by Shauna Allen
I peeked over at his strong profile. “I really appreciate how good you are with my grandfather,” I admitted. “Thank you for spending time with him. I know he enjoys it.”
He shot me a quick, smiling glance. “I enjoy spending time with him, too. He’s a cool guy.”
My heart melted just a little as tears filled my eyes. “Yeah, he’s the best.” I bit my lip and turned my face down to my lap. “He’s getting weaker.”
“I’d kind of noticed that,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded, overcome. I knew this was coming, but somehow, that didn’t make it any easier. My grandfather was dying and there wasn’t one damn thing I could do about it other than love him and make him as comfortable as possible for whatever time he had left.
Suddenly, Tanner’s big, warm hand was cupped over mine. “What’s the prognosis?”
I didn’t move my hand from under his, selfishly letting him comfort me. “Not good. He’s already lived longer than they said he would.”
“Damn, Rebekah. I don’t know what to say.” He brushed his thumb along the back of my hand in a soothing motion and it felt entirely too intimate and entirely too good.
“There’s nothing to say.” I blinked to clear my eyes and looked up. “But thanks for taking me out tonight. I needed a break.”
He smiled. “My pleasure.”
The restaurant was beautiful, the food was delicious, and the company was wonderful. I’d only known Tanner a week, but I could easily see myself dating him . . . falling for him . . . and as he stared at me across the candlelit table, sweet smile in place, wine flowing freely through my system, the idea was suddenly a lot less scary.
“What’s your last name?” I blurted.
His eyes shuttered just a fraction, but quickly cleared. “Richardson.”
“And you do security.”
“Among other things,” he hedged.
I sipped my wine. “So mysterious. What else do you do, Tanner Richardson?” I asked in my most sultry voice, though I was terribly out of practice.
His gaze grew dark and lusty. “I enjoy the company of beautiful women.”
I choked on my drink. “Wow. You are a hopeless flirt, aren’t you?” I smiled at him, but he wasn’t smiling back.
He shrugged and leaned forward, trapping one of my hands underneath his on the table. “In this case, I’m just speaking the truth.” He tilted his head. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”
I opened my mouth, closed it, met his gaze head-on. “A little bit,” I finally admitted.
“Why is that?”
“Because.” I drew my hand back and picked up my wine for another sip of liquid courage. “Look at you then look at me. It doesn’t compute.”
His frown was fast and fierce. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re stunning. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
I gaped. “No—”
“You care to wager on that?”
Now I frowned. “Wager?”
“Yes.”
“How . . .? What are you talking about?”
He sat forward and plucked up my wine glass for a sip of his own, making sure to put his lips where mine had just been, making me hot all over. He carefully placed my glass back in front of me before looking me in the eye again. “Here’s the wager . . . you go sit at the bar by yourself.” He tilted his head toward the restaurant bar area. “I’ll bet you that a man hits on you within say, fifteen minutes tops.”
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Okay, fine.” I sat back, encouraged by my third glass of wine. “What if that doesn’t happen? What do I win?”
“What do you want?”
A hundred sexy things filtered through my brain in a rush. I blinked and flushed when his smirk told me he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Your muscles,” I finally blurted.
His brows lifted. “Excuse me?”
I licked my lips. “Um . . . yeah.” My body suddenly felt like it was on fire. “Let me explain that . . . ever since my grandmother died, I’ve been meaning to plant a tree in her memory, but I’m not strong enough and Grandpa can’t help me obviously, but I’d really love to get that done, so . . . your muscles.” I jerked up my wine and took a slug.
“Right. I can handle that. Not that you’ll win.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Confident. What if you win? What do you want?”
His gaze dipped to my lips then tracked back up in a slow perusal of my face, as if he was memorizing every feature. “A kiss.”
My throat went dry as we stared at each other. “A . . . a kiss?”
He nodded.
“You’re serious?”
“Seems fair.”
