by Marie Harte
He slowly put her away from him and stared at her from under hooded lids. All she could think was that he looked kissable.
“Stop.”
“Huh?” She shivered.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips, and he glanced away and swore.
“L-like what?”
“Like you want me to… Never mind.” He blew out a harsh breath. “Yeah, um. Good idea to stop that. We’re just pretending, right?”
“Huh?”
“About dating. So we can fool your mom if we have to kiss in front of her to be believable.”
“Right. Yes. Uh-huh.” Think, Hope. With more than your ovaries. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t trying to put out the wrong signals.” That I want you? That sex with you is on my must-have list? “I told you I had some tough relationships in the past.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m trying to do better and be focused on me right now.”
“Sure. I get you.” He nodded and tucked his hands in his pockets, which did nothing to mask the raging hard-on under his fly. “Smart move. I met Greg. I feel you.”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
They all started out nice, then slowly morphed into monsters. J.T. seemed amiable, sexy, safe. What would he turn out to be in the end?
“Okay, then.” He cleared his throat and guided her toward the front door. “We won’t do this again. But we know we can pull it off for your mom if we need to.”
“Right. I really do appreciate you doing this for me.” She stopped and faced him, feeling bad for pulling him into her mess. “You don’t have to, you know.”
“Um, yeah, I do. Where else will you find a tattoo artist with several baby mommas and jail time on his résumé?”
She stared. “Really?”
“Well, no. That’s not all true.” He winked at her. “But to find out which parts I’m lying about, you have to buy me a beer at Ray’s.”
She gave him a smile, unable to help herself. Charming should have been his middle name. That and handsome. “It’s a date.”
“Wednesday at six work for you?” he asked. “It’s a little less crowded in the middle of the week, and less scary for a first timer.”
“I won’t be scared.” She’d heard from her brothers about the rough types who hung out around the place.
“Honey, I was scared my first time. And my second, my third…” They shared a laugh. “Ray’s is good people. Tough, but good. I’ll pick you up. Will that be okay?”
She thought about it and realized she didn’t care if he knew where she lived. “You’re practically family,” she teased. “I trust you.”
She couldn’t read the look he shot her as he walked her to her car and waited for her to belt up. Once all secured, she rolled down her window. “Okay. What’s with that look?”
“Just remember, Hope. We aren’t family.” He shook his head and bent to stare her in the eye. “Because I’m not down with kissing my family like I kissed you.” He stroked her cheek, sighed, and straightened. “Now go home before I forget why I shouldn’t give you what you’re asking for.”
Heck, she’d been the one to say no earlier. But when his eyes narrowed, she obeyed. Better to keep him happy since he’d agreed to help. Plus, she trusted what she knew of him. If he thought she should leave, she’d go. Because if she stayed any longer, she might assault the man and have her wicked way with him. And that would pretty much shoot her independent, no-men stance all to hell.
Turning on the radio, she sang all the way home, feeling better about life than she had in a long time.
* * *
The next day, Hope arrived at work early, in a cheerful mood. She wore a business casual outfit of dress pants, heels, and a silk blouse. Even Linda would have trouble making an issue of her clothing, styled hair, and makeup.
Instead of annoyance at thoughts of her domineering mother, Hope smiled, recalling J.T.’s warmth, the feel of his firm yet soft lips guiding her. Melting her. She sighed as she took the elevator to the office on the second floor. “Dating” J.T. would prove to be a challenge, because everything in her wanted to be with the man for real. To see if he could make good on his reputation’s promise as a marvel in bed.
She’d been off sex too long, was all she could think. But J.T. was so much more than a hot body. His smile seemed to light up his face. His sense of humor and work ethic, as well as his artistic skill, made her want to know more about the fascinating man. For all that his sister and father could be hard cases, J.T. seemed so much mellower. No temperamental artist, but an even-keeled, fun guy who could soothe the savage beast (of his sister, in particular) with a joke or two.
