One Touch More

by Mandy Baxter

  For once, she wished that life could be that simple.

  Chapter Six

  Damien collapsed on the bed, ready to put this miserable night behind him. For the past three hours, he’d been reliving his time in the parking lot with Tabitha. His fingertips still tingled where they touched her hair. You stupid, impulsive bastard.

  He hadn’t intended to touch her. Fuck, he barely knew her. And she’d just barely fended off that asshole Tony’s unwanted attention when he’d reached for her. His gut clenched at the thought of how her gaze had warmed. And whereas she’d cringed away from Tony, he could have sworn that she’d leaned into his touch.

  And goddamn it, her hair had been just as soft as he’d imagined. Like corn silk. His eyes drifted shut, and Damien didn’t even bother to turn off the lights as sleep weighed down his limbs. All he felt like doing lately was sleep. Probably a sign of depression. Oh fucking well . . .

  A knock at the door squashed any hope of oblivion and Damien dragged his ass out of bed. He’d crossed the last guy off his list of “appointments” about a half hour ago. From the dresser, he retrieved his Beretta and held it at the ready as he checked through the peephole in the door. On the other side, Joey Cavello stared at the screen of his phone, his expression pinched and impatient. Checking up on him, huh?

  “’Sup?” Damien swung the door open wide and tucked his piece into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back.

  Joey strode through the door and took a quick look around as though trying to catch Damien doing something he shouldn’t. As tonight was his first night on the job, Damien didn’t blame him for being suspicious. “A buddy of mine did some checking up on you tonight, Evans. Found some pretty interesting shit.”

  Adrenaline shot through Damien’s bloodstream and his muscles bunched in anticipation of a fight. The Marshals Service had done a pretty good job of burying his real identity, but hackers could be crafty. If Joey knew a good one, there was no telling what he might have found. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

  “Said you were arrested a few months back with a bunch of Mexican arms dealers. That right?”

  To protect his undercover persona, Damien had been arrested along with Teyo Sousa and his crew as they were getting ready to take possession of a dirty bomb near the Port of Seattle. He had a fake criminal record a mile long, and his colleagues never seemed to tire of throwing the cuffs on him. Their entertainment was a hard-core pain in the ass for Damien. “Yeah, that’s right,” he replied with a shrug of one shoulder.

  “You must know some heavy hitters to get out of that shit. ’Cuz I bet none of those other guys are out walking around like you are.”

  True. Sousa and his associates wouldn’t be seeing the light of day anytime soon. “I do.” Again, said as though it was no big deal.

  Joey looked him over, a smirk pulling at his thin lips. “I knew taking you on would be a good move. C’mon, I need some help tonight and Tony flaked out on me.”

  Bastard was probably in a flophouse somewhere coming down from his high. Things were progressing quicker than he’d expected, which in some cases could be considered a bad thing. Since he didn’t consider Joey stupid by any stretch of the imagination, he had to be suspicious of his motives for trusting him so easily. He’d thrown him into the deep end of his business without batting a lash, and now he was taking him out as backup for God knew what. Not that Damien wasn’t pleased. But he wasn’t interested in taking a bullet to the skull anytime soon, either. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “I’m picking up a delivery. Some assholes from a syndicate out of Nampa tried to jump us last time, and I’m not putting up with that bullshit tonight.”

  And no doubt Lightfoot would find someone else to work with if Joey couldn’t keep his house in order. “You think there’s going to be trouble? If that’s the case, you might want to take more than me along.” It showed the low level of criminal Joey Cavello was that he wasn’t taking an armed entourage along to pick up tonight’s shipment. Which made Damien more than a little twitchy. You’d think they were going to the grocery store to pick up a gallon of milk or some shit, not a half million dollars in narcotics. The kid was clueless.

  Joey snorted. “I take a big motherfucker like you along, ain’t no one gonna fuck with me.”

  Jesus. Damien was big, but he wasn’t Superman. It was his reputation that backed up his size, though, and Cavello knew that. Damien wondered how much Joey’s competition from the neighboring city would care.

