Razed

by Shiloh Walker

  Knowing from experience those questions would just keep on coming, she stopped him with the most expedient means necessary. She clapped her hand over his mouth.

  Dark brown eyes narrowed at her over her hand and she cocked a brow. “Let me answer a question before the next barrage starts,” she suggested.

  There was a familiar tread of boots and she glanced up, saw Zach in the doorway. His eyes had that guarded look, one she was too familiar with these days, but she tried not to let it bother her.

  His gaze moved to Zane and she dropped her hand, focusing on Javi as Zach moved to greet his brother.

  “I’m fine,” she said, addressing Javi’s first question. “I would have called, but there was a phone mess-up and I didn’t have my phone and I couldn’t remember your number. And to what happened . . .” She grimaced, her words trailing off.

  That was when she noticed Zach’s curious stare.

  The tension that still lingered between them grew heavier. Maybe she’d just explain this all later—

  “What’s going on?” Zach asked softly.

  Blowing out a sigh, she shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Ani had me set up on a blind date and it kind of tanked. He was a jerk, tried to get physical.”

  Zach’s brows dropped low over his eyes but before he could say anything, she held up her hands. “I handled it. Both of you know I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. But it wasn’t even necessary.” She jerked her thumb at Zane. “Clark Kent here showed up. Zach, how come you never told anybody that your brother was some kind of kung fu master or something?”

  Zach crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s back the train up a little. I’m still trying to get past the he got physical part. Just what does that mean?”

  “He put his hands on me.” She jerked a shoulder in a shrug, recalled the bruising strength of the man. Everything else was a blur of adrenaline and lights and nerves as she’d slammed her booted foot into his head. She thought she might have smashed her elbow into his face—there was a bruise there so it was very likely.

  Blowing out a breath, she said it again. “He got physical. He didn’t like that I was blowing him off. Said I was too uptight and why couldn’t I chill out and I told him to get out of my face and I’d chill out when I wanted to. So he grabbed my arm and I shoved him. He grabbed me again and I just . . .” She blinked, frowned. “I reacted. I don’t even entirely remember what all happened. Then Zane was there, the guy was on the ground. I’m fine, okay?”

  Zane placed his hand on her back, stroked up.

  That light touch somehow managed to calm her frazzled nerves.

  She would have liked to turn to him, press her lips to his neck. But even that was more than she felt comfortable with. She did stay there, enjoyed the warmth of that long-fingered, elegant hand on her back, his thumb stroking back and forth over her skin.

  Zach shot Zane a look, a demanding one. Tell me. Now.

  That look said a lot even though he never opened his mouth.

  “You heard what she said,” Zane said, his voice level. “I’d swung by here yesterday. We bumped into each other, dropped our phones, mixed them up. I figured it out after she’d left, called her. Since she had plans, I said I’d swing by with the phone. I show up and hear her in the parking lot. Come up while the guy was coming at her.” He finished with a shrug.

  “Tell me you took him apart,” Zach said, his voice tight.

  “I handled it,” Zane responded.

  “Ugh.” Keelie’s groan was loud, full of irritation and disgust. “He’s in the hospital, Zach, if that satisfies your manly need for violence. The guy had a knife on him, pulled it on Zane. And that’s when I discovered your brother is like Superman or something.”

  Zane felt blood rush up the back of his neck as she shot Zach another sidelong look. “How come nobody ever let any of us know that Zane had a secret identity?”

  A few taut seconds passed. Then Zach sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hell. Z’s the one who taught all of us how to fight. Everybody is so busy being fooled by the buttoned up shirts and the glasses, they just think he’s the nice one.” Zach speared Zane with a sharp look. “Sometimes I think he should have been the actor.”

  “No, thanks,” Zane said, his voice dry. “You and Seb want to spend half your life strutting around like peacocks in front of a camera? Knock yourselves out. I got better things to do.”

