Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  Scrolling a little further down the history list, the subject matter shifted to everyday mundane sites. Target, Amazon, Yahoo, Google and—

  Whoa. Now that was a good site. Jace clicked on the link and eased back in the desk chair, petting the top of Ruger’s head. “Our girl’s gotta kinky side, eh, Ruger?”

  The dog nuzzled his pocket and Jace handed over another treat.

  God damn it, he was insane to be chasing a woman who didn’t seem to want anything to do with him, but everything in him screamed to make something between them happen. He’d have better luck making a compass point south than walk away at this point.

  Sexy, kinky, smart, and mysterious to boot.

  Yeah, one way or another, he was going to find a way into Vivienne Moore’s world, even if he had to bribe her to do it.

  Chapter 7

  Vivienne tossed her latest paperback to the side of the bed and curled up on her side, staring out the open window. The gauzy fabric stretched across the ceiling fluttered in the breeze, and the crisp bite of winter filled the room with a clean, fresh scent. She tucked her toes under Ruger, sprawled at the foot of the bed.

  Normally days like today, spent quietly in her room with a book, would level the worst stress life could throw her, but today nothing seemed to work. Not her favorite room, not her comfortable clothes, and most assuredly not her romance novels. Every time the author tried to paint an image of the hero, Viv kept superimposing Jace in his place, which only circled her back around to the issue at hand—take Jace’s offer and buy herself some time, or tuck tail back to corporate America.

  The refi wasn’t really an option. Now that she’d seen the numbers in black and white, there was no way she could sign. Not only would she have zero equity left in her home with no guarantee her business would make it, but the rise in interest rates since she’d bought the place meant hardly any change in monthly payment. Other people might be able to swing such a huge risk, but Viv wasn’t a fly-without-a-net kind of girl.

  The strands of minilights in the corner clicked together on a sharper gust, and her makeshift swinging nightstand swayed beside the bed. The idea was one she’d copied off the internet. A simple eighteen-by-eighteen slab of honey-stained wood hung from rattan rope on each corner. Although, on windy days like this, using it to hold her hot chocolate probably wasn’t her smartest move.

  She sat up, grabbed her mug and put the novel in its place. No matter how bad she might want to ignore her decisions, it was time to up or duck on Jace’s offer. Savoring her extra-sweet and semi-cooled drink, she padded closer to the window and leaned against the frame.

  The view on this side of the street would have been a downer for most, but something about the old cemetery across the street gave her peace. The tall wrought iron fence with its fleur-de-lis post tops and the giant tombstones it protected seemed to anchor the rapidly changing area. A defiant nod to calmer times while everything around it jetted toward new-and-improved.

  Which camp did she fall into? Her mother had harped on anyone in their family who would listen about the value of striving for more. Better income, better clothes, better people. There was always another rung to climb and something old to shake off. But here she was, being offered the chance for more from the very lifestyle she tried to distance herself from.

  Surely she could manage the event and keep Jace at arm’s length. It was a measly three months with a very non-measly and steady income. Three months would fly by in no time, and she probably wouldn’t even see the guy very much.

  I tend to be a hands-on man.

  Okay, maybe that last part was a long shot. Knowing how he’d acted so far, he’d likely check every fact and figure before he let her run with anything.

  The memory of his kiss at Crossroads flared as bold as the sunshine outside, and her lips tingled. Lord, but that man could kiss. And he did it just like he did everything else, brazen and commanding, leveling any objections or obstacles before her mind even had a chance to fire.

  Yeah, fighting that kind of temptation would be next to impossible. Although, he had enough negatives in his pros-and-cons chart to arm herself. The bad press, the arrests, the cops, and especially Hugo Moreno. Everything she’d read about the drug dealer was bad news, and he always seemed to sidestep authorities.

  But if she pulled off the event and helped drag Crossroads out of its PR nightmare, it would be a serious coup. At this point, what did she have to lose?

  She pushed away from the wall and patted her leg for Ruger to follow. She’d make the call to Jace, let him know she was in, and throw the rest to fate. Either she’d fight her way to success or go down in a blaze of glory.

  Two steps toward her office, sharp knocks sounded on her front door.

  Ruger peeled out and barreled down the stairs, his lean behind waggling like crazy.

  It had to be neighborhood kids selling something. Somehow word must’ve gotten out she was a sucker for kids with fundraisers, because they were the only people who came to the front door.

  Ruger was quite the fan of their tiny visitors, too. He ate up the kids’ attention while she forked over money for stuff she didn’t need.

  “Just a second!” She snatched her purse off the side table in the hall and nudged Ruger out of the way. Swinging the door wide, she pasted on a happy smile, and got an eyeful of hot damn and dirty dressed in a tight-fitting T-shirt and faded jeans. “Jace.” She shook her head and gripped the edge of the door for dear life. “I mean, Mr. Kennedy.”

  Jace offered his hand to Ruger who unabashedly cozied up for a whole lot of love. Guess she wasn’t the only one who got off on the guy’s presence.