My stomach began to churn. Was he playing me? Something in me said no . . . or maybe didn’t care. “Fine.” I stood and ran my hands down my thighs, enjoying the way his eyes followed the motion. “You’re on.” I spun to head to the bar, but peeked at him over my shoulder, catching him staring at my ass. I waited until he lifted his gaze to mine. “Hope you’re ready for a workout. It’s gonna be a big tree.” And with that, I sauntered off, making sure to sway my hips more than usual just because I knew he was looking and loving the fact that he was.
I moved to the farthest end of the bar and climbed up onto a bar stool, smiling at the bartender. I ordered yet another glass of wine and settled in to wait out my requisite fifteen minutes. I sipped, twirled the stem, licked my lips, and glanced around. Not a soul in sight. This was going to be an easy win. I shot him a smirk and a wave. He waved back, just as cocky.
I shook my head and turned back to my drink. I took another sip, but after a couple of minutes, I got bored. What in the world had Tanner been talking about? On a good day I could be cute, but stunning? Wow. Just . . . wow. I felt my face heat just thinking about it, so I pulled out my cell phone to Google types of trees to keep myself busy.
Just as I had magnolia in the search bar, I felt a shadow fall over me. I glanced at the clock on my phone and smiled. Thirteen minutes.
“Giving up so—?” I lifted my head and the words fell from my mouth as an older, distinguished looking man in a suit slid onto the stool next to me and offered me a smile as he ordered a shot.
“Hello.” His voice was deep and slid along my skin like butter. He tilted his head toward my glass. “Can I buy you another drink?”
“I . . .” I felt Tanner’s eyes burning holes into my back. I ignored him. “Can I ask you a question first?”
The man accepted his drink. “Sure.”
“Do you know a man named Tanner Richardson?”
“Can’t say that I do.” He threw back his shot in one smooth swallow and dropped the glass to the bar. “Why? Should I?”
“Nope.”
“So . . .” He glanced down at my wine. “Would you like another?”
I bit my lip. Was this man hitting on me? It’d been a while, but it kinda felt like it. But, there was a lot riding on this bet. I’d better be sure. “I’d like that.” I smiled up at him. “Thank you.”
He waved down the bartender and ordered me another glass of wine and a beer for himself. He chatted me up while we drank, and overall, I found him to be very nice. His name was Thomas, he was passing through town on his way to Mobile for work. He did some kind of IT work. He was married with a couple of kids. He showed me their photos. Nothing screamed that he was hitting on me. Just a nice guy passing the time. I was so winning this bet.
And then I felt his hand on my knee.
I shot a horrified glance down as he slid his palm up my thigh and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Come back to my hotel with me?”
I scrambled off the bar stool so fast, it toppled and I nearly fell, but a pair of strong arms caught me. I flailed, fighting them off, but I recognized Tanner’s scent right away.
“Not tonight, buddy,” I heard him murmur before drawing me away and out of the restaurant under the protection of his embrace.
“Je
sus. What a jerk,” I fumed once we were out in the parking lot. I glared up at Tanner from my seat in the truck. “He was married!”
He shrugged. “It happens.”
I gaped. “Wha . . .” I waited until he rounded and slid in to his seat. “Wait a second. Are you married?”
This made him chuckle. “No. Absolutely not.”
I was feeling a bit discombobulated now. I wasn’t naïve. I’d experienced more in my life than most and I worked in a casino, for crying out loud, but something about that guy at the bar made me feel . . . dirty.
I glanced over at Tanner’s profile as he started the truck. “I’ll never understand people.”
He shifted to face me. “I’m sorry, Rebekah. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I hope you know I would’ve never let that get out of hand. Ever. The minute he touched you, game over.”
I could see it all over his face, in his body language. He meant it. He wouldn’t have let anything happen to me. I nodded and dropped my gaze to my hands, which were knotted in my lap.