She’d liked being part of their family at dinner Friday night. As much as she’d liked seeing J.T. in his workplace. The designs she’d studied while waiting for him had stunned her with their intricacy and true workmanship.
Hope had been prepared to see the typical skulls, roses, barbed wire, and the like. But the art his crew did was so much more. His work especially had captivated her. What did he see when he looked at the world? So much more than she did, apparently. Which made her wonder what he saw when he looked at her.
She stopped at the locked office door and stared at the vase of flowers in front of it. No doubt a surprise gift from Cam to his wife. He did that sometimes, though he normally had the flowers delivered to him during working hours. She took the vase inside with her and started her day. Powering on the computers, the lights, and most important, the coffeepot.
She might have thought Alex, Cam’s assistant and an all-around nice guy, had received the flowers, because Alex’s partner loved the stuffing out of him. But Alex had gone east to take care of a family matter and wouldn’t be back for three weeks. The poor guy’s brother had passed, and Alex needed to attend to his estate.
She missed Alex’s snarky sense of humor, as well as his gourmet beans. He was a coffee snob and insisted they use the beans he chose. And he chose very well.
After she’d gone through some emails and scheduled a few appointments, she studied the bouquet, curious as to why Cam would send flowers to the office so early. Were they an apology to Vanessa for a fight they’d had? A secret romance to surprise his all-knowing, all-seeing wife? Or were they for someone else? Cam had occasionally received flowers from a few of their more amorous clients, which Hope found hilarious.
She nosed through them and spotted a card. She frowned, decided to open it on a whim, and read. A peek at the card didn’t tell her much.
To add to the beauty behind her desk.
She stared. Her desk? The flowers had been sent to Hope? But by whom? Her thoughts immediately went to J.T. But their kiss last night had been spontaneous, and he’d agreed to keep their relationship friends-only.
She didn’t have any other admirers. And she frankly couldn’t see Greg ponying up any cash to give her something nice. Not unless a spider or thorns lay buried beneath the blooms.
At the thought, she set the vase on a table away from her desk.
Cam arrived soon after. “Good morning, Hope.” He smiled, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and handsome like his father, but with his mother’s warm disposition. “Flowers, hmm? Who’s the lucky guy?”
“I was going to ask you. I thought they were for you until I read the card.” She handed it to him. “So these aren’t from you to Vanessa, then.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I wonder if one of our clients has a crush.” He winked.
Since he saw no harm in the gift, she figured she shouldn’t either, though it creeped her out a little. Hope wasn’t one for secret admirers. She wanted badly to text J.T. to ask if he’d sent them, but she’d feel beyond stupid if he said no. If he’d sent them, he’d probably mention it at some point.
“They look nice on the table by the chairs.” Against the far wall, awa
y from her desk.
Cam must have caught her unease. “You want me to get rid of them?”
“Can you just make sure there are no bugs or surprises in the vase besides the bouquet?”
“Ah, sure.” He looked and shook his head. “Nothing but pretty flowers.”
“Okay, then.” Hope smiled, determined to enjoy the colorful surprise and start in on the day’s work. “Your first appointment this morning is with Carol Knopf at ten. You have her electronic file, and I’ve printed out a paper copy of her investment summary that you can give to her.”
“Great.” Cam gave her a hug. “Have I told you how glad I am you agreed to work with me?”
With, not for. Take that, Linda. “Have I told you how glad I am I accepted?”
They smiled at each other.
“Oh,” she said, remembering what else she’d meant to tell him. “I brought the sugar substitute Carol likes. I’ll have it on the tray with the coffee and beignets.” High-end clients received high-end treatment. “You aren’t wearing cologne, are you?” She sniffed him. Subtle, yet there. “Cam, you know Mrs. Knopf can’t handle scents.”
“Crap. I forgot. I’ll wash it off.” He turned toward his office, then stopped. “You look really nice today. Just thought I’d mention it. Next time, I’ll get you flowers.”
She smiled. “Promise, boss?”
