Rough and Ready (Outlaw Warriors)

by Cathleen Ross

  “Beer?” DeLance asked.

  “Troy, it’s eight in the morning,” Stacey said. “Would you prefer a coffee, Hugo? I’ve made dough for beignets. Pregnancy has made me addicted to cooking.”

  “Homemade beignets,” Hugo groaned with pleasure. “White coffee would be great, too, thanks.”

  Stacey turned to Troy.

  “Coffee, darling,” Troy said.

  Troy got his pa a beer, and they walked out onto the back deck that overlooked the water and sat on some fancy cane chairs that hadn’t been there on Hugo’s last visit.

  “Well done infiltrating the Banderos,” Joe said, saluting him with his beer before taking a sip.

  “I’m not in. I’m a fucking bodyguard,” Hugo said. “You never said anything about a daughter.”

  “We didn’t know she’d be there,” Troy said.

  “She said her mother was taken out by a car.” Hugo looked from Troy to Joe. He knew better than to accuse.

  “Wasn’t us,” Joe said. “No sense in starting a war on the soft targets. Puts our own in danger.”

  “Didn’t seem your style,” Hugo said to Troy.

  “Don’t touch women,” Troy growled. “Too precious.” He got up to take a tray of beignets from Stacey and put it on the small coffee table.

  Hugo took one, bit into it, and decided he’d died and gone to heaven, despite burning his tongue. “Your wife can cook.”

  Troy’s eyes lit up, and he beamed. “Stacey blames it on the pregnancy, but she adores cooking. Has done since I met her.”

  Hugo couldn’t get over the change in DeLance. He was too used to him fighting, drinking, and whoring. “You’ll be a lard-ass next.”

  Joe laughed.

  “She’s baking a cake a day,” Troy said, “and I know a jealous dick when I see one.”

  Stacey approached them carrying two scalding cups of chicory coffee and put them on the coffee table. “I’m heading to work now. Bye, Hugo. Nice to meet you. I hope you’ll come and have dinner so I can get to know you better.”

  Hugo dusted the icing off his fingers, rose, and shook her hand. Troy walked his wife to the door, helped her into her jacket, and kissed her goodbye. Hugo stared gobsmacked at his friend after she left. He’d fought with Troy, killed with the bastard, even fucked in the same room when accommodation had proved tight. He’d never seen him display tenderness.

  Troy must have seen the bamboozlement in his expression. Years together had made them tight. “I don’t miss the army. This is better.”

  “What about the action?” Hugo asked. The excitement. The living on the razor’s edge of death.

  “Got more than I need going on right now,” Troy said.

  Contentment. That was what it was. His growling, animal-like buddy had settled. Unbelievable. It left Hugo disturbed.

  “We have a big fucking problem,” Joe said, getting straight down to business.

  “My intel has told me Glass has paid for the grenade launcher,” Troy said.

  “The Banderos president, right?” Hugo asked.

  “Yeah,” Joe said, making a cutting line down his cheek to indicate Glass’s scar.

  “We need to know when it’s arriving,” Troy said, “before it’s used on us.”

  “Why haven’t you taken him out? You would have exterminated a threat like that in Iraq,” Hugo said. Fuck! What was he saying? Alice would be devastated. He couldn’t think like that now he was home.

  Troy gave him a long stare, which made him want to shift in his seat like an uncomfortable teenager. “In America, I live by the law.”

  “You blew the Banderos clubhouse up before. That’s hardly within the law,” Hugo argued.

  “Just get me the information I need, then get out of New Orleans. I don’t want a stray Banderos bullet piercing your brain.”

  “Can you negotiate with the Banderos?” Hugo asked skeptically. His buddy was ruthless, talking not his best skill.

  “I tried to bring the Banderos to the negotiating table. I heard some of the men were open to it, but Glass wasn’t having it,” Joe said. “The only thing they respect is a show of force.”

