by Joanna Wylde
Except …
Now that Jess had taken off, it really was the perfect time to start expanding my business. The strip club would be a hell of an account to do it with. I could just suck it up, right?
Yes. I’d be damned if I’d walk away from that much money. Does that sound mercenary?
I didn’t care.
So what if Reese Hayes was pretty and I wanted to have sex with him? I wanted a million dollars and a house on the lake, and that wouldn’t be happening any time soon, either. Reese had all kinds of women lined up to sleep with, ten a day if he wanted that many. He’d probably lost interest in me already, and I should be happy about it. Clarified things. Didn’t mean I shouldn’t do my best to get and keep the club accounts.
You have to separate business from pleasure if you want a Miata.
Exactly. That’s what I’d do. Pull my act together and—no, pull my shit together and send Jessica her clothing with a smile. I’d be a support to Mellie and be empowered and self-sufficient. I didn’t need a man, but if I wanted one I’d take him and use him and then pass him along without a second thought, because I’d become a sophisticated, modern woman if it killed me.
Sure.
And I would lose ten pounds and age backward, too.
Right after I learned to fly my invisible jet.
Thirty minutes later the roast was in the oven and I was setting out frozen rolls to rise. I’d had a second, strictly medicinal shot of vodka, and while I wasn’t exactly buzzed, I was feeling a little more balanced about things. Of course, dumping yellow food coloring in the back of the downstairs toilet tank and pouring vinegar in his milk helped restore that balance … I also loosened the lid on the salt shaker.
Why did I do these things?
Probably best not to examine that too closely.
Reese emerged from the back addition to lean against the door frame. He wore a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, his big, beefy arms crossing his chest with casual laziness. I refused to let my eyes linger on his muscles, although I did let myself check out his feet.
There’s nothing sexier than a big, tough man walking around barefoot. I’d always had a thing for it.
“Sorry about that earlier,” he said, although I could tell from his tone that he wasn’t sorry one little bit. “I had no idea you’d come out to the house so early. I thought I had a couple more hours.”
Wow, he sounded almost sincere.
“I was planning to get done before you got home from work,” I said, turning away from him to fuss with the rolls. “What are your hours?”
“Irregular,” he said. “I’m the boss, remember? I work when I’m needed or when I want to.”
I sensed him moving toward me, so I turned away from the rolls and headed over to the fridge to put some space between us. Pulling open the door I studied the interior, trying to figure out what I should do next. Sadly, the beer, ketchup, and jar of pickles facing me had no insights to offer.
Turning and looking at him wasn’t an option.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scratch him for screwing that other woman or jump his bones. Either way I’d have to scrub him down with bleach, just to be safe, because he was all covered in her cooties.
“Let’s put together a schedule,” I suggested, studying the expiration date on a container of yogurt as if my life depended on it. “So I won’t run into you here at the house.”
“Scared?” he asked, and his voice was right behind me. He reached around and shut the fridge, resting one hand on either side of my body, trapping me. Every instinct I had said I should create a diversion and run like hell, but I turned to face him instead.
I didn’t want to let him think he was right, no matter how hard that might be.
Professional. You are a professional and you don’t play games.
I offered a bland smile and focused on a cabinet handle across the room, exactly two inches above his broad right shoulder.
Perfect.
“I just don’t want to get in your way,” I said evenly. “I know things are awkward between us after the other night. But I want you to know how much I appreciate your support. It was a bad weekend for me. I’m fine now.”
He cocked his head and his lip curled in a sneer.
“Deputy Dick kiss it all better?”
“My personal relationships have nothing to do with my work here.”
“No, I guess they’re only relevant when you crawl all over me, rub your tits on my chest, and then kick me out the door after I take care of your drunk ass all night. You started it, sweetheart. I was just following through.”
I closed my eyes, praying I wasn’t flushing bright red.
“Let’s forget that happened, okay? I was emotional and had too much wine. I almost made a horrible mistake, and I’m sorry if I used you. But that doesn’t mean sleeping together would’ve been a good idea.”
“Sounds like a damned fine idea to me,” he whispered, leaning down and sniffing my neck. “I’d make it good for you.”
I caught a whiff of perfume on him.
“Miss Miata is still in the bedroom,” I said tightly. “Better back off or she’ll see you. Then you’ll be in trouble.”
He laughed without pulling back.
“Miss Miata?” he asked. “Now that’s a new name for her. At the clubhouse, we call her—”
“If you say something nasty, I’m going to kick you,” I snapped. “Is it really worth it?”
“Define ‘nasty.’ ”
“Anything less than complimentary about the woman you just had sex with,” I told him. “Because it sounded like you were going to insult her. Just remember, anything she did, you participated in. You’re equally guilty.”
He gave a low laugh.
“At the clubhouse we call her Sharon,” he said softly. “Which I’ve never considered an insult, especially given that she’s named after her grandmother. But you feel free to interpret it any way you like.”
I closed my eyes and counted to five.
“Just go away.”