  “Hey!” Zach jabbed him. “You live behind a camera.”

  “Exactly.” He slid Zach a look. “How else do you think I recognize the peacocks?”

  * * *

  “Well, at least I know why you wanted to meet here,” Zach said as he slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Yeah?”

  Zach jerked his shoulder in a shrug. “You were checking up on Keelie. Don’t worry. Javi and I will keep an eye on her.”

  Zane chewed on it for a minute, debated, then decided what the hell. Once he moved here—and he did plan on finding something here, no matter what—Zach would figure it out.

  “I wasn’t here checking up on her,” he said, reaching into the front compartment of his messenger bag and tugging out his prescription sunglasses. He traded them out and tucked away his regular ones before looking over at Zach. “We had coffee.”

  Zach started the car, his face carefully blank.

  But judging by the way his muscles had tensed a little, Zane suspected this conversation wasn’t done.

  It didn’t take thirty seconds to find out just how right he was.

  “Coffee. You’re in town, the two of you had a nice, friendly cup of coffee sort of thing?” Zach asked, his voice carefully neutral.

  “Nope. We had coffee as in I’m crazy about her and I’m doing my damnedest to get her to notice that. I think she finally figured it out, and we had coffee.” He decided it was better not to mention that he’d spent the past few months coming up with a plan to put himself in Keelie’s path so she’d be all but tripping over him. He didn’t mention that Keelie was a huge part of the reason why he’d decided to move to Tucson—not all of it, but a big part of it.

  He didn’t think Zach’s blood pressure could handle it. Instead, he just slid his brother a look and shrugged. “I think it went pretty well.”

  “You think it went well,” Zach muttered. He shoved a hand through his hair and stared off at nothing, his eyes going hard and flat. He jabbed a button and the top of the convertible glided back, the hot, dry wind blowing in. Tipping his head back to stare at the big, blue bowl of the overhead sky, Zach was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he said, “You’ve been crazy about her for years. I know that. You’ve asked her out about two thousand times. I told you what happened—”

  “Make it two thousand and one,” Zane said, cutting off Zach before he could go any further. “I asked her out again this morning. She said yes. We’re having dinner tonight. So we have to knock off in time for me to be back here to get my car.”

  Zach swung his head around and Zane stared at his younger brother.

  He meant well. Zane knew that.

  But all he wanted him to do was let it go.

  “Z, you know what happened—”

  “Yeah. I know,” he said, cutting Zach off. “And if she was trying to slip into your bed, doing anything to break you two up, that would be different. But then again, if she was like that, I doubt I’d be obsessing over her the way I do. Here’s the thing—she’s not like that and you can’t say otherwise. Can you?”

  “Of course she hasn’t—she’s not—shit.” Zach started to drum his fist on the steering wheel, focusing his gaze on the parking lot around them. “Look, I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

  “I’m not big on it myself, man. But unlike you, I’m not going to sit around for fifteen or twenty years and hope like hell something happens to change things. If it’s ever going to happen, now’s the time.” He shrugged. “And if not? Then at least I know.”

  Zach put the car into reverse, but instead
of backing out, he said quietly, “And what happens if tonight goes well, then what?”

  “Then it does.” Zane rested his head on the padded cushion, his mind already spinning forward down that path. “I have to fly out on Monday, even if we do find a place. It will take me a few weeks to move. You already told me I could crash at the loft when I need to. I’ll be going back and forth for a little while. I’ll ask her if I can call her. I’ll ask her out again. If it keeps going well, I’ll be happy to know you’re nice and annoyed, wondering if every time her phone buzzes at work, it’s because I’m sending her texts you’d rather not think about.”

  Zach shoved the heel of his hand against his eye. “That girl is like a sister to me. Why you gotta do that, man?”

  “Hey, I had to take pictures of your wife. Naked pictures.”

  “A picture fairy took those, remember?” Zach shot him a dark look. Then he sighed grimly. “Let’s get this show on the road. You need to get back and make yourself all pretty for your fucking date.”