My heart leapt to my throat when he brushed the hair back from my cheek so he could see my face, his fingertips caressing my flesh. “So, pretty lady, what do you say?” He waited until I lifted my head and met his gaze. “I think I won that bet fair and square.”
Chapter Ten
Tanner
Rebekah blinked those big baby blues up at me and I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to kiss her or not, so I threaded my fingers through her thick mass of platinum curls and cupped her head. She sucked in a choppy breath and leaned into me a fraction and I had my answer.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I warned, my voice low and gritty, just to be sure we were on the same page and she wouldn’t run from me.
She nodded against my palm. “I know.”
Jesus, she was too sweet. I lowered my mouth and whispered my lips across hers in a gentle caress. Once. Twice. Just a taste. A tease.
But she moaned and gripped my shoulders, practically falling into my chest, and I was lost. I used my tongue to ease the seam of her mouth open and she let me in readily, her tongue dancing with mine as if I was coming home. Slowly, we kissed, learning each other, tasting and savoring. The flavors of wine and Rebekah exploded on my palate.
All too soon, it was over, and she drew back, her eyes wary and her breath loud in the quiet cab.
I wiped a thumb down my lips, imagining I could still feel her heat. Damn. One taste of her was not going to be enough. Not by a long shot. I peered over at her, but she looked suddenly nervous. “Do you need to get home or do you want to go somewhere else?”
Her hands stilled in her lap. “Like where?”
“Wherever you want. We could go get a drink or dessert. Take a walk. Go dancing. It’s your night. You name it, baby.”
Her eyes flared at the endearment that rolled off my tongue, but I wouldn’t take it back.
“Well . . .”
“What? I’m serious. Name it. Anything.”
“Well, I heard about this other casino down the road that has a really nice bar with live music. I’ve been wanting to go check it out, if—”
“Done.” I put the car in gear. “What’s it called?”
She rattled off the name and I plugged it into my phone for directions then headed off.
The casino and bar were hopping, but I kept my eyes peeled for any potential threats as I took her hand and led her through the crowd to a small table in the back. She stayed close to my side and I liked that she didn’t try to pull away from me.
The band was already going full force and a waitress came and took our drink order as soon as we sat down.
Rebekah’s eyes were everywhere, taking it in for entirely different reasons than I did, and I had a hard time keeping my gaze off her now that I knew what those lips tasted like.
After we had our drinks and a slow song came on, I leaned over. “Would you like to dance?”
She only hesitated a moment before placing her hand in mine. “Sure.”
We made it to the dance floor and I tucked her into my embrace. In heels, the top of her head barely reached my nose, but she still fit me perfectly. We swayed to the music and I let myself believe, if only for those few moments, that I was just any other man, holding a woman. Nothing more, nothing less.
She cuddled into me, holding tight, and I inhaled her sweet berry scent, enjoying how the alcohol she’d consumed tonight made her loose and relaxed. She wasn’t drunk, but she wasn’t putting up all the walls she usually did, trying to be Superwoman, and I was suddenly glad I could do that for her.
I ran my nose across the top of her head and pressed a kiss to her crown. “This feels good,” I murmured.
She hummed her agreement.
The dance floor was crowded and people bumped into us, but it was like we were in our own little bubble. She didn’t move her head from my chest as we danced slowly, even when the songs picked up the pace. I moved us to the outskirts of the floor and kept her in my arms until she finally lifted her face to meet my gaze, her eyes dreamy.
I was about a millisecond away from leaning down to kiss her again and I saw the hunger flash in her eyes. She parted her lips. Heat flooded my groin.
“Tanner?” A woman’s annoying, high-pitched voice crashed the moment. “Tanner Richardson? Is that you?”
Rebekah glanced to the side and all color drained from her face as our intimacy was lost and she pulled away from me.
I turned with narrowed eyes. It took a moment, but recognition dawned and my gut spasmed painfully. “Hey, Melanie. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, my God!” she cried, throwing herself into my arms, making me oomph as I had to catch her or go flying.
