Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3)

by Calinda B

  “Nope, not at all. Merely making choices.” He guided her up the walkway toward her house. Once inside, he poured some fresh water in Sidekick’s water bowl, retrieved a mug, and poured her some coffee. “Sit. Drink this,” he said.

  She sat numbly at the kitchen table, taking the coffee in her hand.

  “So, Ms. Tosetti. Here’s the way this is going to play out. If you don’t do any more shots tonight, you should be sober by midnight.”

  “How do you know?” she asked, sullenly.

  “Lots and lots of experience. You, of all people, should know this, too. I suggest you sleep it off but I’m not going to make you.”

  A nap did, in fact, sound good right now. “What are you going to do? Watch me sleep?”

  “Nope.”

  Ugh. He keeps saying that nope word.

  “I’m going to watch you drink the coffee, make sure you have some aspirin or ibuprofen in your system, walk you to your room and hope you fall asleep. Then I’m going to head home. To my home, that is, not yours.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, ouch. Big ouch. But it’s what I’m going to do. I’ve always got shit to do around the house. Building projects and such. I’ve gotten behind spending so much time with you.”

  What’s he doing to me? She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes began to fill with tears. “Will you ever come back?”

  “That depends on you, Beck. What I’ll never do…” The intensity of his words flared into instant combustion, like he’d put a match to gas soaked emotion. “What I’ll never do, never in a million years, not if my life depended on it, is beg you to stay. I refuse. You either want me or you don’t.” He ground the words out of a jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might shatter.

  She wanted to reach across and massage it, soothing him into submission.

  “Got it?” His blue eyes blazed.

  She averted her watery eyes.

  “Do you understand me, Beck?” Each word emerged slowly and distinctly. “I will not beg, ever.”

  His words lanced straight through her heart. “Uh huh,” she said, nodding, causing the tears to escape. “Got it.”

  “Good. Now finish your coffee so I can put you to bed.”

  Silently, she slurped the last dose of caffeine. As she staggered down the hall, a fresh wave of intoxication rolling through her, she clung to Zed, for more ways than mere drunkenness. “We’re not done,” she said.

  “Uh huh.”

  “We’re not.”

  “If you say so.”

  “You owe me some answers.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “I mean it.”

  Zed ignored her, pulling down the sheets. He tugged her shirt over her head and she thought she heard him draw in a quick breath of air.

  If the alcohol wasn’t bidding a war against the caffeine, she’d have thrust out her chest, enticing him to suck her nipples.

  He pulled down her pants and, again, took in a rapid breath before laying his warm forehead on her belly, as he crouched before her.

  She placed her hands on his head, stroking his hair. The room began to spin and seesaw, making it impossible to stand upright. Her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the bed.

  Zed swung her legs under the covers and pulled them up under her chin. He smoothed them with apparent longing, looking at her with such a sad expression; it made her want to cry all over again. Without another word, he kissed her forehead, spun on his heel and exited the room, leaving her to spin around and around, her head filled with fuzzy regrets and self-recrimination.

  Chapter 28

  Acute loneliness cracked through his heart. “Love sucks,” Zed said to the empty space at dawn. “Sucks, sucks, sucks hard.” He seized a wad of bedding, threw back the covers, swung his legs over the side and stalked into the bathroom. “I’ve got to start the en suite bathroom so I don’t have to keep heading down the hall to piss or shower or…but wait—I’ve been a little preoccupied…with this love shit.” He picked up one of Beck’s socks dropped in the hall and threw it. It fluttered, ineffectually, against the wall.

  He missed her presence. He missed the dog, trotting by his side in the morning. He’d been the one to feed him, prepare coffee, bring it back to Beck, sit in bed with her and slowly, sensuously wake up together leaving them with hot bodies and cold coffee. “Fuck.” He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the memories. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. My fucking brother.”

  He hoped Beck was okay today. He hoped she’d rot in hell. Not true, you big dummy, and you know it. Maybe I should plead with her to reconsider. He dropped that thought, fast. Not begging, ever again. He’d been humiliated enough in his lifetime. Thank you, Lawson, you big son of a bitch. He let out a huge sigh.

