Test Drive

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Test Drive Page 6

by Marie Harte


  “Sorry.” He let go of her shoulders but didn’t move back. “But I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

  “I understand just fine,” she fumed. “I will not sleep with you to get my sister a bigger settlement. In fact, you and she are going to use your lawyers again.” What the hell was I thinking? That Ron might have developed a conscience since Kristin left? Right.

  “That’s not a smart move. Not if you want to help Kristin and the kids.”

  Lara could understand what her sister had first seen in the guy. Ron’s light hair and blue eyes framed a handsome face. He had the build of a tennis pro, as well as the wallet to hire one. He also gave to charities and encouraged his rich golf buddies to contribute. Looks, wealth, a giving heart—all outward appearances of being an all-around good guy.

  And then, in private, the seemingly devoted husband took off his mask and opened his mouth.

  Narcissistic with a capital N, Ron talked about himself and what he wanted constantly. As long as Kristin had been on board the Ron train, all had been well in the world. But when she’d stopped trying to please him, he’d acted like an immature, spoiled brat.

  People rarely said no to him. As evidenced by his myriad flings throughout his marriage to Kristin, as they’d all come to find out. That Lara had not only rejected him but continued to do so must have made her special in his book, because he wouldn’t leave her alone.

  He’d called and texted her until she’d blocked his number. That had been a few months into his marriage with her sister. Since he hadn’t tried to contact her since then, she’d thought they might be able to deal with each other in a civil way. She was wrong.

  “Let me put it plainly,” she enunciated. “I told Kristin I’d talk to you about her legal situation because she, like you, wants to cut out your lawyers.”

  “That’s smart of her.” He nodded, the patronizing SOB. Then he caressed her arm before she pulled it back.

  “Look, Ron, you and I are not a couple and never will be. I wouldn’t sleep with you when you were married to Kristin, and I sure as hell won’t once you’re divorced. Period.” No misunderstanding that. At all.

  He smiled, but the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s only because you don’t know what you’re missing.” Then he dragged her into his arms and kissed her.

  Wet, disgusting, and dear Lord, something she didn’t want to think about had grown in his pants as he ground against her. Even worse, he held her head still, making it difficult to sever the unwelcome connection.

  She wrenched her mouth away and tried to push him back. “Get. Off.” Before she could knee him in his unimpressive balls, he was ripped away from her.

  Charming, laid-back Johnny Devlin stepped up to Ron, and he wasn’t smiling. “You motherfucking asshole.” He punched Ron in the face and busted his nose. Blood spurted.

  She blinked, not sure what she was seeing. No stranger to violence—she did work at Ray’s after all—she’d nevertheless never been in the center of it.

  Ron swore and hit Johnny back. She knew he considered himself a decent boxer, since he’d often bragged about his private coaches at his overpriced gym. But he only managed to make contact with Johnny once out of the three or four swings he took.

  Johnny’s head snapped back when the punch landed on his cheek, but he didn’t duck away. He punched back and made contact. Then he bobbed and weaved, looking like a pro, and she couldn’t help but stare in shock and awe. Such aggression pouring out of a man she’d never seen do more than seduce a smile out of the women at the bar.

  Johnny proceeded to punch Ron in the stomach then the chest. He finished with a kick right between Ron’s legs. “Suck on that, you dick.”

  Ron fell to the ground, moaning, and curled into a ball, cupping his crotch while blood dripped down his face. He whimpered. “Going to…pay…for…this.”

  When Johnny moved to go after him again, she jumped between them. “Wait. Please.”

  He put his arms around her and turned them, holding her so tenderly while keeping himself between her and Ron. “Shit. You okay, Lara?”

  She wanted to laugh and proclaim him her hero, but her eyes filled instead. She started shaking. While she hadn’t really been afraid of Ron, not exactly, it had all happened so fast. Getting manhandled by him, then mauled with that sloppy kiss, to watching Johnny fight like a tornado of rage. So much brutality.

  “Shh. It’s okay. I have you.” Johnny rocked her in his arms.

