Satisfied all was in place and his plane ready for a trip to the hangar, he ambled down the plane’s steps to the tarmac. The gray and blustery midday weather was typical for late December in Dallas, the wind gusting hard enough to yank a few chunks of his ponytail free before he’d made it ten feet from the plane. What was a bit of a shocker was finding his dually parked outside the main charter office instead of behind the hangar where he’d left it and Zeke and Axel loitering beside it.
He shook his head and headed their direction. God, they were a meddlesome pair. For that matter, all of his brothers were when they felt a need to look out for their own. He strolled up to his truck and the dynamic duo waiting for him on the passenger side. “Don’t you think you’re taking this alibi thing to extremes?”
Axel grinned and pushed off the back fender he’d been leaning on. “Brother, in about an hour, the Feds are going to swoop in and find a shitload of bootleg pharmaceuticals and designer drugs in Wyatt Jordan’s medicine cabinet. You can bet your ass the first thing our good doctor is going to do is point a finger your direction.”
“He’s gonna do that no matter what happens.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing you’ve been in Chicago for the last thirty-six hours, but Zeke and I are gonna make sure you don’t muck up a stellar alibi by disappearing from the public eye right before shit goes down.”
Much as he hated to admit it, Axel had a point. He rubbed his knuckles against his chin. “All right then, what’s the plan from here?”
“We head to The Den,” Zeke said. “We’ll hang out in full view and have a few beers while the rest of the guys monitor Dr. Feelgood’s head-on collision with the Feds.”
“Last time I checked, I could navigate all the way to my pub without tour guides. Pretty sure I can keep myself in plain sight without a chaperone, too.”
“Getting there and staying in plain sight, we’d buy,” Axel said. “Showing restraint and not picking up the phone every five fucking minutes is another thing entirely.”
“I restrain myself just fine.”
Zeke gaped at him. “Really? ’Cause I’m not thinking your middleman feels the same way right about now. The poor bastard’s going to drink through a straw for at least a month and won’t take an easy breath for longer than that.” He tossed Trevor his keys. “Don’t be a stubborn ass. Get in the truck. We’ll help you wait it out.”
Meddlesome. Fucking. Bastards. If he got through the next few hours without losing his cool, the first thing on the agenda was to pay both of them back big-time.
Axel chuckled. “Don’t fight it, brother. Besides, I have it on high authority your pretty young lass got called in to work this afternoon. By the time we get there and settled at our table, she’ll only be twenty minutes behind you.”
“Natalie’s not off from her day job until four. Plus, I gave her the rest of the holidays off. She’s had enough shit to deal with.” That and the idea of any man pawing her without him there to smash their faces made him livid.
“Well, she’s on now,” Axel said. “Jace and I stopped at The Den for a drink on the way home last night and had a nice little chat with Ivan. Somewhere along the way he got the impression an extra set of hands for tonight might be a good idea.”
“That chat have something to do with us exploring bringing him into the fold?”
“Gotta start somewhere. Might as well see how inclined he is for action without much in the way of answers.”
“Yeah? How’d he do?”
“Only thing he was concerned about was pissing off the man who signed his checks every month.”
“And?”
Axel grinned huge. “Jace told him if you canned him, he’d start him at Crossroads the next day and double his pay.”
Figured. Jace knew good help when he saw it. Though if he thought he could steal Trevor’s most solid employee, he was in for a huge surprise.
Axel boxed him on the shoulder. “Stop scowling and get in the truck or I’ll take over drivin’.”
“Jesus, that’s a dangerous proposition in this monstrosity.” Zeke reached for the front passenger side door.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doin’?” Axel jerked his thumb toward the back cab. “Yer aff yer heid, if you think I’m ridin’ bitch.”
Zeke scoffed, but shifted to the back door. “Scottish fucking prima donna.”
Trevor shook his head and rounded the hood. Every damned one of his brothers were nuts and protective as hell at all the worst times, but he had to admit, having them close wasn’t a bad idea. God knew he’d had some insane impulses since he’d taken off this morning, the bulk of which vacillated between checking Natalie back into their hotel so they could pick up where they left off two days ago, and taking Wyatt out of the equation with his own two hands.
The trip to The Den went as fast as traffic in south Dallas would allow, every mile filled with Axel’s random chatter on everything from his Super Bowl predictions to a new live music venue he’d been toying with developing. Thirty minutes later, they were loaded up with round one and headed to the isolated table reserved for the brotherhood.
For a late afternoon on a Tuesday, the crowd wasn’t bad, most tables taken up by men and women dressed in business casual clothes and haggard expressions that spoke of a work week off to a rough start.
Zeke tugged his phone from his back pocket, checked the screen, and stopped on a dime.
Axel took one look at him and halted as well.
“What?” Trevor said.
Zeke handed over his phone, the text application pulled up with a long running conversation from Knox on the screen.
Trevor read it. Then read it again.
The line was long but we finally got tickets to the show. Waiting for the previews.