  “Don’t be so sure.” He tucked the suitcase with the rest of the product under the bed and grabbed the Do Not Disturb sign to hang on the door. He led the way out and Joey followed him. “I’m down, though. Am I good to leave my luggage in the room? I don’t want anything happening to it.”

  “You’re good,” Joey remarked. “As long as that door hanger’s up, no one will go in. Tabs runs a tight ship and everyone knows that when my crew is staying the weekend, they don’t like to be disturbed. And it’s in her best interest to keep me happy.”

  The threat inherent in Joey’s tone made Damien want to beat the fucker to the ground. His statement was yet another indicator that Tabitha might be helping him under duress, and though it didn’t pertain to his assignment in the least, he was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it.

  They hopped in Joey’s tricked-out Ford F-150 pickup and headed from the downtown area to the outskirts of the city, toward Gowen Field. Several shipping companies had their headquarters on the lots that skirted the freeway, and Joey followed Federal Way out to a fenced-in lot with a large warehouse. A sign that read LTC Inc. was hung on a chain-link fence and Joey stopped to enter a code on the automated gate that slid open with several jerks and squeaks of metal.

  Questions raised suspicion, and Damien had learned over the course of his undercover assignments that if he kept his eyes open and his mouth shut, he’d learn all he needed to without uttering a single word. Joey flicked his cigarette out the window before rolling it up and drove through the gate toward a large lot full of semitrailers. “The shit’s coming down from up north. So far, the state police don’t have a clue about what these trucks are really transporting. We’re talking high-tech shit. Hidden compartments that the dogs can’t even sniff through. It’s fucking genius, dude.”

  Ingenious, dude. For every undercover op Damien worked, he felt his IQ drop another notch. “Sweet.” Just to be safe, he’d have to fill Deputy Gates and the chief deputy in, make sure that the Idaho State Police gave the shipping company a wide berth, as well.

  “When I started distributing for this guy, I was setting up at the hotel one weekend a month. Now, I’m up to twice a month, and with this shipment, I’ll probably have you there every weekend from here on out. This guy is a fucking gold mine. I’m making bank, and if you stick around, I can guarantee you that you’ll be pulling in some serious cash.”

  What Joey didn’t know was that Lightfoot would be pulling his operation out of Idaho soon. And when that happened, he’d leave him high and dry. “You thinking of setting up shop somewhere else? Gotta spread the love, you know what I mean?”

  “Nah. Why? I’ve got a sweet deal at Tabitha’s hotel. I’m not gonna catch any heat as long as she’s working there, and she’s working there until I tell her she’s not.”

  Damien resisted the urge to pop the asshole in the face as Joey pulled the truck to a stop just inside the yard and flashed his headlights three times. “She used to be your girl, right?” He’d violated his own rule by asking a question, but curiosity burned him from the inside out.

  “Yeah,” Joey said in a conspiratorial tone that caused Damien’s hackles to rise. “And believe me, I defiled her fine ass.”

  Damien swallowed down the growl that rose in his throat and traded it for an appreciative snort. “But you’re not hittin’ that anymore?”

  “Tabs likes bad boys, but she wants hers to have more of a conscience. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit.”

  Jo
ey’s statement, coupled with Tony’s not-so-gentle reminder to Tabitha that Joey had her brother by the balls, only helped to confirm that there was more to Tabitha’s involvement than Damien had first surmised. It was becoming more obvious that she was being coerced, which made him wonder exactly what Joey had on her brother that would convince Tabitha to help him out.

  In the distance, a flashlight blinked in the darkness once, twice, and again. Joey opened his car door. “We’re on. Let’s get the cargo and get the fuck outta here.”

  Damien put Tabitha to the back of his mind as he got out of the car and followed Joey. His skin prickled as his senses engaged, fine-tuned to his surroundings and every minute sound that shifted in the distance. It was too damned dark out here. The opportunity for an ambush too perfect. As they approached the three men waiting for them, Damien banished that last bit of concern for Tabitha to the compartment that he stored Parker’s sensibilities in.