  She should have been afraid of someone who could do that much damage to another person, but within his arms she felt safe. Cared for. And she snuggled closer and hugged him in thanks.

  She heard Ron getting to his feet, and Johnny put her aside. “Why don’t you go grab a bouncer for me? We’ll let him take care of this piece of shit.”

  “Okay. Just don’t hurt him anymore.”

  Johnny looked surprised. “Why not? You didn’t want him kissing you, did you?”

  “God no. But I don’t want him trying to get you in trouble or anything.” She glared at Ron. “If you try anything, I’ll have ten witnesses from the bar letting a judge know you attacked me, so don’t even think about it.”

  Johnny’s lips curled. “What she said, dipshit.” He stroked Lara’s cheek. “Don’t worry. We’ll make nice while you go get Big J to throw his ass out of here.”

  She raced away and returned with the bouncer and her boss, Rena trailing behind. “They’re here,” she said, out of breath.

  Johnny stood next to Ron, who now leaned up against the dirty brick wall. Ron had a few more bruises, and Johnny’s knuckles looked battered, his cheek still rosy from where Ron had made contact. But Ron didn’t make a peep as he stood in Johnny’s shadow.

  Johnny said something in a low voice.

  Ron jerked away and spat, “Fuck you, asshole.” To Lara, he said, “This isn’t over, bitch.”

  She so didn’t like the b-word.

  Johnny would have launched himself at Ron again, except Ray intercepted him. Then Rena latched on to his arm.

  “Hold off, son. We’ve got this.” Ray nodded at the six-foot-five bouncer. “Toss his ass out. And, mister, you’re not welcome here again.”

  “As if I’d come back to this shit hole voluntarily.” Ron sneered at Ray and the others, but the malicious glare he turned on her made her want to run away and hide—very unlike her normal kick-ass self. “Tell Kristin she won’t see a fucking dime, thanks to you.”

  “I’ll be telling it to her lawyer,” she said as Big J shoved him around the building toward the parking lot. She heard Ron swearing all the way.

  “About par for the course on a Tuesday night.” Ray sighed. “Lara, honey, you okay?”

  “I’m good, thanks. I’ll be right back in.”

  “No, she won’t,” Johnny said and pried his arm from Rena while Ray ducked back inside.

  “Oh, sorry, Johnny.” Rena shook her head. “No, Lara. Go home. We’ve got tonight covered.”

  “I’m fine. Really.” Having some ape of a brother-in-law assault her should have pissed her off. She wanted to hold on to anger, to not feel like a victim. God, she knew better than to go out the side exit with the clientele that normally frequented the place. But most guys knew not to mess with Ray’s staff. She just hadn’t considered Ron would actually touch her.

  He never had before.

  Johnny’s voice softened. “You’re not fine.”

  Oh hell. She was shaking again.

  “I can take her home,” Rena offered.

  “I’ve got her.” Johnny put his arm around her shoulders. “That okay, Lara? I can see you home.”

  “I’m fine, I said.” She tried to sound mad, but her voice came out shaky. “Fuck.”

  Johnny chuckled. “That’s a quarter for the swear jar.”

  She smiled, and a tear escaped. “Damn it.”

  Rena came over and hugged her. “You take her home. I’ll finish up. And, Lara, don’t worry about tomorrow night
either. Sue will cover.”

  “But I—”

  “Thanks, Rena.” Johnny steered Lara back inside, following Rena before she peeled away. “Hey, let my dad know I had to bail, okay?”

  “No problem.”

  Ray reappeared and handed Johnny Lara’s purse. “Sorry about this, Lara.” Her boss clumsily patted her on the shoulder.

  She felt stupid, so many people apologizing and walking on eggshells around her. “I’m okay, Ray. Maybe just a little tired. I’ll be fine to work tomorrow though.”

  “Nah. Sue’s got it. Rena’s orders.” He grinned. “You know she’s really the boss around here.”

  “I thought I was,” she tried to joke.

  “You are when I say you are,” Rena yelled from the kitchen.

