Jacked

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Jacked Page 17

by Tina Reber


  And then that girl at the notary office trying to flirt with me with Erin standing right there? Unbelievable the way some of them behave with no shame. Hell if it didn’t make my ego swell a bit when Erin glared her down. But there was still plenty within my control and sensing her independent eagerness to let herself out my truck was something that would not happen on my watch. Kind of woman like her deserved to be treated like a lady.

  “Hang tight a second,” I muttered, hoping she’d keep her lovely heart-shaped ass planted in the passenger seat without me having to repeat myself. She looked confused again as I spied her through the windshield, but I figured sooner or later she’d catch on to the way things are.

  I held her hand, helping her climb out, watching those incredible legs and heeled boots unfurl to the ground. Some men love boobs, and as much as I loved to palm tit, I was a legs and ass man to the core. Visions of those luscious legs wrapped in some of my quarter inch red rope, trussed up like two candy canes and spread open for my pleasure made my dick twitch. I’d keep her tied up all damn day and fuck her when and how I wanted to then. Patience, Trent.

  “Thank you,” she said with a shy smile and it was easy to read that she was a bit uncomfortable with me, which made her all the more enticing.

  We were ushered by a server I’d seen in here before to a booth in the back. Before Erin sat, I helped to remove her coat then nudged her gently, making sure I got the side facing the door. She arched a questioning brow when I stepped around her, then she narrowed those perplexed blue eyes as she slid farther into the booth.

  “I never sit with my back to the door,” I muttered, trying to explain away her confusion.

  “Phobia?” she asked casually, dropping her purse down next to her.

  Maybe, more like vigilance. “I don’t like surprises.”

  She turned, checking the door once more. “What kind of surprises are you not expecting?”

  “The robbery kind.” Or the ex-lover kind, but I kept that one to myself.

  “Ah,” she said, understanding seeming to dawn until her eyes narrowed on me once more, inspecting my chest. “Are you…?” She started to point but quickly withdrew her hand and then leaned over the table, whispering, “Is that a gun under your coat?”

  I had my personal Glock holstered under my left armpit since I had picked her up at her place. I guess she could see it now, now that I’d unzipped my leather. “Yes,” I acknowledged, wondering where she was going with this.

  “Why?” She motioned, pointing at it again.

  “I’m a cop?” I figured that should be self-explanatory.

  She fidgeted. “Yeah, but you’re off duty.”

  She had no reason to be worried. “So?”

  “So?” She looked sort of stunned. “Isn’t it illegal to just carry a weapon into a bar?”

  I tried to harness my slight annoyance at her naivety. “I’m a cop twenty-four/seven, Doc. I’m just off-duty. I never leave home without it.” That answer didn’t seem to be adequate for her, considering she was frowning at me. I had to ask. “Does it bother you?”

  She traced her fingernail over some imaginary pattern in the wooden tabletop and then picked at the corner of the menu. “I’m not sure.”

  I set my forearms on the table, glancing at my bandaged hand for a second, knowing how much danger surrounds each and every one of us every day, though most folks walked around impervious to it all. Still, she’d given me a half-assed noncommittal answer, probably treading lightly around me. I had to shut down her unease.

  I captured the tip of her finger with mine, stopping her fidgeting, and her mind from drifting to a wrong conclusion. “I’ve been a cop for ten years. I’ve seen enough in that time to know that I will never be caught off guard or unprepared, especially around here.”

  For reasons I could not explain, I needed her to know she could trust me, especially since I gave her plenty of reasons to be leery of me.

  “You ever able to slip out of doctor mode?”

  She brushed more of her fingers over mine, hesitantly at first.

  “No, not really.” She smiled.

  We were testing the waters, feeling the boundaries, and if the sensations coursing through me from just holding the tips of her fingers were any indication, I wanted to grab hold and pull her into the deep end with me. I had to constantly remind myself to keep it in check, even though my body was pushing forward. Rushing into another huge head fuck with someone was nothing I wanted to jump into lightly. Been there, done that.