  Zane snorted. “Unlike you, superstar, I don’t need to make myself pretty for a date. I already am pretty.”

  Chapter Six

  It had been exactly ten days since her first date with Zane.

  And her second, really.

  The coffee thing counted, Keelie had decided.

  Especially after that kiss.

  Especially since she’d worked up the nerve to take the step.

  Yeah, the coffee counted.

  So, really, they’d had two dates in one day.

  And not even thirty-six hours later, Zane was on a plane out of town. She would have been demoralized, except he’d told her about it that very night.

  He had to go to San Francisco so his mother didn’t kill him.

  He had to pretend to look at a few spots there.

  Then he had to do a few photo shoots back home, appointments he was already committed to.

  Then he was heading back to Tucson. He hadn’t specified when, but he was coming back.

  She had no doubt about that. He was serious about this. Very serious.

  His house was up for sale.

  He was leaving Albuquerque and moving to Tucson.

  Bent over a sketch for a custom piece she had to do that afternoon, she eyed her phone and wondered if she would come off as completely lame if she called him. Or sent him a text.

  She could maybe take a picture—

  Her phone started to buzz. She looked up, smiling as a now-familiar ringtone filled her work area.

  Sheryl Crow and Kid Rock—“Picture.”

  And there was a picture of Zane filling the screen. She’d snapped that one, while he was talking to Zach in the parking lot out back. She couldn’t even compare when it came to photography, not with Zane, although she knew how to point and shoot.

  Still, she’d wanted a picture of him, just him, that was hers and only hers. Of course, even that thought made her feel silly and stupid.

  Reaching for the phone, she swiped her finger across the screen and watched as the message bubble popped up.

  You doing anything tonight?

  She smiled.

  No.

  She hit Send and then settled down in the chair. Earbuds in, music blaring, she was completely unaware of anything else in the world.

  * * *

  “I bet they’re sexting,” Javi said, his face straight.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Zach wince, then, carefully, his expression went blank. “What have you got on for the afternoon, man?”

  “Just finished up a walk-in. Have a repair job due in this afternoon.” Rubbing at his goatee, he looked back down the hall toward Keelie’s work area. Although none of the rooms were completely private, they had four walls and were closed off by a set of swinging doors, offering privacy to those getting tattoos of a more intimate nature. The only room that was completely private was the piercing area where Anais worked, although as of yet, she hadn’t talked Zach into letting her do anything more intimate than a naval piercing.

  She kept calling him uptight.

  Personally, Javi was with him on that. He didn’t want to think about a man getting his dick pierced or a woman getting a piercing in anything close to her hoo-haa—Aida had taught him that word. But some people were into that and Javi wasn’t opposed on principle. It was just that his balls shriveled up and died a little every time Anais talked about Prince Edward piercings or clitoral piercings and all sorts of other piercings.

  He had a feeling that was why she persisted.

  Just for the hell of it.

  Same reason he was yanking Zach’s chain right now. It was fun.

  “I gotta say, I never would have thought I’d see the two of them making eyes at each other, but that look on her face, amigo,” Javi said, heaving out a theatrical sigh. “I’m telling you, he’s gone and done something to her. I used to think you had a way with women, man. But Zane’s got you beat if he’s done that to Keelie.”

  “Whatever,” Zach muttered, red creeping up his neck, spiraling past the tattoos.

  Javi bit back a grin.

  “You think he’s gonna start visiting more often?” he asked, watching as Zach bent over the design in front of him, sketching with a little more intensity than necessary.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Zach threw his pencil down and shot him a look, his blue eyes aggravated. “Don’t you get enough of this watching those soaps you love with Aida? No, he won’t be visiting more often. Z’s moving here. As soon as he gets things settled in Albuquerque.”

  For a few seconds—only a few—Javi was speechless.