  She snapped her fingers. “Ruger, sitzen.”

  The traitorous little fart obeyed, but not without a pitiful look over his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Normally he’s a lot more hesitant with new people.” Well, more like a lot less friendly, as in bite first and ask questions later. So it was kind of weird he’d be so great with Jace.

  “Maybe he’s a good judge of character.” Jace zeroed in on her purse then motioned toward the ground. “If you’re headed somewhere, you might want to put on shoes first.”

  Ugh. She’d completely forgotten how she was dressed. Jeans and tanks were something she saved for home, and almost never went out in public with her hair loose. She tucked the purse under her arm and tried to smooth her wild curls away from her face. “I thought you were one of the neighborhood kids. I’m a sucker for a hardworking kid with a cute smile.”

  Jace perused her head to toe, slow and blatant. “A different look for you.” He pinned her with a stare so heated it sizzled straight between her legs. “Looks good.”

  So much for easily distancing herself with everything wrong about the man. Right now she couldn’t remember her middle name, let alone her pros and cons list. The government should bottle up the mojo he generated and use it as a scrambling mechanism, because it sure did a number on her common sense.

  He braced his forearm on the door frame and leaned for a look into the hallway behind her. “You busy?”

  Ah, damn. Unprofessional clothes and rude. The right thing would be to let him in and accept his offer like she’d planned, but a part of her didn’t want him to see the place. He’d fit no better than a wild panther in a sterile office space and would be even less impressed.

  Stepping back, she waved him in. “I was just about to call you, actually.”

  “That so?” Jace ambled passed her, his confident gait intimating he’d made his way through more than a few women’s homes.

  She hurried around him and angled for the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “You have Scotch?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of a Coke or water. Wine is the only alcohol I keep in the house.”

  He paused in front of the canvas print she’
d ordered off a discount online site and studied it. She still didn’t care for the thing, but it worked well with the room. “I’ll bring you a bottle you can keep on hand. For now, I’ll pass.”

  “I doubt our working together would require you having a favorite liquor on hand at my home.”

  “So you’ve decided to take the job?”

  Five minutes ago she had, but the second she’d opened the door, her libido had derailed all communications with her brain. She pressed her tumbler to the fridge’s ice dispenser and corralled her common sense while the chunky cubes clattered into the glass. “I have, but I don’t bring clients to my home.” She paused midway through filling the glass with water. “How did you know where I lived?”

  “Danny. Remember?” He faced her and looped his thumbs on the edges of his front pockets. “Is alcohol a problem for you, too? Or is it just your sister drinking until she can’t see straight that makes you not keep it in your house?”

  “I don’t think that topic’s relevant to our business together.”

  “It is if a substance gives you trouble and I’m the one putting you in close proximity to it. You might be the person who decides whether or not to tip one back, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be aware of the issue and have a sensitivity to it.”

  Well, that was fair. And surprisingly refreshing. “You don’t need to worry about me acting like Callie. I don’t keep it in the house anymore because Callie thinks it’s her mission to drink it.”

  “Figured as much.” He sauntered toward the kitchen.

  Viv shifted and stood so the kitchen island worked as a barrier between them. “Since we’ve got a limited amount of time to get things situated for the event, I’ll start working out details first thing in the morning. Do I coordinate with you directly? Or will there be someone else I should work with?”

  She hoped the latter, unless prolonged exposure somehow helped her develop a resistance.

  He smirked at the abrupt change in topic and leaned into the countertop, arms crossed on the granite. “Have dinner with me.”

  What? She could barely keep an intelligent conversation with the guy in person, let alone navigate food safely between a plate and her mouth. Knowing her luck, she’d end up with stains on her clothes and lettuce stuck between her teeth. “I told you, business and pleasure don’t mix. And even if I were willing to cross that line, I don’t think the two of us would suit very well.”

  Liar.

  He pushed away from the counter and prowled around it, coming up behind her. “We suited just fine three nights ago.”

  The low, delicious rumble of his voice tickled the nerve endings down her neck and spine. When his hands settled on her hips, a shudder too strong to hide rippled through her. “Still not good to mix pleasure with business.” Nice words, but her tone was a cross between desperation and surrender.

  Sweeping her hair from one side of her neck, Jace skimmed his lips along the sweet spot behind her ear. His warm breath fluttered against her skin, and the muscles at her core contracted. “No business to mix yet. All pleasure.”

  Oh, God. Never in her life had she wanted to let go with a man so badly. To lean into his strength and tuck reason and responsibility in some dark, impenetrable cell. Just to be and enjoy without worry for a little while.

  She should move. Gain some distance and get them back on track. On business and planning. She shifted her weight to step away.

  Jace’s fingers tightened on her hips. “I’m also rethinking my offer.”

  Freezing water dumped over her head couldn’t have straightened her spine any faster. She spun and faced him despite the limited room to move. “So, if I won’t go out with you, you’re retracting the job?”

  “Not at all. Just changing the arrangement up a bit.” He studied her for slow, unsettling seconds, resting on her lips for several heartbeats before he stepped back.

