by Karin Tabke
“What did your uncle say?”
“He said not to trust anyone.”
Reese nodded. “It’s good advice.”
She glared at him. “Advice I’ll take.”
And she would keep the fact he was another lying man out on the table where she could see it. It made her job so much easier, and some of the sting lifted when she considered the one perk. Who better to protect her from her family than a trained professional?
Frankie retreated into her own private thoughts. She must have dozed off; when she woke they were just coming into Half Moon Bay and turning south on Highway One. Frankie shivered.
“What’s wrong?”
“My father was killed just past the brewery.”
Reese put his signal on to turn back onto the two-lane highway, and Frankie put her hand on his. “No, drive me there.”
Chapter Twenty
Frankie walked to the edge of the Blue Moon Brewery patio, perched on the top of a low cliff. She looked down at the raging surf.
“He came here for an espresso, just like he did every time he left Carmel.” The breeze stirred her damp hair, and her soft scent flirted with Reese’s senses. He resisted the urge to take her in his arms and kiss the top of her head. He shook his head, uncomfortable with the feelings her sorrow stirred. Instead, he flipped the switch and went into recon mode. He stepped up close behind her, letting the warmth of his body soothe her.
“Tell me what happened.”
“It was early,” she said, her voice barely audible over the surf, “the restaurant was closed. But Father knew the door code and let himself in like he’d done hundreds of times. Mr. Martini, the owner, owed my father. He loaned him the money to start this place.” She laughed quietly. “Santo Gabriel to the rescue.”
Reese reached out to her shoulder and touched her. It surprised him that the gesture came easy.
“Did Mr. Martini see your father?”
She shook her head. “No. He hadn’t arrived yet. Father made his espresso and came out here.”
“Who found him?”
“Jimmy.”
That was news. “I thought Jimmy worked for your uncle.”
Frankie nodded. “He does, but before that he was Father’s bodyguard.”
She leaned over the railing and pointed to a large, flat boulder sticking out of the side of the cliff about thirty yards down the slope. “You can still see the bloodstains on the rock.” She shuddered. “They shot him in the back of the head like cowards, then dumped his body over this railing for good measure.”
“I remember reading about it.” Reese put his hands on the railing on either side of Frankie and pressed his chest against her back.
He smiled when she didn’t stiffen. His grin widened when she relaxed into his body. “I doubt he suffered,” he said, his lips touching her hair, her clean scent titillating. As it always did when she was so close, his body responded. His blood vessels swelled and his skin warmed. He wanted more of her and idly wondered if he could ever get enough.
“That’s what the coroner said.”
She turned and leaned back against the stone railing. The morning light raining over the restaurant roof shone in her face, and she had to squint to see him. The breeze toyed with a stray lock of her dark hair.
Reese pushed it behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Frankie,” he said.
She nodded. “Me too. He wasn’t a bad man.”
Reese would beg to differ but held his tongue. “How did your mother take it?”
Frankie laughed. “No love lost, they’ve been divorced for years.”
“Anthony isn’t your brother?”
“Half brother. His mother maneuvered my father good.”
“No love lost, huh?”
She shook her head. “Not an ounce. I mean Anthony is okay for the spoiled man-child he is, but his mother, as my mother would say, is ‘common.’ ”
At least, Reese thought, Anthony’s mother stuck around.
“What about you, Reese?”
His intimacy alarm went off. He released his grip on the railing and stepped back from her.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Frankie grabbed his shirt front, pulling him to her. “You ask an awful lot of questions, now it’s my turn.”
He stopped his retreat and inwardly cringed. “What?”
“Tell me about your mother, your family.”
His muscles tensed and anger clouded his brain. “I don’t have any family.”
“What happened to them?”
He shrugged and tried to step away again, but Frankie’s grip on his shirt tightened. “Tell me.”
“They’re dead.”
“What happened?” she murmured.
“Not sure about my mother, but after my sister died my father mentally checked out.”
“Do you see him?”
“No.”
“How old was your sister when she died?”
“Twelve.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Reese stood rigid, his jaw tight, barely able to contain the pain and guilt that tore at his gut.
“Do you miss your mom?”
Reese shook his head and this time stepped back with enough force to break her grip. “No.”
He looked over his shoulder and around the empty balcony. Despite the fresh morning air and the salty breeze rolling off the Pacific, he felt uncomfortable, exposed. “We need to hit the road. Lightning has been known to strike the same place twice.”
For once she didn’t argue with him.
Reese felt reasonably sure they weren’t being tailed by unfriendlies. He knew one or more of the task force men would be following in their wake, the GPS device in his cell and also in his truck a constant beacon. Frankie had quieted and for once her fight seemed to be gone. He felt for her. She was alone in the world right now, running for her life and with no one to turn to but him, a stranger who in the end could send her up the river if she was guilty of a crime.
For the first time in his many undercover cases, Reese questioned his tactics. It all boiled down to him using Frankie as a means to an end. An end that would take a bunch of bad guys off the streets for a long time. Did the end justify the means?