He frowned and handed the phone back to Zeke. “What the hell is this?”
Zeke stuffed the phone in his back pocket, chin-lifted toward their table, and ambled that direction. “That’s Knox being technically paranoid. It means Gia just got called back for her appointment. He gave me a whole string of phrases before we left to pick you up at the airport.”
Axel tromped up the four steps to the raised platform. “If I didn’t respect Knox’s skills, I’d swear he does that shite just to mess with us.”
Trevor was just about to follow his brothers up the stairs when Ivan hustled out of the back hallway. “Yo, boss. Hold up.”
With a quick nod to Zeke and Axel, Trevor redirected and met Ivan halfway. Judging from the look on his face, someone had either screwed up royally, or his manager had a serious case of guilt. “Something up?”
“Yeah, uh...” He glanced at Axel who just grinned and raised his glass. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Your brothers were in last night and said they were sending some rowdy convention-goers our direction for happy hour. They thought Natalie might appeal to the crowd and give us a helping hand.”
“You call her in?” Sure he already knew, but how Ivan answered would tell a lot about how things might roll in the months to come.
“They’re your brothers, and you trust ‘em. I figured that meant I should trust ’em too, so yeah. I called her. She said she’d come straight from work.”
Now that was a damned good answer. Hell, if he’d have scripted it out for the guy, Ivan couldn’t have done better. He clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it. You made the right call.” He turned to walk away, then stopped. “And for the record, I don’t care how much Jace offers to pay you, you bail for Crossroads, we’ll have words.”
Ivan smiled huge and splayed his hand over his heart. “Ah, man. You already knew.”
“‘’’Course I knew. They’re crazy as hell, but they’re my brothers. We tell each other everything.” He paused long enough to make sure Ivan heard the next part of his mess
age loud and clear. “You keep that in mind. Hard to step into my world when you’re holding secrets.”
For a second, Ivan’s smile slipped, a stunned look leaving him with an uncustomary loss for words. “That mean what I think it means?”
“Depends. You figure out how much you’re willing to share and we’ll play it from there.” Whether or not it was enough of a nudge to get Ivan to come clean on what Trevor suspected was an ugly past, only time would tell, but he’d given the guy the only chance he’d get.
Before Ivan could follow up with any questions, Natalie whisked through the opening that led from the front part of the bar and beelined it for the tables up front. Nothing ever slowed her down at work. Not her troubles at home. Not how many customers were assigned to her section, or the hassles said customers doled out. She was all point A to point B. Get it done and don’t mess around. Funny how he saw so much more to her now though. The softness behind the determined mask she showed everyone else. The tiny kindnesses she offered complete strangers. How her smiles weren’t just geared for tips, but held genuine warmth.
Yeah, looking at her today took on a whole different perspective than that night he’d nearly canned her. Talk about your silver linings.
As if she sensed him watching, she whipped her head around, caught his gaze, and shot him a blazing smile. Even with thirty feet of bar space and six rows of tables separating them, he couldn’t miss her pretty blush.
Forcing his gaze away from Natalie, Trevor cleared his throat and focused on Ivan. “Do me a favor. Change up the table assignments. Make sure Nat’s on the brotherhood’s table.”
“Already did.” Ivan fought back a canary-eating grin and shrugged. “Figured that’s how things were gonna roll with you two.”
Of course, he had. The guy had an uncanny ability to read situations. Not exactly a leap for him to figure out where things were headed with him and Natalie. “Just keep that in mind when those handsy college boys start getting too close to her. Getting crosswise with you, they’ve got a chance of living through. If I see them so much as think dirty thoughts her direction, them breathing long-term will be a sketchy proposition.”
“You got it, boss.” And then he was off, swaggering toward the bar with a confidence a man could only earn the hard way.
Trev prowled back toward his table. Only two steps up, he got a load of Zeke and Axel’s tight expressions and slowed his gait. “What happened?”
“We’re waiting.” Zeke handed over the phone.
Showtime.
Fuck but he hated waiting. Hated it even worse when he couldn’t so much as lay eyes on what was going down. He jerked the chair next to Axel out from under the table and dropped onto the seat. “Appreciate all the alibi logistics, but you gotta know, me sitting here with my thumb up my ass goes against the grain. I could send Vicky home and at least stay front and center tending bar.”
“True.” Zeke waggled his cell phone and grinned. “But then you’d miss Knox’s play-by-play, and coded or not, it’s not the kind of conversation that needs to happen near the bar.”
Axel tipped his Scotch toward Natalie at the far end of the room. “Not thinkin’ the view from here’s such a hardship either.”
Hell no it wasn’t. If they had any clue how good the package was beneath Natalie’s snug jeans and fitted T-shirt, they’d take pity and find a way to get Trevor some much-needed alone time.
For about the seventieth time that day, his thoughts shifted to the ring locked up in his office safe. Waiting was the right thing to do. At least that’s what logic kept telling him, but his gut kept arguing back and calling him a coward. “Our next rally still on schedule for Friday?”
