by Lori Foster
“But you’ll find out.” Stack crouched down before him. “Because if you don’t, if you disappoint me, I’ll find you. You can trust me on this—you don’t want that to happen.”
It took only five minutes more before Denver and Justice showed up. Justice, the ass, stepped out of the car cracking his knuckles. Denver just looked his usual imposing self. As heavyweights, they were both massive, layered in muscle, and could easily inspire a healthy dose of fear in any man.
The man he’d already softened up was duly impressed.
Stack left it in their capable hands. He didn’t mention his arm, which now hurt like a son of a bitch. He didn’t think it was serious, but he’d figure it out at the rec center.
It’d take a hell of a lot more than a sneak attack by an unknown assailant or an injured arm to keep him away. Vanity would be there, and that was all the incentive he needed to prioritize.
Sex with Vanity, yup. Top priority all the way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
VANITY HAD THE DOGS settled in the main part of the house, toys and chews available. To keep them from destroying too much, she’d closed the doors to the bedrooms, basement and hall bath.
That left a lot of destruction possible, but she’d done all she could.
She stepped out of the house, closed and locked her front door—and became instantly aware that she wasn’t alone.
Startled, her hand automatically grabbing for the mace in her purse, she turned and came face-to-face with f’ing Phil.
“Hey there.” He smiled, nonthreatening, not too close. He kept his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, a knit hat pulled low over his head.
“Phil.” Vanity didn’t move. “What are you doing here?” She looked beyond him but didn’t see Lynn or Tabby. Odd. She didn’t feel exactly threatened, but neither was she comfortably at ease. Few had her address, and no one who did would have shared it. Did that mean Phil had followed her?
“Sorry to drop in like this.” He nodded at the keys in her hand. “You’re on your way out?”
“Heading to the rec center to meet Stack.” Just in case Phil had any unruly thoughts, she added, “He’s expecting me.”
Nodding to acknowledge that, Phil said, “I won’t keep you. I just... I was hoping I could impose on you.”
Keeping her expression carefully blank, Vanity asked, “Impose how?”
“A small loan?” As if shamed, he winced. “I hate to ask, and God knows Stack would lose his shit if he knew I asked you.”
Most definitely, Stack would be enraged. He pretty much stayed enraged at Phil anyway, but this...it was over the top, so much so that Stack just might take him apart if he knew.
Not that she planned to start keeping secrets from Stack. But she could be judicious in how and when she shared this particular exchange. And if she could influence things that made Stack’s life easier, that improved his relationship with his family, she’d jump on it.
Heading to her car, she asked, “A loan for what?”
“I’m trying to find a job. You know that, right?”
It felt very unnerving to have Phil at her back, so she turned and walked backward to keep him in her sights. “I had heard that, yes.”
“Well, there’s this one possibility at a drywall plant. Decent starting pay and bennies. But I need some stuff. Steel-toed boots, overalls, a hard hat.”
“The plant doesn’t supply the equipment?” She’d never heard of such a thing, but, granted, she’d never worked at a factory job either.
He shook his head—and maybe, though Vanity couldn’t be sure, his gaze went to her breasts, lingering longer than was proper.
She zipped up her hoodie. “How much would you need?”
“Five hundred?”
For boots and a hard hat? She gave him a look. “Phil, really, do I look stupid?”
“No! No, not at all.” His gaze darted over her again, and he licked his slack lips.
Vanity had to fight off a shudder. What was wrong with him? She wore her workout clothes of leggings with thick socks and athletic shoes, a cami under a thicker shirt and her hoodie. Not exactly sexy garb. No reason for him to keep gawking.
“The boots are expensive,” he explained. “And I’ll need to buy some stuff to pack for my lunch, and gas for the car...”
How had he gotten himself so broke? He was a healthy, able-bodied man who should have had no problem holding down a job. If not the ideal job, then any job until he found the right one.
Vanity scrutinized him. It annoyed him, she could tell, but he kept his mouth shut. Motivated to make life easier for Stack, trying—just once—to give Phil the benefit of the doubt, Vanity said, “I’ll give you three hundred.” She opened her purse and pulled out her wallet.
Phil focused on her wording. “Give?”
So easy to see exactly why Stack disliked him. “Give,” she confirmed. “If you’re just starting a job, it wouldn’t be easy to pay me back. Consider it a gift, with my best wishes that things work out for you.” She opened her wallet, thumbed through her money, and separated the decided amount.
When she looked at Phil, his gaze was no longer on her person.
No, his slack-jawed look rested solely on her cash. What a cretin.
Deciding to push him, Vanity kept the money in her hand. “I trust you won’t be smoking this?”
“Smoking it?”
“You enjoy getting high. I’ve seen it in your eyes.”
He shook his head hard and took a step closer. “The place does random drug testing. Gotta stay clean.”
She had her doubts, but it’d be worth the cost either way. If Phil actually got a job, if he started to contribute to his marriage, he’d make Tabby and Lynn happy, and ultimately Stack, too. And if he didn’t, then she’d have a good reason to never help him again.
Vanity held out the money.