  With a heavy heart, he paced to the kitchen and scooped ground coffee into the little measuring cup. It hung, poised over the coffeemaker, when the back kitchen door opened.

  Beck slunk in the door, looking beautiful, hung-over and chagrined. Sidekick pushed past her and trotted toward him, tail wagging, eyes bright.

  He made a quick sweep of her sexy body, dressed in a gray sweatshirt and jeans—nothing could hide her appeal—and turned away. “Hey, dog, what’s the news?” He reached down to ruffle the dog’s fur, not daring to meet Beck’s eyes.

  “Are you talking to me?” she said.

  He ignored her, scrubbing the dog’s coat with his fingers.

  Sidekick kept the happy greeting going as long as possible, licking Zed’s hand, eagerly accepting Zed’s petting. He finally sat and woofed, prompting Zed to conduct their newly formed daily ritual.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know the routine.” Zed stepped to the counter, pulled a dog biscuit from the jar Beck had brought over. He turned to the dog, still avoiding Beck, and placed it on his nose. “Okay, countdown. Five, four, three, two, go!”

  The Labrador flipped his muzzle and caught the biscuit, chomping it down in two bites.

  “There you go. That’s it. Okay. Good boy. Go lay down.”

  Sidekick trotted to his blanket, turned in a few circles and settled down.

  Zed continued with his rushed morning ritual.

  “Ahem,” Beck said. “Extremely apologetic, completely contrite girlfriend over here.”

  “I see you.” His lips quirked into an almost smile, then fell back to grim frown.

  “With those eyes in the back of your head? Those eyes?”

  “Yep.” He reached for a frying pan, set it on a burner, retrieved the egg carton from the fridge and pulled three free from their papery nests. “Those are the ones. Care for some eggs?”

  “No, thank you. I think I’ll hurl if I eat eggs. I managed to keep down some dry toast this morning. Not so lucky last night.”

  “I’ve got bread if you want more,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. He pulled the multi-grain bread from the refrigerator, tossing it to her before heading to the stove.

  She caught it with a somewhat surprised expression, as far as he could discern through his sidelong glance. “Well, okay, then.” She pulled a piece from the colorful wrapper sporting a cartoon drawing of a big dude with his arms crossed over this chest.

  Some former felon turned good guy, like Mitch, started the bakery, employing other felons who wanted to change. Damn good bread. Zed eyed Beck’s back as she plunked it in the toaster. Pushed the lever down. Folded her arms and leaned against the counter. He dropped his eyes to the sizzling eggs.

  “Is this how it’s going to be? Are you through with me?”

  “Not sure how much you remember,” Zed said, stirring his eggs, “but I told you that depends on you. I’m not the one who decided to get hammered and flee.”

  Beck’s arms dropped. “I know, I know, I know. I got scared. Your brother is…well, he’s way psycho. He unnerved me.” She threw her hands in the air, at least that’s what it looked like.

  He kept his gaze to himself for the most part, directing darting glances her way.

  “I’m not use
d to being unnerved by a guy. Have you ever seen him switch personas like that?” She snapped her fingers.

  Zed scowled. “What do you think? Do you think that behavior just began? He’s been at war too long. Now he carries the war with him everywhere he goes.” He grabbed a pancake turner and scraped the eggs onto his plate. He dropped the pan in the sink with a clatter, stalked to the table and sat. Adding salt to the eggs, he wolfed them down, being watched by Beck the whole time.

  “He…he…he asked me out, then trapped me in the hallway when I refused to acknowledge him. I’m not used to being overpowered by a guy. He scared the shit out of me.”

  Fucking bastard, Zed thought. That fucking bastard. He dropped his fork on the plate with a loud clatter.

  “And he…he…you were right. He’s been hunting you. He admitted coming to the high school. That’s how he knew who I was…one of the ways, at least. He could have seen us anywhere.”

  A cold chill marched up Zed’s back, like tiny soldiers tromping through an icy terrain. His breath caught in his throat. “Motherfucker,” he growled.

