by Jill Shalvis
He chased her mouth with his but she pressed on his chest until he opened his eyes and met hers.
“You’ve got to go,” she whispered.
“Right.” He pulled in a slow, unsteady breath before letting it out in a way that sounded suspiciously like a sigh as he rested his forehead on hers. “One of these days you’ll have to explain to me how it is that you suddenly have all the power in this relationship.”
She smiled and he shook his head at the both of them. “You’re going to be okay,” he said.
“I know,” she said.
His smile faded as he watched her, rubbing his thumb along her jaw. He brushed a light kiss to her bottom lip and then lingered, kissing her again as if maybe he couldn’t help himself. “Later,” he murmured.
She nodded dumbly before realizing he’d vanished, locking the door behind him.
It was only then that she also realized he’d taken the latest picture and envelope with him.
Chapter 14
#MayTheForceBeWithYou
“And that’s when Vinnie finally fetched something,” Kylie said, regaling her friends with the story of the previous night’s activities.
“He did?” Haley asked, thrilled. “Oh, what a good boy he is. I knew he could do it.”
Elle, eyes narrowed on Kylie’s face, shook her head. “Nope. That’s not the whole story. What did he fetch? A pair of your socks?”
“Um,” Kylie said.
“Panties!” Elle guessed and everyone laughed.
Kylie dropped her head. “Worse.”
They were at the coffee shop, in line for their various choices of caffeine. Tina owned and ran the shop, a tall, dark-haired, dark-skinned stunning woman who had a love of everything big—big hair, big earrings, big shoes.
Kylie admired her commitment to fashion as her own style could best be described as “doing everything possible to avoid underwire.”
Thankfully, Tina also loved baking muffins. Back when Tina had been Tim, there’d been no muffins at the coffee shop. Just coffee. But Tina was happier than Tim had ever been and that translated to the most amazing muffins on the planet.
“Could be worse,” Tina said. “He could’ve fetched your vibrator.”
Kylie moaned miserably and everyone burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” Haley said. “He did that really? He fetched your vibrator? You’re my new hero!”
Kylie’s face was flaming.
“Hey,” Tina said, “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re a woman with needs and now he knows you know how to meet those needs. Which means he also knows that you don’t need no man. It puts more pressure on him to perform well or be replaced.” She grinned. “Trust me, for a man, that’s always a good thing.”
“Don’t worry honey,” someone said from behind her in line. Eighty-something Mrs. Winslow, who lived on the third floor of the building. The older woman smiled knowingly. “He’ll appreciate your toys. But remember, it’s all fun and games until someone loses the key to the handcuffs.”
Tina reached over the counter to high-five Mrs. Winslow.
Pru, another of their gang, entered the shop wearing a workout tank and capris. “I hate it when I’m on the treadmill and accidentally hit the stop button and come to buy a muffin,” she said.
“You’re not supposed to work out on a full stomach,” Elle told her.
“Right. So I can’t work out. Ever.” Pru smiled, suddenly a little nervously. “Or . . . for at least the next nine months.”
Everyone gasped and jumped up and started talking at once.
Elle held up her hands for them all to shut up and looked at Pru. “You’re pregnant?”
“Turned the stick blue,” Pru said and blew out a breath. “I’m only slightly terrified.”
They all hugged and squeezed and fussed until Pru stopped them. “Okay, okay, you love me, I love you, yada yada. We’re in public making a scene and I’m not going to be that pregnant chick who makes it all about her.”
“How’s Finn taking it?” Elle asked.
Finn was half owner of the pub and Pru’s husband. She grinned dreamily. “He’s so happy.”
“Good,” Elle said. “But man, I’m glad it’s you. Out of all of us, you’re the one who could handle the whole getting fat, having to stay up all night singing lullabies, and other stuff like not drinking for nine months—What?” she said to Kylie, who was miming that she should zip it because Pru had gone pale.
“Oh my God,” Pru whispered. “I’m going to get fat.”
“No,” Elle said, looking unaccustomedly panicked and clearly trying to backtrack. “Well, maybe only a little. And hey, it’ll be for a great cause, right?”
“Right,” Pru said. “Except I’ll have to stay up all night singing lullabies. And I don’t know any!”
“We’ll buy a book,” Elle said. “And get a gym membership. It’s going to be okay.”
Pru had a death grip on Elle’s hand. “You promise?”
“We all promise,” Kylie said even though she hated going to a gym, and they all hugged again.
Willa came running in next, apologizing to everyone in line as she bypassed them to catch up with her group. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Sorry . . . I’m not buying anything, I promise.”
“Pru’s pregnant,” Elle told her.
Willa gasped and grinned. “I knew it!”
“You did?” Pru asked. “How?”
“Cuz after we ate that plate of wings last night, you had to unzip your jeans.” Willa gave Pru a hug and her purse made a funny noise.
It was filled with three black Lab puppies.
Everyone peered in and let out a collective “Awwwwww.”
“I know, right?” Willa asked. “I’m babysitting. When I die, I want to come back as a black Lab pup.”