“Yup,” Zeke said. “Everyone’s in town and juggling night shifts so we’re meeting at two.”
Axel chuckled in that sinister way that promised a whole lot of heckling. “You got something you’re planning to add to the agenda? Maybe something about the woman with the killer rack that’s headed our way?”
Sure as shit, Natalie meandered through the occupied tables toward their end of the bar, an empty tray tucked under her arm while she carefully scanned who was close to needing another round. She twisted just in time to catch his gaze and cocked her head as if to ask if it was all right for her to head up. On anyone else, the action was expected. No one—absolutely no one—approached their table without a nod first. The fact that Natalie thought she still had to ask felt sixty different kinds of wrong.
He crooked a finger at her. Not taking his gaze off Natalie and the sway of her hips, he muttered to Axel, “You like your eyes in your head?”
“Well, the lasses tell me they’re one of my finest assets, and they’re handy for getting around, so yeah, I think it’s best they stay put.”
Trevor grinned and scooted his chair far enough away from the table to make room for Natalie in his lap. “Then do me a favor. Be smart and don’t look at or comment on my woman’s rack.”
Axel and Zeke both barked out a laugh just as Natalie took the last of the steps.
“Well, you three seem in good spirits.” She dipped her head to the drinks they’d picked up at the bar on the way in. “Anyone need a refill yet, or are you coasting on whatever’s already got you buzzed?”
Loosely manacling his fingers around her wrist, he tugged her off balance, spun her on the way down and caught her in his lap.
She whooped loud enough to draw a whole lot of attention then went stiff in his arms just as fast. She dug the heels of her hands into his shoulders and tried to stand up. “Trevor, we’re at work.”
He held firm and tugged her torso closer. “I know where we are.” He nuzzled her neck, soaked in her light scent and lowered his voice. “You change your mind about loving me yet?”
She giggled and relaxed her arms, instinctively tilting her head for just a little more access. Her voice was even quieter than his, but filled with laughter all the same. “You’ve asked me that three times a day since we left the hotel. My answer’s still the same.”
“I’m still not tired of hearing it.” He lifted his head. “Say it again.”
Only for a second did she hesitate, peeking at Axel and Zeke, who were doing their damnedest to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. Her sweet smile glowed with a soft sincerity that moved through him like the sunrises on his ranch. “I love you.”
He threaded his fingers in her hair, the silk of it cool against his knuckles. “I love you, too. Enough I don’t care who’s around me. I’m not hiding it. Not here. Not anywhere.”
“But people will talk. And if anything—”
“Don’t care if they talk. They so much as look at you funny, they’ll be minus a job.”
She frowned down at him. “Trevor, you can’t just fire people for gossip.”
“Darlin’, you have no idea what I’m capable of doing for you.” He urged her closer. “Now are you going to give me a welcome home kiss and grace everyone watching with a proper shock, or do I need to cart you out of here over my shoulder to make it clear you’re mine?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
For the barest second, her eyes narrowed, a hot blast of stubbornness firing behind her beautiful dark eyes before her lips curled in a sexy smile. She leaned close enough to whisper against his mouth. “I guess a little kiss wouldn’t be too bad.”
Her lips pressed against his, a soft but utterly perfect fit against his. This was what he’d needed. Not a drink. Not a pair of rambunctious do-good babysitters or any other inane diversion. Just Nat. Her scent. Her touch. Her genuine, heartfelt kiss.
Zeke cleared his throat in a none-too-subtle “Ahem.”
Nowhere near ready to surface from the temporary solace he’d found, Trevor forced himself to pull away and scowled at his brother. “There a problem?”
“Hard
ly.” Zeke motioned to his phone, picked up his beer, and raised it in salute. “Just thought you’d want to know. That little thing you were waiting on? Just got word it’s signed, sealed, and delivered.”
Chapter Thirty
One Crown and Coke, two Buds, and a house merlot. Natalie punched the button on the screen that finalized her latest order, logged out of the system and spun—only to find Vicky looking at her funny from behind the bar.
For a pub with only a ten—to twelve-person crew on the busiest nights, word of her and Trevor being an item had sure traveled fast. Granted, most had given her purely curious looks, but a few were flat-out nasty. Thankfully, Vicky seemed to fall in the curious category.
Natalie pasted on the same fake, over-bright smile she had with all the waitresses and forged ahead. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a Tuesday this busy.”
Bless her heart, Vicky bit back the questions dancing behind her eyes and played along with the lame attempt at small talk. “Yeah, Ivan said something about a convention going on nearby.”
Well, that explained the last-minute call for her to come in, though she was pretty sure the extra set of hands was still overkill. Stuck waiting on her drink orders and already caught up with checking her tables, she shifted enough to check out the TVs mounted over the bar. Of the three, only one was tuned to a local station. The weatherman stood in front of an animated map of Texas and did his best to showcase a promised cold front by New Year’s Day.
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