“This is just between us?”
She nodded. “Between us.” For now at least.
He took the money, folded it and stuck it in his pocket. His wide grin looked less appreciative and more predatory. “Thanks, hon.”
“Let’s eschew the endearments, okay?”
One eye tightened. “Huh?”
“I barely know you. We’re not friends, and I’m definitely not your hon.” Firm, and very clear, she explained things to him. “Understand that I’m giving you the money for Tabby, because I know it would relieve her burden for you to have a job.”
“Right, right. Yeah. It’ll be a big help.” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and struck a leisurely stance. Sleazy to the core, he angled toward her. “Whatever I can do to repay the favor...”
“Not necessary.” Seriously, Phil absolutely had nothing she wanted. She got in the car. “Good luck with the job. I hope it all works out for you.” Done with the small talk, anxious to see Stack, she put the car in gear and drove away.
A glance in her side-view mirror showed Phil still standing on the curb, now looking at her house.
She had a very bad feeling about this. About him.
Being the proactive sort, Vanity made up her mind about what to do.
On her way to the rec center, she made a few calls.
* * *
WITH HIS FOREARM wrapped in ice, Stack stood before the heavy bag practicing kicks. Sweat soaked the front and back of his shirt, the waistband of his sweatpants, his neck and temples. He’d worked on kicks, and now concentrated on a reverse roundhouse kick.
Between the jog in the morning, the visit to his mother, and now his extended workout, he’d gone through a whole laundry load of clothes.
When the bell on the door pinged, he immediately looked up. Cannon and Yvette strolled in. They were immediately mobbed, ribbed, hugged and all around congratulated. Again.
&n
bsp; Cannon pulled off his knit hat, ran a hand through his hair, then tugged it on again. Glowing like a woman who’d just rolled off an orgasm, Yvette smiled dreamily at him.
Stack hoped like hell they weren’t here because of him.
Stepping away from the heavy bag, he mopped off the sweat and waited for Cannon to wade through his always present fan club. After about five minutes, he made his way to Stack.
“You should be at home,” Stack told him.
“In bed, I know.” Cannon grinned. “We went out for groceries and decided to drop in for a bit.”
“Shit. Denver told you, didn’t he?”
Without a word, Cannon reached for Stack’s arm and removed the taped-on ice pack.
“It’s not broke.”
“Damn.” Cannon checked it over, turned his wrist, manipulated his elbow. No, he wasn’t a doctor, but he was the most experienced of the bunch and recognized a lot from his own injuries. “How’s it feel?”
“Before or after you decided to work it over?”
Cannon flashed him a grin. “So you’ll live. Any idea why you were jumped?”
“Not yet. Word is out.” He explained what he knew and what had been done. “The jerk knows how to contact me once he finds out anything.”
“Think he will?”
“I checked his ID so I know where he lives. And I didn’t turn him in to the cops.” Stack upended a water bottle, quenching his thirst, then wiping his mouth. “I made it clear it was in his best interest to be helpful, then Denver and Justice reinforced the message.”
“I almost feel sorry for the dumbass.” Brow raised, he glanced at Stack’s arm. “Or maybe not.”
Without asking, Cannon knew no one had used unnecessary force against the thug. It’d be a bitch move for Stack to walk away, only to have two other hulks step in and pulverize an already beat-up guy. But he also knew they would have impressed upon the goon how important it was to do as told, along with cluing him in on what they considered good intel, and how and where to share it.
Denver joined them, then Leese. They talked a little longer, coordinating plans. They looked out for each other, and while Stack knew he could take care of himself, if fighters were suddenly targets, everyone needed to be on guard.
When the door chimed again, he looked up and met Vanity’s gaze. Nice that she’d immediately sought him out with her eyes.
“Here.” He handed the water bottle to Leese and, being sure to draw everyone’s attention first, strode over to her.
“Stack.” Her smile flickered with uncertainty. “What’s—”
Dipping in for a thorough kiss, he stole her gasp, nudged her lips apart, and eased his tongue in to tease. Because he was sweaty, he kept his body from touching hers. But that didn’t mean he had to make the kiss quick, or easy.
She tasted so good, he almost forgot the purpose of this display: making it clear to one and all that she was his, and only his.
When she reached for him, her small, cool hands coming to his hot, damp shoulders, he ended things.
Her eyes, unfocused, stared at him as she licked her lips.
Such an invitation. “Hey.”
Took her a second, and she nodded. “Hey.” She glanced around, and a sly smile replaced some of the dazed lust. “Was that for the spectators?”
No reason to lie about it. “The male spectators, yeah.”
“Wow.” She pushed back her hoodie, her mouth still playing with a smile. “I’m flattered.”
Flattered? “Come again?”
Her eyes went heavy, her smile sly. “Oh, I will. Tonight.” She went on tiptoe to peck his mouth. “With you.”
Damn. Way to turn the tables on him.
“So.” As she shed the hoodie, she eyed his arm. “What happened?”
“Long, boring story.” The last thing he wanted was her involved. “It’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
She brushed her fingertips over his forearm in a butterfly caress...that he felt in his dick. “Yeah.”