  “So I’m dealing with them my way. We control their ability to get weapons,” Troy said. He looked over the balcony at the water, a frown creasing his brow.

  Hugo followed his gaze to the sparkling water below where a massive alligator lay sunbaking on the rock wall. Psycho. Troy’s pet. Troy had no fear, and that’s what Hugo enjoyed about his like-minded friend. Taming the deadly creature was a game to Troy. Although he was still a hard, lethal man, he had a calmness about him that hadn’t existed before.

  “When I came back, I had to change how I thought. I don’t kill anymore,” Troy said.

  Psycho shifted and made a grunting noise. The dangerous fucker looked plump and shiny, content in its environment, like it had had a good feed.

  “My best-trained man is a pussy,” Joe said, picking up another beignet. “Married a great gal, though, and Georgia is so happy about the baby coming. I never thought this mean bastard would settle.”

  Troy shrugged and finished his coffee, clearly not bothering to rise to the bait. Instead, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, round object, holding it out on his hand for Hugo.

  Hugo instantly recognized the high-tech listening and tracking device.

  Troy leaned forward. “Plant this if you get the opportunity. I want this problem over.”

  “An intercept won’t stop Glass if his goal is to destroy you,” Hugo said.

  “I made a promise to myself and to my wife. I won’t kill anymore, but there are other ways to fix this.”

  Fucking drug pusher deserved death. Hugo shuddered. He thought about Alice. Again. She’d be devastated if her father died. He had to shift his thinking, too. “Like what?”

  “Who do you think fed the police information on the Banderos meth lab?” Troy raised his eyebrows and grinned. “That cleaned up half of them. I’m going to bring them to their knees. I want to live in peace. My wife, my baby, my family and club, that’s all I care about now.”

  Hugo stood, took the tracker, and slid it in his pocket. It made him uneasy in his skin seeing the change in his buddy. He seemed to have lost his love of adventure. Was that what marriage did to a man? Lucky he wasn’t the settling kind.

  Caring about Alice was like having a vise around his nuts, but he owed Troy. “Consider it done.”

  Chapter Ten

  Alice saw Hugo’s truck when he pulled up in the hospital patients’ drop-off zone dead on seven, just as he said he would. She almost skipped to the car, she was so pleased to see him. He leaned over and kissed her full on the lips.

  Possession. Her belly fluttered. Her rule of not showing affection in public floated out of her mind. His kiss did something to her that awakened every cell, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed his lips harder to hers, pushing her lips open, his tongue swiping along the inner rim of her bottom lip. He had a beautiful mouth, and he knew how to use it. Her hand strayed down his muscular torso onto his lap. His cock was thick and hard.

  A car horn signaled, and they broke apart.

  The car had its blinker on, waiting for their spot. The passenger wound down his window. “Get a room.”

  “Asshole. He can wait.” He started up the car, not making an effort to put his truck into gear.

  She put her hand on his arm. “It’s a hospital. Be courteous. That person may have a health concern.”

  “I’ll give him a health problem,” he grumbled, pulling out of his parking spot.

  “I guess patience wasn’t big in your line of work?”

  “Our team was nicknamed ‘shock and awe.’ What do you think?” He gave her such a roguish grin, it thrilled her right to her core.

  I bet he gave the enemy hell. “Every nurse on my ward thinks you’re my new boyfriend.”

  He smiled wide this time, his teeth perfectly straight and white. “What did you say to that, gorgeous?”


  “I kept with my side of the story that you’re a friend who is staying for a short time, which thanks to your kiss this morning, no one believes. It’s served to intrigue everyone I work with.”

  “You don’t owe anyone explanations.” He took off down the hospital driveway and turned left onto the street.

  “Spoken like a man who has never worked with lots of women.” At six feet five and as handsome as a screen star on steroids, he was going to get noticed.

  He shrugged. “You should be grateful.”

  “What about?”

  “Boyfriend’s less controversial than being your bodyguard.”