  Johnny tugged Lara with him back out the side exit, and she could have kissed him. She didn’t want to show everyone what a wuss she was being. She subtly wiped her eyes and sniffed. They were halfway through the parking lot when he stopped and turned to face her.

  “I am so sorry.” He wiped her cheeks. “No one should mess with you like that.”

  “I’m really okay,” she said, trying to convince herself. “It’s just been a long day, and I’m tired. I wasn’t expecting him to attack me is all. I’m fine.”

  Johnny just stared at her.

  “What? Do I have snot coming out my nose?” She wiped her nose on the shoulder of her T-shirt. “Better?”

  His slow grin made her heart race. Bruised and no doubt buzzing off the altercation, Johnny Devlin looked better than any man had a right to. “You’re so pretty, even when you’re crying. It’s weird.”

  She managed a laugh. “Thanks. I think.”

  He took her by the hand and led her to his car, a loud, dark green muscle car. She had no idea what it was, an old Chevy, maybe. Something that said, “I’m a man.”

  “I drove here.”

  “One of the guys will drop it off later. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I have to. I need it for class tomorrow.”

  He unlocked and opened the passenger door for her, helping her get in.

  “I said I’m fine. Jeez, Johnny. You’re the one who got hit. I just got lip-locked by a rich sissy in ugly clothing.”

  He laughed. “He hit like a girl, for sure. No offense.”

  She flipped him the finger, and he laughed some more. When he got in the car, the space seemed intimate, and way too small, despite his roomy bucket seats.

  He drove her home, apparently not needing directions.

  “How do you know where I live?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I asked. Duh.”

  “Oh.” A pause. “When?”

  “A while ago. I believe my exact words were, ‘Who is that bartender with the long brown hair, heavenly rack, and tight ass? Because that’s the future Mrs. Devlin.’”

  Her cheeks heated. “Shut up.”

  “You are so red right now.” He snickered. “Actually, Rena told me where you lived a while ago, since she thought we’d make a nice couple.”

  Friggin’ Rena considered herself a matchmaker. She still took credit for Del and Mike McCauley hooking up, despite the fact that Del had met Mike through his son.

  They drove in silence for a while before Johnny spoke again. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I really am. I think I was just freaked out because it all happened so fast.”

  In the passing shadows, she saw his expression darken. “Yeah, it can go down like that. I see that guy again, I’ll turn him into a human pretzel.” He glanced at her. “You let me know if he bothers you.”

  “I will.” She most certainly would not. She refused to be responsible for Johnny landing in jail. Ron was just the type to goad Johnny into roughing him up where he’d have witnesses. Then he’d involve his many important connections to put her friend away.

  Johnny Devlin—her friend.

  They pulled into the parking lot of her building, and she directed him to her empty spot. Then he walked her upstairs to her unit. The halls were blissfully empty at ten o’clock on a Tuesday night. She could hear televisions, a few shouts, and laughter through the thin walls. She nodded at a familiar face, a cop who had a sister who lived in the place.

  “It’s not much, but it’s home,” she said as they stopped at her apartment. She fished the keys out of her purse and unlocked her door, then turned to him. He’d come to her rescue tonight in a big way. She owed him. That, and she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.

  “Lara?”

  “Come on in and let me take a look at that bruise.”

  “That’s right. You’re the nursing student.” He watched her, looking for what, she didn’t know.

  “Please. It’s the least I can do.” She didn’t want to beg him to stay, but she wanted to thank him, if at least in a small way.

  “Okay.” He stepped inside.

  She closed and locked the door behind him, not sure what to do with him now that she had him. Fortunately, she’d gone grocery shopping yesterday.

  “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

  He stood in her entryway, looking huge in her tiny apartment. Tucking his hands in his jeans pockets, he shrugged. “I’m good.” His glance passed over her living room and kitchen and settled on the kitchen counter. On her plate of cookies.

  She smiled. “How about a chocolate chip cookie? I baked some to take to class tomorrow.” She had class work at the college instead of the hospital, so she’d baked some goodies to take her classmates’ minds off their grueling schedule.