  The exchange was made easily enough. Product was transferred from one of the semitrailers and loaded up into the backseat of Joey’s truck. He pulled out of the yard and stopped just outside of the gate to the shipping yard, waiting for it to close behind them, when a disembodied arm reached in through his open window and pointed a gun at Joey’s head.

  The would-be carjacker leaned in the rest of the way, his face undistinguishable in the darkness. “Both of you fuckers, get out of the truck. Now.”

  Obviously Joey’s rival dealer wasn’t done trying to get his hands on Lightfoot’s product. From out of the shadows, the guy’s backup approached from behind a souped-up Nissan. The car was running, but the lights were off. Damien couldn’t see much past the headlights of Joey’s truck, but as the dude sidled up to his partner, the light glinted off the chrome of a 9mm clutched in his grip.

  Joey eased open his door and climbed down from his seat and Damien tucked his forty close to his hip as he followed suit. They had darkness on their side and with what appeared to be two-against-two odds, Damien had the height and muscle—not to mention the training—that would ensure they got the upper hand.

  He kept his stance relaxed as he came around the high front end of Joey’s Ford, using the truck’s jacked-up height to hide the weapon at his side.

  Thug number one jerked his gun in Damien’s direction. “Get your ass over here before my patience runs out, asshole.”

  The fence to the shipping yard rattled closed and Damien used the momentary distraction to strike. He used the butt of the gun and brought it down on the head of the guy closest to him, knocking him out cold.

  Before thug number two could react, he brought his gun up and aimed it at the bastard’s head. “You really wanna do this?” he asked. “Just gather up your buddy, back the fuck off, and let us go.”

  “Yeah, right.” Thug number two let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. Dude was either incredibly brave or goddamned stupid. “I’m not going anywhere until you hand over the shit you got in the backseat. I didn’t come all the way out here to go home empty-handed again.”

  Damien lunged in with an elbow and caught the guy under the chin. The gangbanger spun away, his 9mm dropping from his grasp as he slumped to the ground beside his buddy. Small-time gangster bullshit. Damien hated dealing with this petty crap, but at least a clueless thug was easier to take down than a seasoned dealer. Tonight could have easily gone south. Joey was damned lucky.

  “Fuck yeah!” Joey shouted as he hopped up into the truck. “You’re a certifiable badass, Evans!” Damien hustled back to his side of the truck and hopped in. Joey threw the truck into gear and peeled out onto Federal Way, the tires squealing in his haste. “Damn, am I glad I brought you with me tonight.”

  Damien stowed his gun and rolled down the window to let the chill wind cool his heated face. Funny, none of what he’d just done made him feel like a badass.

  Why had she agreed to a blind date? Or even a double date, for that matter? Lila was chatting up a storm with Charlie, the guy she’d met at Liquid a couple of weeks ago. They’d been going strong since that night, and now Tabitha was being forced to endure small talk with Charlie’s friend—what in the hell was his name again? Josh?—while Lila seductively fed her date calamari from across the table. Ugh.

  “So you’re a nurse?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” Tabitha dragged her eyes from the spectacle of Lila feeding Charlie and turned her attention back to her date.

  He flashed her a knowing smile, as though watching her friend behave like a horny vixen was turning her on or something. Gross. “I said that Lila mentioned you were a nurse.”

  “I’m still in school.” She reached for her wineglass and drained it in a couple of swallows. Where in the hell is the waiter when you need him? “I just finished up the current semester and I’m about to start my clinical rotations in a month.”

  “Cool. So, if I passed out, could you do mouth-to-mouth on me?”

  It took all of the self-control she could muster not to roll her eyes. “Only if you stopped breathing,” she said, refusing to take his bait.

  Josh deflated a little but continued in his valiant attempt to make small talk. “Do you want to take care of babies or work in a swanky downtown clinic?”

  She opted to ignore his veiled misogyny. “My specialty is going to be trauma. I want to work in the ER.”