  She thought about it. “True. I guess we can continue the act, but don’t push it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You upset Wayne today, standing over him like some thug.”

  “Good.”

  “Don’t do it again. I don’t want anything compromising my job.”

  He scowled, and his eyes narrowed.

  “He asked if you’re my boyfriend, and of course, I said no. The kicker is he made a phone call, and I’m on the course.”

  His gaze slid to her, the tension palpable, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Thought you were going to make your own phone call.”

  “I did. They said they’d lost my application. I wanted to tear my hair out, but I had a copy of my computerized receipt. You see, I was ready for them. I was prepared to fight.”

  “So how did the asshole doctor get involved?” He braked hard at a set of traffic lights, and she jerked forward, constrained by the seat belt.

  She glanced over at him. His face had become hard, all angles and planes, and his mouth had formed a thin line. “Are you jealous?”

  “While I’m with you, don’t even think about being with that jerk.”

  “This isn’t a relationship.”

  “It is what it is. I don’t share. I made that clear.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t want to share you, either.”

  “Good.” The word came out as a grunt, but it made her happy. Her last relationship was no more than snatched moments, when she thought about it. One thing about Hugo, he made his feelings clear. She knew this wasn’t a forever after. So long as she wasn’t stupid enough to fall for him.

  “So I was sitting by Momma’s bedside in my lunch break. Anyway, Wayne came in when I was on my phone and overheard me arguing with the university.”

  “So now he’s the doctor on the trauma ward, too?”

  “Of course not. Wayne cares about Momma. I’ll give him that. Anyway, he found me later and said that my application had been magically ‘found’ and I’d been accepted.” She clapped her hands together, too overjoyed to worry about the change in Hugo’s mood.

  “What does that involve?”

  “Two nights a week, starting next week, and plenty of online work. Dr. Waters will be doing some of the lectures, so I want you to back off. No looming over him. Okay?”

  “I will if the guy’s a prick.”

  “Hugo! I won’t have you as my bodyguard if you do anything to the doctor.”

  He gave her a sideways glance. “You think you have a choice?”

  There was a blackness in his eyes she hadn’t seen before, but she was used to hard men. “You are here to protect me against a possible attack from whoever hurt Momma. Dr. Waters is not a threat.”

  He took an alternative route, and she realized he wasn’t taking her home when he pulled over and parked in Frenchmen Street, a popular area for restaurants and music, close to Bourbon Street but without the glitzy neon lights.

  “Why have you stopped?”

  “I don’t want to fight. I have a job to do, and I’m doing it, but we need to have some fun, too. I’m going to buy you dinner, and we’re going to play a game.” The expression on his face reminded her of his words this morning. I’m going to wipe that jerk out of your mind.

  “What? Now?”

  “Now.” He reached behind him and handed her a paper bag. The name of a quirky antique clothing shop in the French Quarter was written on the side.

  A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. She rarely received gifts. Unable to resist, she took the bag, opened it, and pulled out a long flimsy silver evening gown that looked like a speakeasy soiree dress from the twenties. It had ornate silver beading that appeared to be hand-stitched. On closer inspection of the label, she saw a name of an early designer she recognized. She gasped. “It’s vintage. This must have cost you a fortune.”

  He shrugged, but despite his lackadaisical air he watched her intently, his deep green eyes focused on her like a big cat after prey.

  The sheer fabric flowed through her fingers like silk. It was almost see-through. “Can we discuss this first?”

  “It’s not going to be fun if you know everything we’re going to do. You know the rules of how we play.”

  “I never thought we’d do anything outside of my apartment. You know how I feel about my reputation. What if someone from work sees me?”

  He gave her a sardonic smile, which suggested she was a babe in the woods. “We’re going to a club. Wear this dress and do what you’re told. Anytime you don’t want to play say, ‘stop.’”

  “What kind of club?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Wait and find out.”

  “I’m nervous.” And excited and scared he was taking this too far. Terrified she might like it.