Chapter 4
J.T. had known it would be too good to be true not to run into anyone he knew at Ray’s Wednesday night. His cousin, Rena, manned the bar. Guys from Webster’s Garage—more Del’s place than his father’s, what with his dad semiretired—were playing darts. He recognized the pair and Heller, who wasn’t supposed to be back yet.
J.T. considered Axel Heller, owner of Heller Paint and Auto Body, a true friend. The poor guy had recently lost his mother to cancer, and J.T. had intended to pay his respects the moment Heller returned from Germany.
Sam and Lou were amazing mechanics who worked for his sister. For that alone, they deserved praise. The guys were a lot of fun, decent despite looking like street fighters, and he considered them friends.
“Do you see people you know?” Hope asked from beside him. “You can go talk to them if you want. I see Rena waving me over. And there aren’t too many people here giving me dirty looks, so I doubt I’ll get into a fight,” she teased.
He’d warned her to be cautious at Ray’s. She’d smartly worn a pair of jeans and a casual pink T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Nothing fancy. Yet she still drew every male eye in the place.
Gruffly, he said, “I’m going to say hi to Heller. Guy lost his mom recently. I hadn’t realized he’d come back already.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She put a hand on his arm, and J.T. felt her touch to his toes. Warmth trailed, and not just the sexual kind. Hope had a way about her, doling compassion that made him feel as if she truly cared about him. Not just because she was a nice person, but because she felt for J.T.
Stupid to think that. She clearly didn’t want a relationship. But she cared. And that mattered.
He seated her at the bar and warned her and Rena to watch out for assholes, which had both women rolling their eyes at him. Then he promised to return once he’d talked to the guys.
He reached their table and gave Lou the stink eye.
Lou shrugged. “Sorry, amigo. I had no idea he’d come back until he sat down next to me.”
Next to him, Sam nodded. “Yeah. He’s not lying. This time.”
Lou shot him the finger. Sam arched a brow and told him to do something anatomically impossible.
Next to them, Heller regarded J.T. with blue eyes so dark they looked black.
“You okay, man?” J.T. asked and sat on the other side of him.
“Ja. Life and death coexist,” Heller said, his German accent thick. “We cannot have one without the other.” Six five, blond, and typically scary as fuck, Heller intimidated those who didn’t know him. But the guy had a soft spot for artists like J.T. and Lou. And he was a genuinely nice person under all the anger and aggression he often showed.
Lou, Del’s paint specialist, shook his head when J.T. would have commiserated.
Instead, J.T. slapped his grieving buddy on the back and nodded at the dartboard. “Who’s winning?”
Sam sighed. Almost as big as Heller but now more mellow since he’d found love, he didn’t fight nearly as much as he used to. A crying shame, in J.T.’s opinion, because watching Sam mop the floor with the idiots at Ray’s could be entertaining as hell.
Lou grinned. “Like you have to ask. Heller’s ahead by thirty. I’m hanging in there. Sam sucks.”
“Shut up.”
J.T. chuckled. “Like old times, except the gang isn’t all here. Where are the others?”
The mechanics from Webster’s were a family, usually thick as thieves. But now that the others had all gotten girlfriends, the guys didn’t get together as much. A shame, but J.T. knew they had to grow up some time. They had. Not him, though. He’d learned from his father’s example too well.
Sam answered him. “Foley’s with Cyn. Dinner at her folks’. Johnny and Lara are doing whatever the lovebirds get up to when they’re not around. Probably playing nurse.” Lara was close to completing her nursing degree, and the guys loved teasing Johnny about it. “But the real question is what the hell are you doing with a Donnigan? I recognize the blond from Del’s wedding party. That’s Hope, right? Mike’s cousin?”
As one, everyone at their table turned to see Hope laughing with Rena. Then the guys turned back to him. Lou raised a brow. Sam smirked. Heller just stared.
“What? We’re just friends. She wanted to see Ray’s, and I’m not a moron. I brought her here on a mostly empty night. She’s stubborn enough to come on her own.”
Lou winced. “Yeah, not a good idea.”