  “Triage.” Ooh, Josh was throwing down the twenty-five-cent words now. “Right?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Conversation dwindled and Tabitha caught their waiter’s eye. She raised her glass and he gave her a curt nod. It was going to take an entire bottle of wine to get her through tonight. Since yesterday, all she’d been able to think about was Damien. The intense and instant attraction she felt for him had thrown her for a loop. Her body came alive just at the sight of him, and last night’s episode in the parking lot had only served to solidify her infatuation. Every solid inch of him was masculine perfection, and Tabitha found herself wanting to reach out and test each and every hard edge.

  “Hellllloooo? Earth to Tabitha. Did you hear me?”

  Jeez, she must’ve been coming across like a total flake tonight. “Sorry, I was zoned out there for a second. What did you say?”

  Lila cut her a look and let out a slow breath. “I asked if you wanted to order another appetizer.”

  Not if she had to endure watching Lila hand-feed her date like he was a baby bird. “No, I’m good, but if you guys want something, go ahead and order.”

  Lila rolled her eyes and Tabitha knew she was treading on thin ice. She needed to kick it into gear and at least pretend like she was having a good time. But how could she when her mind was somewhere else? With someone else. Ugh. She was so stupid. Getting involved with Damien was not a good idea. He was in business with Joey, and that was enough to tell her that he was bad news. Still . . .

  Her phone rang from inside her purse and she dug it out and checked the caller ID. “It’s work, I need to take this,” she said to the table at large. Lila frowned and Tabitha gave a shrug before swiping a finger across the screen. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Dave said. “I know you’re double-dating it tonight, but I’ve got a minor problem. The key coder isn’t working. Can you come over and reset it real quick?”

  Part of her assistant manager duties included acting as a troubleshooter for the night shift. She couldn’t help but wonder if Sandy, the general manager, had these kinds of problems during the day, because it seemed like all of their equipment chose to malfunction at night. “I’m just a couple of blocks down the street. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “You’re the best, Tabs.”

  “Yeah, yeah. See you in a sec.”

  “No.” Lila looked horrified. Probably because she wasn’t interested in entertaining Josh. So sad. “You took the day off. That means you don’t go to work.”

  “It’ll only take a minute. I’m the only one who knows how to reboot our key coder. We’re dead in the water until I fix it.”

  �
��I can order for you,” Josh piped in.

  “Um, yeah, okay. Thanks.” She gathered up her purse and turned to leave. Knowing her luck, he’d order her veal or something that she absolutely refused to eat.

  “Don’t drag your feet,” Lila called from behind her. “Get that stupid thing fixed and get back here!”

  Tabitha raised her hand in acknowledgment and beelined it for the exit, more relieved for the distraction than she wanted to admit.

  “There. All fixed.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Dave said. “I swear to God, every single one of our check-ins decided to show up at the same time tonight. I’ve been swamped.”

  “No worries.” Tabitha logged out of the system and logged Dave back in.

  “So . . . how’s the date going?”

  “Don’t ask,” Tabitha answered on a groan. “I’m starting to think that nice guys just aren’t my thing.”

  “I could have told you that,” Dave said with a laugh. “If he’s not tattooed, he might as well not even bother.”

  Heh. Probably. Another wave of guests walked through the entrance and Tabitha motioned to a stack of blankets and pillows on the front desk. “What are those for?”

  “Oh, I need to take them up to room 502, but I haven’t had a free second to run them up.”

  “I can do it.” Tabitha scooped up the linens and rounded the corner. It’s not like she was anxious to get back to Josh and his small talk.

  “I owe you a dinner,” Dave said. “Thanks.”

  “No worries,” she said as she headed for the elevator. “’Night, Dave!”

  “See ya!”

  It wasn’t lost on her that she was delivering the linens to the room next door to the one she’d put Damien up in. Nor was she simply being nice by offering to come up here for Dave. She was sick. Sick for hoping to get even a glimpse of him. God, what was wrong with her?

  She knocked on the door and as she waited for someone in room 502 to answer, the creak of hinges from the next room drew her attention. Her breath caught in her chest as her gaze locked with Damien’s feral gold eyes.