  “I see your point and I understand your reasons, but I’ve also seen the destruction a bullet can cause to the human body and it’s not pretty. Too many people end up being innocent victims. We treat a lot of gunshot wounds at University. So much of it could be avoided. It’s senseless.”

  I pulled more of her hand into mine, relishing the connection that I’d finally found a woman who understood. “People make bad decisions every day, but if it comes down to them or us, I choose us.”

  The moment she sucked in the smallest of gasps between those enticing lips I knew I’d fucked up. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

  I could see as clear as day those womanly wheels turning at lightning speed, probably forming all sorts of ideas. I had to fix it before she started envisioning me in a damn tuxedo.

  “I mean, not us, like in us-us, I mean us as in normal citizens. You know.”

  She gave me a nod, a forced smile of acknowledgment, and a “Got it.” And that’s when I lost her hand and her attention to the menu. “Mmm, all of this food looks good.”

  I slid my plastic menu off the tabletop and congratulated myself for being a dick.

  Erin glanced at her watch and then went back to scrutinizing the menu. “I’m running low on time, so I’ll have to get something that won’t take too long to make. I still have to put that new plate on my car before I leave for work tonight.”

  Yep, you’re officially a dick if she thinks that she’s going to be putting that plate on herself. “I’ll put it on for you.”

  She disagreed, tossing those long locks of dirty-blonde hair, still maintaining the “it’s all cool” act. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. You’ve helped me enough for one day. I can handle a few screws.”

  I had no doubt she could but her sweet tone had a bit of a bite to it, and though I couldn’t fault her for it, it still ticked me off. “Erin…” I waited until she peeked around the menu to finally look at me, “I’m putting the plate on your car.”

  Her spine stiffened and I had no doubt she was about to give me a hard time, but my attention diverted to the big guy wearing the white chef coat headed my way, effectively halting her rebuttal. His familiar face was grinning widely at me, pulling my gaze from her, creating a wide grin of my own.

  “Adam! Yo, dude!” Kip roared, clasping my hand and giving me a one-shoulder friendly bump. “Amber said you were sitting out here at a table. No shit. How you doing, man?”

  It’d been too long since I’d seen my old friend. “I’m doing all right, Kip. Good to see you.”

  Didn’t take him long to eye up Erin, still smiling like the overgrown jock he was who’d taken one too many tackles out on the field. Thankfully he masked his surprise at seeing someone other than Nikki sitting across from me. I was in no mood to have to explain things. He reached to shake her hand. “Hi! Todd Kilpatrick, but my friends call me Kip.”

  “Erin,” she said, dazzling him with her electric smile. “Nice to meet you, Kip.”

  I was glad that handshake between them didn’t linger, as Kip appeared to be at a loss for words. Ten more seconds though and I would have had to intervene. “Kip’s dad owns this place and he and I went to school together.”

  “That’s right. Played football together for many years, too. So where you been hiding out, Adam? Haven’t seen you in here in months.”

  I glanced away from Erin to give Kip my private annoyance for pointing that out, while hoping for a decent response to manifest itself out of thin air. I c
ouldn’t bring myself to be honest, because blurting that I’ve made a life rule to avoid all of the places that remind me of my ex would be stupid and cruel. So I opted for simple. “Been busy.”

  Kip nodded. “I bet. I’ve seen the show.” His quick pass over Erin told me he was measuring her reaction, too, trying to figure her out. “You guys are taking over the city, getting a lot of attention. Excellent. So, things good there?”

  Yeah, I get to take shit criminals off the streets and the public gets insight, seeing exactly what we go through to accomplish that. “I can’t complain.”

  “Maggie was all beside herself when she saw the article on you guys in People.” Kip put his hands on his hips, taking a stand that showed he was planning on hanging a bit. “Maggie’s my wife,” he said to Erin, clearing her confusion. “You’re a big-time celebrity now, ya bastard.” He smacked my shoulder. “Just don’t forget your roots.”