  Then he caught the back of the chair across from Zach and hauled it out, dropping into it and leaning forward.

  Zach was already bent back over the sketch.

  “Moving. As in here? Mierda,” Javi muttered. “That went and got serious quicker than I thought. No wonder you’re all twitchy.”

  “Hell.” Zach sighed and leaned back in his seat, his eyes glinting. “I’m not twitchy. Or if I am, it’s because you’re needling me. But Z’s not moving here over Keelie. Or not . . .”

  Zach blew out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe she’s part of it. I don’t know. But he quit the bar where he worked. He’s making a go of his photography.”

  “Really?” Javi grinned. “That’s awesome, man. He’s good. Real good. He oughta be . . . like on magazines, in museums or shit.”

  “He has been.” Zach slanted a look at him. “He could be a hell of a lot bigger if he’d just focus on it.”

  There was something unsaid at the end of that sentence, though. Javi had known Zach too long not to catch it.

  “But . . . ?”

  “He holds himself back. Stays on the side. Always did. He’s reaching for it,” Zach said, pushing the chair back and rising, gathering the sketches on the desk, staring off at nothing. “Reaching, finally, and that’s something. But he always holds back and he can’t make this work if he doesn’t really let himself go.”

  “What makes you think he won’t?” Javi studied him, seeing the concern, the worry.

  “Because he’s my brother,” Zach said softly. “And I know him. He never really goes all in. Not on anything.”

  * * *

  Heart thumping against her ribs, Keelie sat in the arrivals lane at the airport, searching. She didn’t see that tall, familiar figure.

  So she checked her phone.

  The flight status hadn’t changed from five minutes ago. He’d landed.

  Okay. She flipped down her mirror, checked her hair. It looked like it had four minutes ago.

  “Stop it,” she muttered, closing the visor and focusing on the flow of people on the sidewalks. He had to get his suitcase, had to deal with all the people. It would take him more than just twenty minutes—

  There was a tap at her window.

  Adrenaline spiked.

  Then, before anything could show on her face, she turned her head. Something loosened inside her wh
en she saw Zane, even as other things clenched, or started to melt.

  Zane . . .

  She reached over and unlocked the door before climbing out. She eyed him over the top of the battered VW Bug and said, “You are certain you want me driving you around? You’re barely going to fit in here.”

  He just smiled, a slow, lazy curve of his lips, and then he curled his fingers toward her.

  Her knees knocked together as she walked over there.

  It felt like they were moving backward in this whole dating thing—they’d made out, he’d made her climax, and then they’d had coffee, dinner . . . and all she’d gotten out of those two encounters were kisses that all but scalded her.

  Not that she was complaining. It gave her brain time to acclimate, and she really needed to acclimate. Dating so wasn’t her thing, as evidenced by the erratic string of bad dates and her abysmally few unpleasant attempts at relationships since high school.

  Very, very few.

  By the time she reached the curb where he was waiting, her heart was hammering in her chest and she was way too hot. Not that it was cool out. This was Arizona, after all, but she felt like she’d just plunged into a pool of lava, skin buzzing, burning.

  “Hey,” she said, stopping only when her boots bumped against his shoes.

  He reached up, his hand splaying over her neck. Her pulse jumped, slammed against his palm and she felt her breath hitch, catch.

  He still hadn’t said anything but she stopped wondering about that in the next second as he lowered his mouth and pressed his lips to hers.

  His tongue slid out, teased her.

  She opened for him, reaching for his shirt and curling her hands into it.

  He repeated that same light caress, his tongue brushing against her lips. Again, and again, until she whimpered against his lips and tried to take control herself. He slid an arm around her, curved it around her waist, tucking her so tight against him, not even a breath could have separated them.

  That was fine.

  Who needed to breathe anyway?

  His hand twisted in the fabric of her shirt and she felt the light brush of air kiss her back, then his other hand tugged on her hair, tipping her head back, changing the angle of the kiss.