“I know.” J.T. saw some slick asshole approach her, say something, then leave.
“I brought Ivy here once,” Sam said. “Never again.”
Lou snickered. “That’s because you’re an idiot. You think I’d bring Joey to this place? No way in hell.” Lou’s girlfriend seemed too innocent to hang out at Ray’s. Yet for some reason, J.T. didn’t think Hope would have a problem here.
“Rena works here.” J.T. felt the need to defend the bar. Okay, so Ray’s wasn’t superclean or finicky about their clientele. So they had no dress code, frequent fights, and a few police raids now and then. J.T. liked the place.
“She’s a hard worker,” Heller added. “I think Ray’s is fine.”
“Whatever. You just want the bartender,” Sam muttered. Heller turned icy eyes on him, but Sam wasn’t deterred. “We all know it. Hell, she knows it. Make a move, Romeo. Take advantage of that sympathy she keeps shooting your way when you’re not looking.”
Heller sat straighter in his chair. “She’s looking here?”
“Yep.” Lou fought a smile. “Maybe you should get us another pitcher.”
Heller left the table in a rush.
The guys laughed at him, J.T. included. “Sucker.”
“Okay, look. He’s in a rough place,” Lou said. “Might want to check on him in a few days. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, but my paintwork finishes tomorrow, and I’m scheduled to be back at Webster’s as of Friday. He’s not doing so good.”
J.T. sighed. “I know. His mom was great. His dad’s an ass and, I bet, making trouble for him?”
Lou nodded.
“But enough about Heller.” Sam thunked his glass on the table. “What’s up with you and the hot blond?”
“I told you. I’m showing her Ray’s.”
“Uh-huh.” Lou’s smirk was annoying.
“Watch the tone, Cortez.”
“Or what? You’ll insult me to death?” Lou snorted. “Hate to break it to you, guy, but no one is afraid of your tiny fists.”
>
J.T. looked from his own graceful, artist hands to the guys’ blocky mechanic ones. “Not my fault I care about my art. But push comes to shove, I can hit back. I mean, I was raised with Del. Among the wolves, man.”
Sam tilted his head, considering.
Lou chuckled. “Good point. But don’t change the subject. I saw you drooling over Hope at Del’s wedding. You had it bad then. I’m wondering if you’re gonna try to make a move now that you’ve got that McCauley connection going for you.”
J.T. cringed. “It’s like a curse, that name.” The guys laughed. “But seriously, Del is so happy lately.” And pregnant—but that was something she needed to tell the guys. “Mike’s a dick, but he’s great to my sister. Their whole family is. And with Dad hooked on Sophie…I’m thinking there might be another wedding down the pike.”
“Seriously?” Lou blinked. “Liam taking the plunge? Damn.”
“Yeah, well, don’t count on wedding bells yet. The old man is scared but trying not to show it. I’m gently easing him into his ‘I do’s.’” J.T. grinned. “If he lets Sophie get away, I’ll personally kick his ass. He’s so much nicer with her around.”
“Agreed.” Lou nodded. “We don’t see him all that much anymore. But when we do, he’s always in an up mood. It’s nice to see.”
Sam frowned, and J.T. wondered what the guy had to be bugged about. Did he not like Liam being happy? Then he said the words J.T. had dreaded. “Ah, you might want to head back over to your girlfriend. Trouble ahead.”
J.T. swung around to see Fletcher sneering and mouthing off. “Damn. I thought Ray kicked his ass out.” He hurried to Hope just as Heller punched Fletcher in the face.
And the night got more interesting…
* * *
Hope stared in shock as a scary giant of a man, who’d seconds ago been staring at Rena with adoration, smacked an obnoxious racist in the mouth. The guy’s head snapped back, and the giant followed with a punch to the racist’s stomach that felled him to his knees.
Before Hope could move, J.T. pulled her back behind him. “Stay there.”
Like he had to tell her twice. She watched in shock and awe as the giant—Heller, according to several onlookers—took out two more rude men, both of whom could have used a bath several times over.