I set her down as fast as I could and stepped back. “Melanie, uh, this is Rebekah.” I turned to my nonplussed looking date. “Rebekah, Melanie.”
The two women stared at each other for a moment. Rebekah broke the silence first with a strained but polite “Hello,” but Melanie ignored her and turned back to me, flirting and touching me as if it were yesterday as she started reminiscing. Trouble was, we were ancient history. Like super ancient. She was a part of my most painful memories, and I had no desire to be near any of that again.
I cleared my throat, cutting her off as I put my hand to the small of Rebekah’s back, sending a very clear message.
I felt Rebekah glance up at me, but I kept my eyes on Melanie. “Sorry, Melanie,” I said, tugging Rebekah close so she was pressed right up against my side. “But we’ve really gotta go. It was nice seeing you again.” I took Rebekah’s hand and interlaced our fingers, tugging her away. “Take care.”
Melanie gaped at our backs as I led Rebekah away and through the throng toward the bar.
“I need another drink,” I murmured, sliding up and ordering a shot of whiskey. “You?”
“Who was that?”
I peered over at her. “Old girlfriend.”
She stared at me for a long moment then turned to the bartender. “Make that two shots.”
We chugged back our whiskeys and I felt her stare. I finally faced her. “Ask.”
She shook her head. “It’s not my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But ask me anyway.”
Her eyes sparkled in the light of the bar as she took me in. “You and Melanie . . .?”
“Over. Way over.” I twirled my empty shot glass on the bar. “Way, way over.”
“Didn’t look like she thought so.”
“I haven’t seen her since high school.”
Rebekah frowned. “How long have you been gone?”
“Since graduation.”
She glanced down at our empty glasses then back up to me. “I’m sensing there’s a story here.”
“There is.”
“I’m also sensing you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Nope.”
“Is it a bad story?”
My gaze shot up to hers. She had no idea. Sure, we all had bad stories.
Hers was just as rough, being an orphan, left with a dying grandfather. But I’d been grappling with the shame of being a dirty Richardson from Biloxi my whole life, and I hadn’t quite been able to wash that stain away yet. Time, distance, even the Marines hadn’t cleaned the ugliness of my past.
Could these big, innocent blue eyes do the trick?
I’d never, ever let anyone in. Not really. I’d told Red and the team bits and pieces of my story, but never the whole truth. But, somehow, I wanted to tell her. Could I trust her? I hardly knew her, I’d yet to even be honest with her about why I was there, and yet I knew in my soul she wouldn’t betray me.
I dropped my head, ready to spill my guts, when a movement at the end of the bar caught my eye.
Black hair.
Black scorpion tattoo.
Black searing gaze that raked over Rebekah then slowly, cockily, met mine.
I recognized the son-of-a-bitch. This wasn’t the same guy from the casino, who must’ve been the cartel watchdog.
No.
They’d called in the big guns.
The sicario was here.
~ ~
“Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
I slapped down some money, grabbed her hand, and yanked her up. “We’ve gotta go.” When she didn’t move, I yanked harder. “Now.”
That seemed to spur her on and she stumbled after me as I sped her out of the casino in the opposite direction of the sicario.
“What’s going on?” she said, but I ignored her, walking faster, practically running, dragging her behind me.
“Tanner!” She yanked her hand from mine and froze in place in the middle of the walkway in the center of the casino. Right in the line of fire. “I’m not moving another inch until you tell me—”
I hauled her up over my shoulder and started running at a full sprint out the back door. I kept going, even as she screamed and pummeled my back with her fists. I didn’t stop until I rounded the building, opened the truck, tossed her inside, and peeled out of the parking lot.
I drew the pistol out of my waistband and pulled out my cell phone to dial the team, my eye in the rearview as headlights began to tail us about a hundred yards away. “Get down,” I commanded.