“Pic, you know where my shoes are?” Sharon said. She walked into the kitchen and I expected him to pull away, to turn to her with an explanation. He stayed put.
“Think they’re in the living room, babe,” he said, reaching up to run his fingers through my hair, tugging my head just enough to force me to meet his eyes.
“Thanks,” Sharon said, passing by us to hunt for her footwear.
“Isn’t she pissed off that you’re talking to me instead of her?”
“Apparently not,” he said, shrugging. “Think she already got what she wanted.”
“Let me guess, this is where you tell me how many times you made her come?”
He smirked.
“No, although if you want details, I guess I could give you some,” he said. “I like how you think. Dirty. But what she wanted was cash. She’s a nice girl and she’s in a bit of trouble. I’m helping her out, so she decided to help me out.”
That took me off guard.
“Is she a … prostitute?”
He shook his head. “She’s a person. Try not to be so judgmental—it’s not nice to objectify women like that, London. Don’t you know better?”
His tone mocked me, and I snorted.
“Let me go.”
“Give me a kiss.”
“We already covered this,” I said, feeling my chest tighten because I wanted him to touch me. How did he do that? Here he was trying to kiss me right after having sex with another woman, and for some reason I hadn’t kicked him in the balls yet. What was up with that? Probably the vodka, I decided. Definitely the vodka. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Oh yes, you’re still seeing the good deputy,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You sleep with him yet?”
“I’m not, actually. Seeing him. I broke up with him yesterday.”
That caught him off guard, and he pulled back, studying my face.
“No shit?”
“No shit,
” I said firmly, taking advantage of his surprise to slip under his arm and flee across the kitchen. “I’ve got a roast in the oven. When the timer goes off, you can take it out and throw in the rolls for fifteen minutes. There’s a salad waiting for you in the fridge and I’ll invoice you for the groceries. Good-bye.”
“You really think I’ll let you drop a bomb like that and just walk out of here?”
I shrugged. It’d been worth a shot. “I have work to do, Reese. I broke up with Nate because it wasn’t right between us. That doesn’t mean it’s right with you—if anything, it just means I need to be on my own for a while. Jessica hasn’t even been gone a week. That’s a lot of change and I don’t feel like talking about it with you or anyone else.”
“This isn’t over.”
I laughed.
“It never started,” I told him bluntly. “I’m not like you. I can’t just have casual sex.”
Sure you can, the slutty side of my brain whispered. Just try it!
Miss Miata hasn’t even left the house yet, I reminded my brain firmly. Don’t be such a slut!
“How do you know you can’t have casual sex?” he asked. “It’s fun. When’s the last time you tried it?”
I glared at him.
“Seriously, when was it?”
“None of your business,” I snapped.
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where I am,” he told me. Sharon came back inside and smiled at me, wrapping her arm around Hayes’s waist. She whispered something in his ear, then gave him a lingering kiss before looking at me.
“Nice to meet you,” she told me with a genuine smile. “Maybe I’ll see you out at the clubhouse sometime?”
I shrugged, because saying I’d rather eat broken glass didn’t feel quite appropriate. How was she so friendly under the circumstances? It seemed wrong.
Stop being so judgmental … Reese’s words echoed in my head.
“Okay, I’m out of here,” she said. “Oh, and Pic? I think there’s something wrong with the toilet, just a heads up. That roast smells fantastic, London. I’m watching my carbs, so good thing those rolls aren’t baking yet!”
With that she gave me a perky finger wave and left, humming brightly.
Of course she was watching her carbs. Girls like her always were.
“That was just weird,” I muttered.
“That was someone who’s comfortable in her sexuality and not worried about overthinking things. You should try it. It’s more fun than pouting. Less work, too.”
“I really have to go now.”
“I’ll see you on Thursday,” he said. “Let me know what time to expect you and I’ll try to have clothes on … Unless you change your mind?”
I didn’t bother responding as I marched out of the kitchen, and his laugh followed me through the door.
Someday I’d be the one making him uncomfortable, I decided. I wasn’t sure when or how, but I looked forward to it. Seemed only fair, all things considered.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My phone buzzed as I dumped out the bucket of gray mop water. It was nine the next morning, and my crew had one more hour to finish cleaning the strip club. Hayes had kept his promise, and according to Gage—the big Reaper who managed the place—we would be getting the contract long term if he liked what he saw.
I was there to make damned sure he liked what he saw.
That meant scrubbing every inch of the place. Not that we’d have to go that far every time we came, but I wanted to start things off right. I pulled out the phone, startled to see it was Jess. Wow … Getting up her up before noon practically took an act of God.
JESSICA: Hey Loni. How are you
ME: Fine. Working, tho. Whats up?
JESSICA: Do you have time for a phone call? I want to talk to. Things arent so good here
I frowned, my throat tightening.
ME: Just a sec
Setting down the bucket, I walked out of the janitorial closet and across the empty club floor. In the distance I heard the whine of the vacuum as my crew worked their way through the VIP rooms in the back. Gage sat at one of the tables, looking up as I passed with a question on his face.