  “That’ll never happen.”

  “Good. So what’s up with the rest of the Trent boys? Your brothers all doing good?”

  I found talking about them was an easier topic. “Mike is still in Florida but Jason’s overseas again.” I eyed Erin, watching her eyes widen. “He’s a chopper medic in the army.”

  I felt her foot slide up against mine under the table while her soft pink lips parted, silently giving me the message that I had her support and comfort. Damn if it didn’t feel good, too.

  Knowing my youngest brother was a world apart in some god-forsaken hellhole was like a knife to the gut, slowing twisting in me every day. I saw her hand start to reach across the table but she checked herself and flinched back. It was all very subtle, nothing that the unobservant would have noticed. I was glad she wasn’t in a rush to share public displays of affection, especially in front of one of my friends. She was so different from the other women I’d been accustomed to.

  And with that, images of Nikki yelling at my brother Jason, calling him a stupid asshole to his face for being enlisted, drifted through my thoughts. How she got up in his business, preaching and arguing with him about how he should give a shit about what was happening here in this country instead of fighting for other’s rights. The two of them didn’t speak to each other for a long time after that, and my family surely didn’t want me to bring her around anymore.

  Erin adjusted her foot that she was resting on mine, breaking my thoughts, rubbing as if she were nuzzling me. It took everything within me not to reach across the table and acknowledge her private messages in my own way. Her inner beauty was shining through, bright and clear, blinding me with her generous gifts. I’d be willing to bet the farm that Erin would never be the type to challenge one of my brothers or publicly humiliate them in front of the rest of my family on their choices.

  “Shit,” Kip breathed. “Doing another tour?”

  I nodded.

  “Afghanistan?”

  Jason’s orders were actually classified. “Some shithole like that.”

  “God, I hope he’s safe. Middle East. That is not a place to be these days.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered.

  Kip shuttered. “Damn. Well, we’ll pray for him. Oh, and speaking of the Trent brothers, my wife showed me a picture of Kyle the other day with that blonde actress… what the hell’s her name from that movie? The one that all the women are going ape shit about? Aw hell, I can’t remember.”

  Hell if I knew either. While I could only handle one girl at a time, Kyle liked variety. One thing was for certain—Kyle and I both had a weakness for blondes.

  “He still in California?”

  I gazed back at the gorgeous blonde sitting across from me, giving me her undivided focus and attention.

  “He’s all over the place, Kip. It’s hard to keep up with him.” I couldn’t hold back my smile. My brothers might be dickheads sometimes, but they were still my brothers and we were all tight, even though we didn’t take a lot of time to call each other. “My brother Kyle is a bodyguard. He’s had a few high-profile clients lately.”

  “What, like celebrities?” she asked.

  I nodded, aware of her tempered reaction.

  “Wow,” she uttered, giving me a warm smile. “Sounds like a very interesting career. I bet he has great stories.”

  I was glad to see her thoroughly interested but maintaining her enthusiasm. Last girl I told that to lurched over the table, pawing at me with such fangirl exuberance to find out dirty details, I was afraid, not to mention instantly turned off by it.

  But not Erin. She had class.

  My eyes focused on her sexy mouth, the pit of my gut sparked an all too familiar fire of want, and I found myself wishing Kip would get lost. “Probably, but we don’t talk a lot about it. It’s his business and he’s usually pretty tight-lipped. His job comes with pages of non-disclosure agreements, so he’s not one for long-winded discussions.”

  Erin readjusted in her seat, and that’s when I lost her foot that was touching mine. I wished she’d put it back where it was. “Is Jason the one that’s older than you?”

  I shook my head, stretching my leg her way, trying not to kick her by accident. “No, he’s the baby of the family. Mike’s the oldest, then me, Kyle, and then Jason.”

  “What does Michael do?”

  Get’s into deeper shit than I do with drug cartels? “He’s a police officer too, outa Miami.”

  Kip gave me another slap on my shoulder. “Badasses, all of them. Hey sorry to hear about your dad, man.”