Reese had given too many death notifications to shocked parents because their kid OD’d on drugs the Donatellos sold on the street. So many lives wasted, the dirty money used to garner more drugs, more prostitutes, more violence against society. Yeah, the end justified the means. And as in all things in life, there was collateral damage. He glanced at Frankie and his gut twisted. He was just sorry that in the end, she would be caught in the crossfire.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. He needed more information, and in her current mood she seemed receptive.
“I’m hungry.” His stomach growled to confirm his words.
Frankie nodded, the gesture barely perceptible. “There are plenty of little cafés along the coast. Just pick one.”
A few minutes later Reese pulled off Highway One and into the parking lot of a nondescript little café.
He came around and opened the door for Frankie and guessed from her down-turned lips and the dark circles under her eyes that she was tired and unhappy. Hell, no wonder. She’d been through the ringer. He let out a long breath. And he was about to squeeze some more.
He took her hand and led her up the sidewalk. For the second time that morning, she didn’t flinch when he touched her outside of bed. The echoing sound of the waves crashing the beach across the street coupled with the cries of the circling gulls echoed Frankie’s mood. He scanned the perimeter of the small building for the third time as they approached the structure.
“Is the food any good here?” he asked.
She shrugged absently. “I don’t know.”
They were seated immediately. The hostess gave them menus and asked if they would like something to drink. They both opted for coffee.
Several minutes later Reese ordered enough food to feed her entire father’s side of the family
. Frankie ordered toast.
“You should eat, Frankie,” Reese chastised.
She shrugged and looked out the window toward the ocean. Her long hair stirred as a breeze blew through the open screen window, a single strand catching across her lips. Reese reached over and brushed it away, his fingertips lingering on her bottom lip. “I know this is hard for you, Frankie. I give you my word, I’ll do whatever I can to protect you.”
Her reaction surprised him: her eyes narrowed and she slapped his hand away. “Do us both a favor, Reese, and stop lying to me.”
He withdrew and eyed her hard. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we talk only in truths. And here are mine. You signed a contract to strip where and when I tell you. I’m holding you to every clause. I also agreed to allow you to stick around to protect my ass. When we get to Carmel, I might ask you to help me with something else, and you will either agree or not. If you agree, you’ll do it without questions or subterfuge. I don’t want any complications with you.”
The waitress approached with a laden tray and filled the table with Reese’s many plates. “Why won’t you talk about him?” Reese stabbed a hunk of sausage and put it in his mouth. He eyed her as he slowly chewed. He took a swig of his coffee, swallowed, and said, “He must have burned you bad.”
Instead of eating, she looked out the window, her jaw set, her body language clear. “Mind your own business.”
It didn’t stop Reese. “Did he humiliate you?”
Frankie turned to him, her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flared, her color high. She looked incredibly fuckable at that moment, and Reese’s body reacted.
“Why the fifty questions?”
“You’re my meal ticket, I don’t want to make the same mistake as the guy before me.” He cringed as the words came out. He didn’t mean it the way it sounded.
Frankie’s eyes widened and her jaw clenched. “So I’m nothing but a meal ticket to you?”
“You’re more than that.” And it wasn’t a lie, damn it.
“Oh, that’s right, I’m also your sport fucking partner.”
He leaned forward, covering the space of the small table. Frankie sat back in her chair and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. He traced a finger along her forearm to her hand, trailing a circle around her knuckles. He sniffed the air; her unique natural scent blended with the spicy salt of the sea, flirted with his nostrils. “I’ll never forget how sweet you smelled this morning.” He watched her cheeks flush deep red.
She snatched her hand away from his lingering fingers. “Don’t touch me again.”
“C’mon, Frankie. Admit it, we fit.”
Frankie’s demeanor didn’t change. Her brows slammed together and the muscles under her jaw twitched.
“I’m not the bad guy.”
“You’re a man, that’s enough.”
“Aw, c’mon, Frankie, be nice to me.”
Her lips twitched. She shook her head.
“Maybe you just need to sit back and relax, let it ride and see what happens.” Reese plucked a strawberry off the mound of cream on his waffles. When he bit into it, it sluiced. He licked the pooling juice with a slow, lascivious swipe of his tongue. “That was you this morning, Frankie, sweet, red, and juicy.”
“Stop it,” she whispered. And despite her sour mood, his words excited her. Everything about him excited her.
He dipped his finger into the cream on his plate and spread it across the glistening flesh of the strawberry. His blue eyes sparkled like sapphires when he looked at her. He licked the cream long and hard from the flesh of the ripe fruit. “That’s what I’m going to do to you the next time I get between your legs.”
Frankie squirmed in her chair. Reese popped the strawberry into his mouth and chewed slowly, his gaze never wavering from hers. He plucked another one from the bowl and dredged it through the cream. He leaned forward, a smile tugging at his lips, and wagged the cream-covered strawberry beneath her nose. “I dare you.”
She smiled despite her dark mood.
“Tell me about the prick who broke your heart.”
