for a few minutes that everything was normal. She stared at her phone, and then set it back on the table. It would be too tempting to tell him everything—about Stephan’s threat, that she needed to leave. He and Julie were safer not knowing anything.

  So she sat on Court’s balcony, sad and lonely and scared, and drank wine. Halfway through her second glass, she gave in, allowing herself to have a good cry. She’d lost so much already and stood to lose everything, including possibly her life. All because of a man who not only thought he owned her, but believed he had the right to dictate her every move, from her choice of clothes to who she could have as a friend. Even the books she read.

  “What are you reading,” Stephan had asked one afternoon after returning home from a team practice.

  They’d been married two weeks when he’d asked the question, and although he’d hit her on their wedding night, he’d apologized and begged her forgiveness. She’d believed him because tears of remorse had fallen down his cheeks as he promised it would never happen again. She hadn’t yet learned to be afraid of him.

  Although she was well read, romances were her go-to books when she wanted an escape for a few hours. Without hesitation, she’d lifted the book, showing him the cover, which featured a sexy male model.

  He snatched the book out of her hand. “What is this? You are drooling over other men?”

  “Don’t be silly, Stephan. It’s a book, a story. It’s not real.”

  Rage had burned in his eyes, and he’d torn the book in half with his bare hands.

  After that, she’d kept her romance novels hidden, only reading them when he was playing away games. It wasn’t until she left him that she could look back and see that the book-tearing episode had been the beginning of her trying to be the perfect wife, doing her best not to upset him.

  Well, he could just go to hell. She refilled her glass, then lifted the goblet in a salute. “I just sent you to hell, Stephan, so take that, you bastard. And another thing. You will never touch me again.” She angrily swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Ever,” she whispered. She’d rather die first. She tipped her glass to her mouth, drinking the last of her wine. “And I’ll read as many romance books as I want to, whenever I want to.”

  The balmy breeze coming off the Atlantic was soothing, and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes. What was it about the ocean that brought peace to her heart? The rhythmic crashing of the surf floated up, lulling her to sleep.

  Sometime later, she jerked awake. A little drunk and half asleep, she stumbled to her room. The pillow next to her smelled like Court, as if a rain-drenched forest had been sprinkled with exotic spices. She pulled it to her, snuggling her face into it.

  Court stood next to his bed, staring down at the woman sound asleep in it. Why was Lauren in his bed? Seeing her hugging his pillow as if wanting to be close to him did things to his heart, things he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

  He’d found a half-empty bottle of wine on the balcony. Did she even know which room she’d gone to? He debated moving her to the guest room, but it was late, he was tired, and he decided he liked her right where she was.

  For tonight, he would stop thinking about their past. Other than a quick shower to get the stink of the day off, he wanted nothing more than to slide into that bed and hold close the woman he’d never been able to forget. But he couldn’t.

  An hour later, still wide-awake and keeping space between them, he listened to Lauren mumble in her sleep. As tired as he was, he’d been sure he’d drop right off. That wasn’t happening. He wanted her. He didn’t want her. Teach her what she needed to know so he could get her out of his life, or never let her go? At some point, he was going to have to make a decision. Straddling the fence wasn’t his style, but this woman had him tied up in knots.

  “No, Stephan.” She let out a sob, her body jerking as if struck. “Please stop!”

  What had the bastard done to her to make her cry out in her sleep? When she started kicking him as if trying to escape, Court gathered her into his arms. “Hush, baby. You’re safe.” A shudder passed through her. “I promise no one will ever hurt you again.” He kept his voice soft, and as he talked to her, she calmed. Once she’d fallen back into a peaceful sleep, he continued to hold her, spooning his body around hers.

  “What am I going to do about you, Lauren?” he whispered before drifting off.

  The warm body snuggled up to him wiggled as if trying to get closer. Court inhaled the vanilla-lavender scent, knowing even in the haze of sleep that it was Lauren in his bed. He put his hand on her hip.

  “Be still.” If she kept doing that, she was going to wake up to find him buried balls deep inside her.

  She tilted her head back, blinking sleepy eyes at him. “Court?”

  “Mmm?” He smiled. Her short hair looked like she’d stuck a finger in an electrical socket. For some reason, he found that sexy. Although, it could be that the warm ass she kept moving against him had short-circuited his brain. Right now, he’d probably find a bald Lauren sexy.

  “Why are you in my bed?”

  “Look around you, G.G., and then tell me who’s in whose bed.”

  “Did you move me here?” she asked after eyeing her surroundings.

  “No, you found my bed all by yourself. What would Freud make of that, I wonder?” No answer. He leaned over to see that she had gone back to sle
ep. He should get up, but he couldn’t resist the way she felt, snuggled up against him. Just a few more minutes, and then he’d leave, go spend the rest of the night on the guest bed.

  “Court?”

  “Mmm?” He opened his eyes, glancing at the alarm clock. A few more minutes had morphed into another hour. “Dreaming about you,” he said. Hell. He pressed his lips together. If he hadn’t been half asleep, he never would have admitted that.

  “I dream about you sometimes, too,” she whispered, then turned in his arms. “Is that why you brought me in here?”

  Obviously, she didn’t remember her nightmare or waking up. “No. The big bad bear came home and found Goldilocks already in his bed.”

  “Do you want to kiss me?”

  “God, yes.” He didn’t care that he hadn’t decided what he wanted from her. She was here in his bed, and if she wanted a kiss, he would oblige her. He slipped his hand behind her neck, splaying his fingers over her soft skin, intending only a small taste. The problem with kissing Lauren was that once he started, it was impossible to stop.

  When he slipped his tongue into her mouth, she sighed. He remembered those breathy sighs, had loved them. This was what he’d been missing. Her. No other woman had been able to take her place. God knew, he’d tried.

  From her mouth, he peppered kisses along her jaw, working his way to her neck. From there, he traveled down until his mouth reached a breast. She moaned, burying her hands in his hair when he flicked his tongue over the nipple. She’d always been responsive to his every touch, and that hadn’t changed. He slid his knee between her thighs, the heat radiating from her warming his skin.

  “Make love to me, Court.”

  “Why?” He needed to know. If their being together meant nothing to her, then he couldn’t do this. They might not be back to where they were when they’d parted at the end of spring break, but it would mean something to him.

  She captured his gaze. “I want to feel the way I did that week we were together, even if it’s just for tonight.”

 

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