  “You know I’ll look after you.”

  “We’d better not get arrested,” she grumbled. There was something wild about him. Something dangerous, and it attracted her like a moth to a flame, but everyone knew what happened to the moth.

  His eyes gleamed. “Since when do people get arrested in the French Quarter for showing their body?”

  “The stupid ones who flash their boobs at the cops.”

  “Then don’t do that.”

  Alice tested the material under her finger, trying to ascertain whether her underwear would show through. Normally, she’d wear a slip under this sort of expensive eveningwear, not that she had clothing this upmarket. Not on a nurse’s budget.

  “Take everything off and put the dress on.”

  “My underwear, too?” she squawked.

  “You heard what I said.”

  A fleeting thought of the movie Pretty Woman came to mind. An evening out wearing this divine dress and Hugo, darkly sophisticated, and sex. Fantastic sex of the sort she’d never have again when he left.

  She glanced at her bodyguard with appreciation. Don’t fall for him. Instead of his T-shirt and cargo pants, he wore a pressed black button-down shirt, pitch-colored trousers with spit-polished dress shoes. Yet despite the elegant state of his dress, with his stern expression, there was something lethal about him. She reached out and touched his cheek to reassure herself that the gentle Hugo would come back.

  The hardness left his expression. “You okay with this, Alice?”

  His cheek was smooth as if he’d just shaved, and her hand smelled of his aftershave when she withdrew it. Temptation. He makes my panties wet. To think I’d never been into sex before this.

  “Yes. I’m good to play.” It surprised her that she trusted him in this warped situation, but she did. She slipped out of her shoes, underwear, and pants first, then pulled off her tunic, conscious that he was watching her. Hugo leaned over and unsnapped her bra, his gaze falling hungrily on her breasts. He desired her with an intensity she’d never experienced before.

  She pulled the dress over her body, noticing the way it slithered down her like a second skin. She shifted, drawing it down under her bottom so that it finished at her calves. “This is the most beautiful and sexy dress I’ve ever owned. I was worried it might be too tight.”

  He gave her a devastating smile. “I could always arrange some air holes.” He flexed his fingers.

  “No way. I’ve never owned anything this special.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “You really are a man of secre
ts. Tell me, is there a slip to go underneath, somewhere?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Lost in time.”

  “Sure it was.” She laughed.

  He reached behind his truck seat and pulled out another bag. This time there was a pair of closed-toe silver satin pumps with an ankle strap and three-inch heels.

  “Oh Hugo.” She clapped her hands. Pulling her dress up over her knees to her thigh, she put one on, testing the fit. Surprisingly comfortable, considering the heel. She slid on the other and did up the straps, before reaching for her purse and finding her brush. Hugo took it from her.

  “I don’t want your hair tidy.” With more gentleness than the tone of his voice implied, he pulled the hair tie from her bun and ruffled her hair so that it fell all the way down her back in waves.

  She shivered with pleasure as his fingers touched her scalp. “I thought about your touch all day. You do something to me.”

  He swallowed, his look hungry. He never uttered endearments, words that showed this meant something, but he made her feel beautiful. She could see appreciation in his eyes. “See that marketplace alongside the long stone wall? I want you to walk along the street, bend closer to observe the paintings, then keep walking.”

  How did his rough sex fantasy fit into this picture?

  She looked out of the truck window. The street he was talking about was closed to traffic. There was a night market selling artwork, beads, and bric-a-brac. Sparkling lights were strung from the top of the wall to the opposite storefronts, casting a delightful glow. She examined her dress. “I can see my nipples under this fabric.” She stared farther down, pressing the dress against her skin. “And my pubic hair.” This man will be the ruin of me, but the sex is too good, too exciting. I don’t want to stop.

  He licked his lips. “Keep doing that and we won’t leave the truck.”

  She pressed two fingers to his lips then opened the truck door. He stepped out, too, and strode around to help her down. She gripped his arm. “Are you going to walk with me?”