“I’d come back as a German shepherd,” Tina said.
“Tough, impenetrable, and loyal to a fault,” Haley said and nodded. “Suits you.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Tina smiled. “I think you’d make a great St. Bernard.”
“Hey,” Haley said, but then sighed. “But seeing as I accidentally punched myself in the face while trying to pull my blanket up this morning, I get it.”
“No, it’s because you’re sweet, kind, loving, warm,” Tina said.
“Oh.” Haley smiled. “That works too.”
“I think Elle would be a Doberman,” Willa said. “Tough, badass, smart as hell.”
“I can live with that.” Elle looked at Willa. “You’d be a pit bull. All bark, some bite, but fiercely protective of those you love.”
And then everyone turned to Kylie. They all looked at her for the longest time while she waited impatiently. “Well?” she finally demanded.
“A cat,” they said in unison.
“Great,” she said, tossing up her hands. “I’m picky, independent, and bitchy.”
“No, you’re loving, curious, playful, goofy, and adventurous,” Elle said.
Okay, she supposed she could live with that.
“Muffins to go with the coffee, ladies?” Tina asked.
“We shouldn’t,” Elle said, the strong one.
Sadie walked by and shook her head. “The more you weigh, the harder you are to kidnap,” she said. “Stay safe. Eat muffins. Plural.”
So they ate muffins. Plural.
Later that day, Kylie was surprised when her mom stopped by the shop with takeout for lunch. “What’s wrong?” Kylie asked, removing her apron and trying to dust off.
“Does something have to be wrong?” Her mom was in a sundress and a denim jacket open to reveal her ample, store-bought cleavage, paired with high-heeled sandals. Her hair added a good five inches to her height. As always, she was camera ready, looking thirty-five instead of nearly fifty. But today her eyes were sad.
“No,” Kylie said on a sigh. “Of course not. It just usually is when we actually get together, that’s all.”
“Maybe a daughter should try harder to see her mama.”
r /> Kylie took her mom’s hand. “Maybe she should. Tell me what’s up.”
“Nothing, honestly. I just wanted to see my baby for lunch, is all. Vinnie, darling, come over here and love me since my daughter won’t.”
Vinnie raced over there, butt wriggling, eyes warm and happy to see anyone who wanted to see him. Her mom scooped him up and loved up on him, her mouth curved in a glossy pout.
Kylie sighed. “Well, I’m not going to compete by licking your face or wriggling my ass in happiness,” she warned.
“How about just a hug then?”
“I’m dirty,” Kylie warned.
“I can wash up.”
So they hugged hello, her mom smelling really great of some fancy perfume, Kylie all too well aware that she smelled like wood chips and probably lacquer.
They sat in the courtyard with Vinnie at their feet, eating the deli sandwiches and chips her mom had brought. When they were finished, Kylie looked at her.
“What?” her mom said.
“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Kylie said. “For the real reason you’re here today.”
“Maybe I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Mom.”
They smiled at each other and Kylie realized she had missed her mom. “It’s nice to see you.”
“It’s been a few months,” her mom said. “We tend to like each other better with a few months’ distance between visits.”
Kylie opened her mouth to deny that, but it was true and her mom laughed at the look on her face. “I’m right.”
“Maybe,” Kylie admitted.
“But I’m happy to hear you missed me.”
“I did. But I’m sensing there’s more to this lunch than I-miss-yous.”
Her mom sighed. “I’m just in a little bind right now, that’s all.”
“What kind of a bind?”
“I’m in between bartending gigs, but I’ve got some irons in the fire. It’s just that I could use a little help with my rent this month until they pan out. I’ll pay you back with my next paycheck, I promise.” She paused and sighed. “It’s that or I’m moving in with you.”
The horror of that thought had Kylie seriously considering the loan. Mentally calculating the balance in her bank account, she figured that even though she couldn’t afford it, it was the only way to ensure neither of them killed the other. “I’ll help you.”
“Thanks, honey.” Her mom lifted her soda in a toast. “To us never having to be roommates.”
Kylie toasted her iced tea to that.
Chapter 15
#GonnaNeedABiggerBoat
Two days later, Joe woke up after a night of shitty sleep. The cause could be attributed to a lot of reasons, but the biggest probability was a light-brown-eyed vixen he couldn’t get out of his head.
The night before, he and Kylie had eliminated another apprentice. He’d tried to go alone, but true to form, she’d insisted on going with him. She’d also insisted on once again disguising herself, a black wig this time, short and straight, with moody emo makeup that made it hard to concentrate, but she hadn’t wanted to jeopardize his efforts if it came down to them needing her to be unrecognizable.
It’d have been a lot easier if she’d just agreed to stay in the truck.
Or better yet, at home.
But Kylie wasn’t much of a pacifist. Not in this and not in life, as he’d learned by just watching her go at everything that was thrown at her with all she had. If he hadn’t already learned it by watching her at work or with her friends, he’d have learned it by kissing her.
Kylie gave everything her all, especially passion.