  “I don’t want to mess you up for school.” Yet he took an awfully long time to look away from the plate.

  “Come on. They’re amazing. I’ll even throw in a glass of milk…” she tempted. “Mmm. You know you want to.”

  He gave a mock sigh. “Peer pressure. Guess I’ll have to say yes.”

  “Great. Go sit, and I’ll be right back.” She set the cookies and milk on the table and rushed down the hallway.

  Now to change, force herself to relax, and figure out why it felt like everything between them had turned some weird but important corner.

  Chapter 5

  Johnny called himself five kinds of fool as he sat at the table in Lara’s homey apartment. Too restless to remain seated, he snooped around, needing to know everything about her. The place was in a rough neighborhood but not so run-down he’d call it a slum or anything. She had a couch and table that had seen better days. A handcrafted quilt thrown over the back of the sofa made it cozy, and the stacked magazines and TV remote had been neatly placed on the coffee table.

  A TV stand and potted plants in a windowsill sat across from the couch. In a small area near the tiny, open kitchen, a table and three chairs looked in decent enough condition. The kitchen had clean counters, a ceramic jug full of fresh-cut flowers, and an old-fashioned white refrigerator. The black-and-white tiles and antiquated white cupboards, which could use a coat of paint, gave the place a retro feel. Old and worn but functional. Like everything else he’d seen, the furniture might be hand-me-down but was kept clean and neat.

  She’d disappeared down a hallway. He’d be surprised if she had more than one bedroom. They packed ’em tight in the Maryville Apartments. He knew, because he’d had a friend who used to live here. More like a one-night stand a few years ago who’d since moved back to Texas, but still…

  He heard Lara moving around, as well as a few other close-by tenants on either side of her place. It made him appreciate his rental all the more, because he never heard his neighbors.

  His cheek throbbed and reminded him to watch out for Lara’s asshole of a brother-in-law. Good for her sister for divorcing the schmuck. He’d met rich guys like Ron before. Dickheads who thought they could buy their way out of trouble. Ron might have financed his way through life, but he hadn’t been able to buy Lara.

  Satisfaction at her refusal almost made his aches go away. He sat back at the table and waited. His stomach rumbled, the
sight of that plate of cookies so near causing him to salivate.

  Lara returned in a pair of sweats and a worn, long-sleeve T-shirt. She had her hair still up in a ponytail, but she looked fresh, scrubbed clean. She came to the table, carrying a small box.

  “Sorry. Had to get the stink of Ray’s off me.”

  “You mean Ron.”

  She grinned. “Him too.”

  He couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d felt when he’d seen her getting mauled. Pure, unadulterated rage. It had taken some serious control not to bash Ron’s brains all over the concrete slab. He’d been distracted enough by the thought of her trauma to let the ass get a shot in. Sloppy of him, and he resolved to do better next time. With Ron, he had a feeling there’d be one.

  “What’s in the box?”

  She set it down by him then slid a cookie his way.

  An open invitation he couldn’t refuse.

  He took a bite and closed his eyes. “These are sooo good,” he moaned and blinked his eyes open. “I took a hit to the face. That means I get more than one, right?”

  Her finger grazing his cheek stilled him, and he felt the contact all the way to his toes. He swallowed the cookie he’d been chewing and stared at her.

  “I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me, Johnny.”

  Her hand felt like pure heaven, and he cupped it to him, loving her touch. “Not because of you, honey. Because some dickhead needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “If you say so.” She tugged, and he let go. “At least let me patch you up.”

  Fascinated, because he hadn’t had a woman take care of him in…forever…he sat still while she scooted her chair closer.

  “Drink your milk.” She nudged his glass to him.

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Smart-ass.”

  He chuckled and continued to watch her. She looked all professional as she withdrew some antiseptic, cotton balls, and a bandage from her plastic box. “So you’re studying to become a nurse, huh?” He could totally envision her in one of those naughty nurse costumes from Halloween—which was coming up in another month. He wondered if he could talk her into wearing one.

 

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