  The second he was out of touching distance, her trance dissipated and she sucked in a lungful of air. A part of her wondered if he’d realized how fuddled her mind was and had given her the space on purpose.

  “I met with Axel yesterday, along with a few of my other associates. We’ve got a full slate of marketing projects with event aspects that could use a woman like you handling the details.” He strolled into the adjoining living room, resuming his perusal of her belongings with a crooked smile. “Between what we have and the connections you’ll make along the way, I estimate your calendar for this year and part of the next will fill up pretty quickly.”

  He paused at the foot of the stairs, looked up to the second floor, and grinned like he’d just learned a naughty secret.

  Shit. She’d left the door to her safe room open. Surely he couldn’t see very much from there. “So you’re offering additional work?”

  The question drew his attention back on her and away from her secret place. “I am.”

  Twelve to eighteen months of solid work. With that kind of exposure and steady paychecks, she could not only rebuild the savings she’d blown staying afloat, but hopefully build some momentum. Assuming she could figure out what was causing her to lose referral business. “Then you’ll understand our keeping a professional relationship is more important than ever.”

  He meandered toward her, stopping close enough her nerve endings perked up for a second Hallelujah chorus. “That’s the biggest part I’m rethinking.” He cupped the side of her neck, his fingers tangled in her hair. “I think you’re a smart woman. One who wants more from life than punching in and out at eight and five. I appreciate that and want to help.” He pulled her closer. “In exchange, I want two dates.”

  She planted a hand on his chest to keep her balance and angled for better eye contact. “Two dates?”

  The devil couldn’t have a more wicked smile. Between his pretty white teeth, full lips and dark beard, he could talk just about any woman out of her panties in under five seconds. “Two dates. The time and place of my choosing.”

  “Why?”

  He loosened his grip on her neck enough to trace her lower lip with his thumb.

  Her lips parted on instinct, and it was all she could do to keep her tongue from darting out for a taste.

  “Why’s not important. Just your agreement.”

  Was he kidding? He’d offered her a crazy chance to keep her dream alive and had every nerve ending pegged out at max wattage. Right now, she’d agree to robbery and might consider murder.

  He leaned in, his lips so close hers tingled in response. “But know this, I expect your involvement. You will fully participate and not act like some cardboard cutout. You enjoy and have fun.”

  Warnings borne from years of self-preservation blasted fog-horn loud through her head, and she shoved free on instinct. “You mean have sex.”

  Jace let her go and laughed, the sound so full and rich it echoed off the vaulted ceilings. “Sugar, I don’t need to buy sex. Especially from a curvy little event planner who wears Levi’s like they’re custom-made for her delectable ass.”

  Well, didn’t that make her feel like a knee-jerking idiot. “How else was I supposed to take, ‘fully participate’?”

  His laughter slowly eased, but his smile stayed locked in place. “Maybe I’ve a mind to show you business and pleasure can happily coexist.” He tucked his hands in his front pockets, his hip anchored at a cocky angle. “Nothing’s gonna happen on those two dates that you don’t want. It’s about letting go and having fun. That’s it. Not much to ask for in exchange for you being able to grab your dream by the balls, now is it?”

  The memory of a tropical vacation ad she’d seen years ago popped into her head. A woman stood at the top of a tall cliff and slowly leaned forward for the most beautiful swan dive toward the turquoise waters below. In this moment, the woman was her. Faced with an opportunity to let go and fall into the arms of something both terrifying and wonderful.

>   Two dates. Or, as Jace put it, two dates of letting go and having fun. Just enjoying without worry or responsibility. And after, she could put her tightly ordered life back in its neat little place. “You’ll respect my limits?”

  “Assuming you can put words around those limits, sure.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means if you can clearly verbalize what’s bothering you, or what you don’t want, I’ll respect every boundary you give. But if you’re not sure, I’m going to push you to explore.”

  God, how nice would it be to let go just once? Her head bobbed an agreement before her conscience even figured out the internal debate was over. “Two dates.”

  Jace’s brown eyes darkened to almost black and his smile slipped. In seconds, he’d shifted from playful devil to a hungry panther with an open cage door. He closed the distance between them and pulled her close. His lips barely brushed hers and his voice growled low and deep. “Good choice.”

  With that, he backed away and ambled for the entrance. “Saturday at noon.” He opened the door, looked her up and down, and grinned. “And, for God’s sake—wear those jeans again.”

  He winked and shut the door behind him, leaving her rooted to the same spot with her mind too scrambled for basic thought.

  A year or more of steady work, and two dates with a man who made her wet with a look and kissed like the devil. What the hell had she just agreed to?

  Chapter 8

  A Friday night in a bar with more waitstaff than customers was never good. How his newest investor could label the place trendy was beyond Jace’s comprehension. It had about as much personality as Viv’s living room, and they’d tried to pass some kind of cheap Scotch off on him when he’d ordered Macallan. If that was the kind of service customers got, he could understand the empty seats.