It made him want her in his bed. And as explosive as he knew they’d be together, it wasn’t all sexual. He’d known almost since that first kiss that she was someone worth going after. He’d been doing his damnedest to keep his emotions out of it, but he’d failed.
Spectacularly.
At this point, he was starting to realize that he was incapable of denying himself her. Or resisting her, proven by how she was the only one who could shake his legendary control. He was getting tired of fighting it.
But at the moment he had a job to do and nothing came before a job, which he said to anyone who asked how things were going. And people asked. Archer. Lucas. Molly. Everyone asked.
They were curious as hell about his feelings for Kylie. “It’s business,” he kept saying until he was blue in the face.
A lie, as nothing regarding his feelings for her was businesslike. This wasn’t good, as he’d promised himself she was only a distraction, an amusing, fun, sexy distraction, but nothing more. But even if that had been true, he couldn’t go there with her. She wasn’t exactly the type to hook up with him for one night and release some of this undeniable tension. And even if she was, they wouldn’t act on it because things would eventually go bad—they always did—and that meant Archer would kill him. Assuming, of course, that Elle didn’t get to him first.
Besides, he was busy cleaning up the streets of asshats and hopefully also cleaning up his karma while he was at it. He didn’t have time for this.
He finally fell asleep just before dawn and then overslept. He hit the office at a run to find Molly in the staff room, making coffee. She handed him a mug along with a sympathetic look. “You’re late. Again.”
“I know,” he said, willing the caffeine to kick in fast and give him grown-up manners.
“You must like having your ass chewed out.”
“Yeah, I live for it,” he said dryly and then turned and found Archer standing there, arms crossed, expression dialed to pissed off.
“Should I be rethinking you as my number two guy?” he asked. “Because if you can’t program a fucking alarm, then we have problems.”
Joe resisted rolling his eyes. “Sorry. Bad night.”
Archer dropped his arms and his bad ‘tude. “Your dad?”
“No.”
Archer looked at Molly, who went palms up. “Not me,” she said. “I’m good.” She paused and then got a worried expression. “Is it Kylie?” she asked Joe. “Did she get another pic from that asswipe?”
“What asswipe?” Archer wanted to know. “And why don’t I know about said asswipe?”
“She wanted it kept quiet,” Molly said. “She had a family heirloom stolen. And now the guy who stole it is toying with her, sending her pictures of the thing in peril. Joe’s on the case for her.”
Shit. Joe sent his sister a thanks a lot glare because Archer hated it when his guys took side jobs without informing him.
“You need help?” Archer asked him.
Joe looked at him in surprise.
“It’s Kylie,” Archer said simply.
All of them cared deeply for Kylie. Well, maybe some of them more than others, Joe thought.
“She need anything from us?” Archer asked.
“I have some research to do, was going to do that after work here.”
“Do it now.” Archer turned to Molly. “Mark him as busy this morning and not to be interrupted.”
Joe nodded at him. “Thanks.”
“Help our girl. You know where to find me if you need anything.”
Which was how Joe found himself glued to the computer in his office for the next few hours. He had a lead on their next apprentice, who’d moved to Santa Cruz. Sixty-year-old Raymond Martinez had changed his name to Rafael Montega, maybe to attempt a mile of the bad debts left in his wake, including a bankruptcy disaster. Rafael wasn’t woodworking anymore. He’d recently begun managing a little art gallery.
Joe sent Kylie a text that he was driving up there after work. “And five, four, three, two . . .” he murmured, smiling grimly when his phone buzzed a return text.
I’m coming with.
Of course she was. He texted that he’d pick her up after six o’clock.
But then he and the guys got held up on a job. One of their clients’ cases had gotten moved up on the board as needing immediate attention. The client’s
very successful company had grossed close to fifty-five million dollars in the past year and was in the process of trying to sell itself to another entity.
Unfortunately their client discovered by accident that he was being embezzled. He’d been having lunch with a banker friend, who’d thanked him for opening a new business account at his bank and making such a large initial deposit.
The client freaked because he hadn’t opened any such account. He’d immediately reported the embezzlement to the police, who’d been slow to mobilize. That’s where Hunt Investigations had stepped in.
Yesterday, Archer had sent Joe and Lucas in to snoop around. They’d discovered the client’s receptionist was opening the mail and passing client checks to her partner-in-crime. This partner then filed a fictitious business statement, which enabled him to open a bank account in the client’s name and deposit the monies into his own account.
Joe had notified the bank and told them to let Hunt Investigations know when there was activity on the account. Almost immediately after, the suspect called the bank to ask why they’d not cleared a $55,000 check. Joe told the bank to tell the guy to come in and sign the check to get the funds. Joe and Lucas were parked outside the bank when the partner parked right next to them.
Unfortunately, somehow he smelled a rat, jumped back in his car, and took off, with Joe and Lucas in hot pursuit. Joe was driving and Lucas was on the phone with both law enforcement and Archer when the suspect started shooting at them.
Needless to say, the shooting ramped up police interest in a big way. They’d eventually caught up with the gun-toting rat and arrested him, but the incident had involved a lot of extra hours of reporting.