  I let his condolences roll off my shoulder with a nod and took them for what they were—Kip being decent and respectful and a friend who still gave a shit.

  “Is he doing better?”

  Getting that frantic call from my mother last summer was something I could do without remembering. It was also one of the things that brought everything to a head. “Yeah. He’s got a bit of a slur yet when he talks but it’s a lot better and, well, he’s still breathing.” I met Erin’s concerned stare. “He had a small stroke.”

  “Shit,” Kip breathed out. “Looks like you’ve had your plate full, man. No wonder I haven’t seen you around.”

  Considering I was the only son in town when it happened, that was putting it lightly.

  “Adam’s dad coached varsity ball our senior year. He’s a tough son of a bitch,” Kip said with a grin to Erin.

  Erin brushed her fingers over the scar on top of my right hand, giving me her comfort again, but looking at that disfigured line that zigzagged across my skin was an unwelcomed reminder of being on the receiving end of his belt the night Nikki’s cop father brought me home butt-ass naked. To say my father had a firm hand was an understatement. Raising four hell-raising boys took its toll on the old man.

  Erin’s face fell when she saw what I was focused on and I could feel her wanting to give me her sympathy too, though I sure as hell didn’t need it. The shit I went through to become a man wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

  “How’s your mom holding up?” Kip continued.

  “She’s got her hands full with him being home all the time. And it doesn’t help that she’s constantly worrying about all of us, either.”

  Kip nodded and pulled out his phone. “That’s what moms do, man. Hey, I’ve got to get back into the kitchen, but it was great seeing you. You still at the same cell number? We need to keep in touch.”

  By the time the girl took our order and we got some soft drinks served to us, Erin had gone fairly quiet, eying me warily.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” she said, tossing the topic back onto the table. “Was it recent?”

  I felt my jaw clench, recalling that horrible moment. It happened right before Nikki and I split up. What she had done while I was dealing with one of scariest moments of my life was unforgivable. “It was last summer.” June 18th to be exact, in the morning. “I was headed home from work. My mom called to tell me that she was having trouble rousing my dad from bed.”

  Just saying the words caused a shudder to roll down my
spine. I’d never felt so helpless in all my life. And just when I needed someone the most, Nikki dropped the bottom out from under me. I know most of it was my fault, but damn.

  I glanced back up at Erin, whose wheels were turning with what I could only surmise was filled with medical textbook passages, hospital experience, mixed in with a lot of womanly concern.

  “I’ve treated a few stroke patients,” she said assuredly. “Do you know if it was from a blockage or an aneurysm?”

  Even though we were talking about my father, hence my inner wounds again, I had to hold back a smile. Her doctoring was cute as shit. “Blockage. High cholesterol runs in the family.”

  Her head popped up, scanning the entire area. “Maybe we should change our order then. You shouldn’t be eating fried foods.”

  “Erin…” I grabbed her hand before she had a chance to even think about darting into the kitchen. “I’m good.”

  That brought her down a notch and her butt back down to the bench seat, but I still felt like I needed to hold her in place.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind eating something else.”

  And just like that I thought about eating her—her lips, her neck, feeling the heels of her feet dig into my shoulders as I ate my fill. She’d wiggle in my hands, on my tongue. I felt the blood flow surge; my boys down below definitely wanted in on that entire scene. I cleared my throat. “You’d forgo eating gravy fries for me? For real?”

  “Yeah. Please. Let’s order something else that’s healthier. Maybe the waitress can bring the menus back.”

  My chest tightened, pressing the emotions up into my neck. Could she really be that concerned for me? “We don’t need menus. You wanted gravy fries—we’re eating gravy fries.”

  “Adam, I’m serious.”

  “So am I. I swear… Healthy as a horse.” Instantly, I had to fight back images of her riding me. Her hands pressing into my chest as I palmed her ass, guiding her up and down on me. Fuck. I shook my head. “I get regular checkups and donate blood every time we have a blood drive. My numbers are good, Doc.”

 

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