Frankie shook her head and gazed out the window. Suddenly Sean didn’t matter. She turned and looked hard at Reese. “I was duped. He got me into bed, promised me the world, asked me to marry him, and then sold me out.” There, she said it. And for some reason saying it out loud took some of the sting out of it.
She watched Reese for a reaction. He didn’t move a muscle. His face remained impassive.
“That guy was an idiot.”
“I know that now. I think I was more upset about what I thought I lost than the actual loss of him.”
“I never make promises I can’t keep.” Reese raised the strawberry to her mouth and rubbed the cream-laden tip across her full bottom lip. “I promise you, you won’t get bored with me.”
She smiled and licked the creamy strawberry. Reese grinned, his teeth shining in the bright morning light. She bit into the fruit, the juice sliding down her chin. Reese moved his chair closer. Bending his face to her, he whispered, “Woman, you drive me crazy,” then licked her chin.
His warm tongue swiped across her skin. “The feeling is mutual.”
Reese pulled back and smiled. “Good, for once we agree.”
Despite the situation she found herself in, Frankie ate with a new gusto, her spirits considerably lifted.
With her belly full, and the smooth suspension of the SUV, Frankie bit back several yawns. “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you when we hit Monterey.” She nodded, and before she realized she had slept, Reese was shaking her awake.
She sat up with a start. Glancing at the dash clock, she realized she had slept for two hours. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”
“You were dreaming.”
She furrowed her brow. “Sean…”
Frankie racked her brain. She didn’t remember specifics, but she knew her dreams were not wishful regarding Sean. Probably reliving the shame and pain. And though she was over Sean, it still stung at times.
“Why are you angry?” she asked.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. The muscles in your cheek are all twitching and you’re gripping the steering wheel so tight your knuckles are white.”
He shot her a dark scowl.
“See? And now you’re looking at me all mean.”
“I’m not angry with you, Frankie. I just can’t stand guys like Sean.” Or the fact that she’d spent the last three days with him, and it was that asshole she was dreaming about.
“Me either.”
“Then why the hell did you agree to marry the schmuck? Didn’t you see it coming?”
She blanched with shock at his accusation. “You’ve never made a mistake?” she shot back.
It was his turn to blanch. He’d made more than a few. One killed his sister.
He shook his head.
Sitting next to Reese, his anger bouncing around the truck cab, Frankie felt her emotions collide. This man drove her crazy. One moment she felt like maybe they had a connection, then, bam, in the next breath he shattered it, beating her up for a mistake. She sucked in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. None of it mattered, she realized. Unk’s words surfaced. The only connection she could have with him was between her camera lens and his body. She realized she’d begun to have feelings for him. Bad, Frankie. Real bad. He was dangerous on so many levels, and she was not up for more heartache.
She glanced covertly at his handsome profile. The muscle in his jaw still twitched and she was sure she was responsible for it on some level. For that she was glad. He could suffer right along with her. Her eyes narrowed. She decided to give him a chance to come clean with her.
“Are you a cop?”
Reese scowled at her. “I’ve already answered that question.”
“Answer it again.”
“No.”
“No, you aren’t going to answer again or no, you aren’t a cop?”
“No to both.”
Frankie sat back and crossed her arms over her chest and her legs at the knees. She frowned. If he was a cop, did that mean he wasn’t held to the contract he signed? If he was a cop, and this whole deal went south, did she even want him as her centerfold? She glanced at him, and her belly rolled. Yeah, she wanted him. And come hell or worse — her family getting in the way — she was going to have his sexy naked ass and abs on every magazine stand in the country. “I want your word, no matter what, even if you turn out to be someone else, you’ll honor the contract.”
Reese did not hesitate with his answer. “I give you my word.” Of course, it could be completely worthless. She was willing to take a chance on this man.
“If you’re lying to me, you’ll regret it.”
He shot her a narrowed glare. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m just stating a fact.”
He turned his attention back to the road and the twitch in his cheek flared with renewed vigor.
After a long, drawn-out minute, Frankie said, “I need film and clothes.”
“We’ll stop in Monterey.”
“No, take One into Carmel.” She smiled smugly at him. The boutiques she had in mind would set him back a few dollars. “I prefer the shopping in Carmel. Then we’ll go back to Seventeen Mile Drive to my father’s house.”
Reese set his jaw. “I only have so much cash on me.”
“Then I suggest you get your plastic out. I’ll pay you back when all of this messy family business blows over.”
Reese grunted. It was the first of many. Frankie had no qualms about plunking down two hundred bucks for a pair of jeans, and she liked variety. She bought three pairs that looked the same to him. While she tried on clothes, Reese went outside and checked in with his team. No activity around the Carmel house, not even a drive-by.
Frankie bought sweaters, a jacket, shirts, shoes, and finally film. Out of necessity, Reese picked up a few things for himself. As he dumped the bags into the back of his truck, she announced, “We’ll need food. Pisotle’s is around the corner. Best deli in Carmel. Lots of goodies.”