  “And then he told me you made up your whole victim stance.”

  “I’m nobody’s victim,” Zed said, through clenched teeth.

  Her toast popped up. She grabbed it, placed it on a paper towel and took a few timid steps to where he sat. “Is he…will you ever tell me what happened in San Francisco? About the girl sharing? I think I sounded pretty judgmental last night but I’ve had a wild time or two.” She smiled, reached a hand out to touch his.

  He stared at it, weighing the comfort against his bruised heart. When he slowly withdrew it, she winced.

  “Come on, baby. What do you want from me? I apologize from every angle of my heart—top, bottom, sides, inside, outside.”

  “I don’t know.” He stared at the smeared yellow yolk remaining on his plate. Took his index finger and swiped it clean, popping it in his mouth and sucking it.

  “Do you want me to beg? I’ll beg.”

  “Actually, that might be nice for a change.” The constricting bands around his chest lightened somewhat.

  “Please, please, please don’t give up on me. Tell me your story and give me a chance to hear it for myself. I’m begging you to not give up on us. I’ve fallen hard for you, Zed. Harder than I’ve ever fallen in my life. I got scared. Can you blame me? Your brother is one scary ass male.”

  Zed let out a long breath, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah. This sucks. Ever since I called you last evening I’ve felt like an elephant’s been sitting on my chest getting more and more comfortable as he squeezes the life out of me. I’ve been in hell. I woke up missing you, missing Sidekick.” He swiped at his eyes. “Actually I started missing you the minute you didn’t show up at Tapt’s.”

  “Missed you, too. Big time. And it’s worse than an elephant sitting on you. It’s King Kong. We’ve got to get through this, baby.”

  “That’s what I want to do.” Zed finally turned to look at her resplendent eyes. “People make mistakes.”

  “People do. I know I sure did.”

  “I don’t blame you, though. I’d be wondering about me, too, if your brother confronted me and told me dirt about you. But I’d have given you a chance, Beck honey. I’d have listened to you first.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry. I resorted to old ways of covering up the pain. And you…” She sniffled.

  Zed handed her a paper napkin from the holder in the middle of the island.

  “You’re too nice to me. You actually own your mistakes. I’m…well, I’m not used to that. Most guys don’t own their shit.”

  “I’m not most guys.”

  “You’re not. That’s what I love about you. That’s why I fell so hard. Truce?” she said, hopefully, after patting her eyes dry.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Hug?”

  He considered. “Not yet. I’ve got to jet.”

  Her face fell. “Where are you going? I thought we had plans today.”

  His eyebrows rose, indicating what he thought of their once made plans.

  She winced, as if he’d lifted his hand to hit her.

  “I’m, uh, leaving, actually.”

  Her gorgeous eyes widened in alarm.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. Last minute trip.” He stood, took his plate to the sink and washed it, setting it on the counter to dry. While in washing mode, he picked up the pan he’d practically flung into the stainless steel sink, and scrubbed it, as well, trying to get a handle on all these sensations simmering in his chest. The feeling of being suffocated by a two-ton lead weight began to abate, being replaced with lightness and warmth. Still, caution held the keys to his heart in a tight grip.

  “Are you going to tell me where you’re going?”

  He wanted to turn and snarl at her…something to the effect of “You’d know if you’d have given me a chance,” or “Yeah, I was going to ask you to join me until you got hammered.” Instead, he parsed out a long breath, pivoted, and said, “San Diego. I’m going to go back to California and see if I can recover my memories by re-tracing my steps.”

  So many emotions flitted across her face, he couldn’t decipher them.

  “You never called the doctor I told you about,” she said, flatly.

  His head sliced right and left. “Actually, I called and then hung up. I called Mitch instead.”

  “Right.” She drew the word out. “Good old Mitch. Does he have a medical degree?” The words hung like a fuse in the air.

  He could see her temper barely held in check, as evidenced by her flushed throat and face and rapid breathing. She looked about two seconds from an H-bomb explosion. “No, and he didn’t want to suggest that. He urged me to call the psychologist, too.”