“It’s awfully colorful.”
“Just bruising. No big deal.” He expected her to fuss, but he should have known better. So far Vanity had never done the expected.
“I’m glad.” She checked the big clock on the wall. “Thanks for the wonderful greeting, but now I need to get my gear stored and get to it.” She patted his chest and walked off.
Stack stood there, admiring the departing shot of her ass in the leggings—until he realized a lot of other people were watching, too. He mean-mugged some new guys, then Brand and Miles, and lastly Leese.
Leese just grinned, the dick.
An hour later, Vanity was finishing up on the elliptical when she got a call. She turned off the machine and stepped off before retrieving her cell from a wrist strap.
One-handed, she fetched a towel and patted her face while listening to whoever had called. When her brows pulled together, and she separated from the crowd, moving to a corner on the other side of the registration desk, he called it quits on his own workout and joined her.
She didn’t appear bothered that he’d invaded her space or that he was listening in.
Smiling at him, she spoke into the cell, saying, “Could I think about it, please?...Tomorrow? That soon...All right. I’ll call you back in the morning...Yes, thank you... Okay, you, too.” She disconnected and put the phone back in the wrist holder. “You all done?”
Curiosity gnawed on him. “Yeah. I’m supposed to help teach the self-defense class, though.” Mostly he’d volunteered since Vanity was taking the class.
“With that arm,” she said, appearing concerned, “you should maybe sit it out.”
“It’s fine.” He got her back on track. “Important call?”
“What? Oh, no. Not important. Just...” She bit her lip. “Another offer for modeling.”
“Yeah?” It distracted him, seeing how good she looked sweaty. She’d braided her long hair, but loose wisps clung to her damp neck and temples. Every breath filled his head with her intensified scent. “Where at this time?”
She didn’t meet his gaze. “Remember that pajama ad?”
“At the lingerie store.” He didn’t like where this was going. “Yeah?”
She cleared her throat. “Right. Same place.”
A sort of edgy possessiveness crawled over him. “More pajamas?” He hoped.
“Not this time, no.” Somewhat defiantly, she met his gaze. “This would be tasteful underthings.”
“Underthings?”
Hand in the air, she gestured. “Yeah, you know. Bras and panties.”
Stack just stared at her.
“It’s a new line of animal prints. Really pretty.”
There were no words. Vanity in slinky little panties in a magazine where everyone could see her? He shook his head but stayed silent, unsure what he should or could say.
She slipped in closer, and now that they were both sweaty, he didn’t mind. “Do you think I should—”
“No.”
“No?”
Damn it, he didn’t want to admit how much it mattered to him. “Do you want to?”
“I’m not sure. I enjoy modeling. It’s fun.” She scrunched up her nose. “But I have to admit, I’m a little squeamish about everyone seeing me in a bra and panties. I mean, it’d cover as much as a bikini, and being from California, I wore a lot of bikinis. But still...”
He nodded, agreed. “Still.”
Looking beyond him at the crowded rec center, she said, “You think the guys here—”
“Yes.” And then he added, “Definitely.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Didn’t need to.” The dam burst, and somehow, he couldn’t get himself to shut up. “No, you shouldn�
��t model lingerie even though—maybe especially because—you’ll look amazing in it, and, yes, every dude here would know, would have a copy of the mag, and would probably keep it under his fucking pillow so he could—”
She smashed a hand over his mouth, red-faced but laughing.
Stack bit her finger, making her jump. Holding her face, he leaned down, his forehead to hers. “You’re about the hottest woman I’ve ever known.”
“Looks shouldn’t matter so much.”
“They don’t.” Not entirely, anyway. “When it comes to you, I like the whole package.”
Pleased, she smiled up at him.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re gorgeous.” He pressed his mouth to hers for a firm kiss. “I don’t mean to overstep, but damn, darlin’, I don’t want every guy here ogling you.”
“Honestly, I don’t really want that either.”
Thank God. “So you’ll skip the panty pics?”
Laughing, she nodded. “Yes, I’ll skip them. I wasn’t all that enthusiastic about it anyway.”
Stack gave quick thought to leaving the rec center early. He wanted her. Right now. He was considering ways to convince her when the front door opened.
Standing in the doorway, holding it open and letting in a gust of cold air, Armie spoke to two women. They were both cute, one with short, spiky red hair, the other a blonde with purple streaks. “Go on now,” Armie told the ladies. “I have work to do.”
“You promise you’ll show up?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He started to ease the door shut on them. “I’ll be there.”
“Tomorrow, eight o’clock.”
He tapped his temple. “Locked away the details. I won’t forget.” The door was almost closed.
“She’s going to love it! Thank you!”
“My pleasure.” The door finally shut.
Through the glass, both women blew him kisses. Laughing, Armie turned, and realized Stack and Vanity had been listening in.
“Hey, Stack, Vee. What’s up?”
Surprised, Vanity said, “You changed your hair!”
Until she mentioned it, Stack hadn’t noticed. But yeah, Armie’s usually bleached hair was closer to a real color now. Sort of a light brown.