“Just a quick phone call,” I told him, pushing out the front door and into the parking lot.
The phone rang three times before Jessica picked up.
“Loni?”
“Hey, baby, what’s wrong? Do you need to see the doctor? You left without your insurance card, but I can send all the information right now if you need it.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” she said quickly, and I felt myself unclench a little. “I had a little fever last night, but I think it’s just the flu. I’ve been coughing.”
“Be careful,” I warned her, as if she needed the reminder. She knew darned well—damned well—not to play around with infection. The last time she’d wound up in the ICU for three days on an antibiotic drip, with a surgical follow-up just for fun.
“I am,” she replied hesitantly.
“What is it?” I asked, careful to keep my voice neutral. “You can tell me.”
“I think you might’ve been right about Mom,” she said quietly. “Last night they had a big party. A lot of guys came over and they weren’t very nice.”
“Not nice in what way?”
“Two of them cornered me in the guest house,” she whispered. “I’m not exactly a virgin, but this was different, Loni. I’ve never had anyone treat me like that. They didn’t do too much, but only because I ran off and locked myself in a closet. It was horrible.”
She fell silent. I wanted to demand more information but sensed she was about three seconds away from falling apart completely.
At least she’d called me.
“Do you want to come home?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay calm and steady. “I know we’ve had our differences, but you’ll be safe here. Maybe we can figure out a way for you to live on your own, where you can be independent and safe at the same time.”
She gave a snuffling sob, and I realized she was crying.
“I’m so sorry, Loni,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to believe you. I was really stupid.”
“Let’s not worry about that right now. I can fly down there this afternoon, pick you up, and bring you home.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “But if you buy me a ticket home, I’ll find a way to pay you back. I can get a cab to the airport, I still have a little cash. But not until tomorrow. Mom said she wanted me to go out with her today, shopping or something. She’s going on a trip, I guess. I’d rather leave when she’s not around. I don’t think I can handle a big fight with her—she’s not going to like it. She’s been acting really strange.”
I desperately wanted to leap into full rescue mode but forced myself to back off. Just calling me for help was huge—Jessica didn’t need any more pressure. God, I hated this. All of it.
“Okay. I’ll get you a flight home tomorrow, first thing?”
“Maybe around noon?” she asked quietly. “That would be better. She’ll be gone by then. There are all these guys around here … Some of them have guns, Loni. I think her boyfriend might be a drug dealer or something. He’s really rich, but I can’t figure out how he earns his money.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Entirely possible,” I said. “She’s never had the best taste in men. Don’t go asking questions, all right? You don’t want to do anything to catch attention from people like that.”
“Are you mad at me?”
How to answer a question like that?
“I’m more worried about you,” I said finally. “I want you to be safe and happy. You didn’t pick the best way to accomplish that, but I’m incredibly thankful you’re all right. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
“I love you, Loni.”
“I love you, too, baby. Take care today and text me every couple of hours, got it? Just stay in touch and let me know you’re all right. And keep an eye on the fever, too.
If anything feels off, call nine one one and get an ambulance. Don’t worry about the bills or anything. Just take care of yourself.”
“All right,” she whispered. I ended the call and rubbed the back of my neck.
“Fucking great,” I muttered, resisting the urge to throw my phone across the parking lot. I wanted to hit something, or punch a car. Instead I leaned back against the wall, banging my head on it a couple of times, just enough to center myself.
“You doin’ okay?” Gage asked, stepping out the door. His pose was casual, but his eyes were sharp. I shrugged.
“Just the usual,” I said. “Family drama, that kind of thing. Don’t worry—it has nothing to do with the business and won’t impact our ability to perform.”
He nodded slowly, then held the door open for me. I smiled at him and walked through, ready to go inspect the back rooms. I might not be able to control anything else in my life, but I could control cleaning this strip club.
Too bad I’d already cleaned my oven.
Maybe Reese’s oven needed a good scrub? I could go out there later and check … Might as well text him and see if a schedule change would work, because I’d be out at the airport tomorrow afternoon anyway. If he wanted me to come out a second time this week, he’d just have to be flexible.
Family first—even a big, dumbass biker like Reese Hayes would understand that, right?
REESE
“Your girl did good today.”
Gage’s words echoed in my head as I drove home. I wasn’t quite sure if London qualified as my girl or not, but I wanted her—and not for a quick fuck. She’d been pretty damned upset yesterday and I couldn’t blame her.
I’d rubbed Sharon in her face like an asshole.
But the thought of London and Evans rolling around naked together had lodged in my head like a virus. I’d wanted to break shit every time I pictured it, and I couldn’t stop picturing it … A little petty revenge had seemed fair at the time, given I’m a fuckwit. Then she announced she’d broken up with him. Blew me away, because apparently London wasn’t the kind of woman to play men off each other. I’d sort of forgotten what that felt like. Now I respected her even more and felt like a tool in comparison. Screwing Sharon had been juvenile and stupid.