  Her eyes narrowed into slits. “When, exactly, were you going to tell me this?”

  “When do you think? I wanted you to come with me. My boss left a message for me late last night, probably at the time I was sobering you up. I asked him yesterday if he’d send me. He needs me to check on some plant stock down there. Seeds and other stuff. I’ve been refusing for months. But after talking to Mitch, I wanted to see if I could do a little memory recovery, get my work done, and spend some time in the warm sea with you.” He gave her a frosty glare. “I promise, if it doesn’t work, I’ll call the shrink. This scares me but it’s worth a shot.”

  “You shouldn’t be doing this alone.” She pushed her long fiery mane over her shoulder decisively.

  He shrugged.

  “I’m coming, too.”

  He dragged his hand through his hair. “Beck honey…I have to leave ten minutes ago. You know how long it takes to get to the airport from here. My flight’s at ten forty. At this rate, I’ll barely make it.”

  Beck sprang to her feet and became instantly busy. “Okay, I’ll finish cleaning up here. You go. I’ve got to find someone to watch Sidekick. How long will we be gone?”

  Zed let himself smile for the first time today. “I’m coming back tomorrow night. Red eye flight. I’ve got to keep up with my training.”

  “Okay. Okay. We’re coming back tomorrow. That’s perfect because I have to work on Monday, as you know. I don’t care if I’ve only had an hour worth of sleep, I’ll manage. You go, I’ll deal with my dog, finish cleaning the kitchen. I’ll try to get a ticket on one of those cheap flight sites. Either that, or fly stand-by. Text me the hotel when you get to the airport. We’re doing this together, got it? No heroics until I get there. Wait for me, please, Zed.”

  Zed bit his lip, still smiling. “I really love you, Beck.”

  “That’s good, because I don’t know what I’d do if I blew it with you, Zed. Now go! Shoo!”

  “Not so fast,” he said, his cock doing a “Thank God you two have made up,” dance of joy. “One fine hug and kiss, coming your way.”

  Chapter 29

  Anxiety pumping through his veins, Zed rode the chrome and wood veneer elevator up in the three-star hotel where
his brother had stayed. As luck or fate, or perhaps a cursed life would have it, he’d managed to snag a room right next to where Lawson had done his gun waving. No way in hell would he stay in the actual room. Fuck, no.

  His overnight bag deposited on the bed, he picked up the colorful plastic hotel menu resting on his pillow. His stomach had been growling for the last hour and a half. Room service it is. A juicy burger, fries, and a Coke. Junk food, I know, I know. He’d been on a pretty solid diet lately training for the triathlon. Right now he wanted what he wanted.

  While he waited for his food, the phone in his pocket chimed, indicating a text message.

  Hey, baby. I caught the flight after yours. Lucky, huh? Just landed. How long to get to the hotel?

  Take a taxi or shuttle. It’s about twenty minutes.

  Heading to the shuttle zone. See you soon.

  Nineteen minutes later, food consumed, mind and body restless for all sorts of reasons, good and bad, Zed opened the door to his room, propped it ajar with the security swing lock and stepped into the hall. He stared at the door next to his, his heartrate accelerating. Sweat beaded along his forehead and neck. His nerves wound to high alert, like a rattlesnake tail shaking in warning. His legs carried him back and forth in front of the door, as if propelled by their own volition.

  “Zed, please.”

  “Please what?” He blinked a couple times to clear his vision. Beck? He jerked, startled. “What are you doing? Where are we?” A vista of San Diego in the afternoon encircled him in three hundred and sixty spectacular degrees.

  Beck looked scared, her face pale as the clouds overhead, her fiery hair fluttering like a flag in the wind. “Is that really you? Are you back?”

  “Back from what?” His head whipped side to side, trying to orient. He pivoted in a slow circle, taking in the charming city from one direction and the breaking waves, crashing along the shore from another. A few lounge chairs were scattered here and there, along with an empty red plastic drink cup and several cigarette butts.