Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood)

by Rhenna Morgan

  The parting shot thwacked her upside the head and sent her scrambling for her calendar. “Their party’s not until May. I haven’t even scanned the details yet.”

  Axel paused in the doorway, his big paw wrapped around the doorjamb and an ornery smile spread wide. “No work, darlin’. Just pleasure.”

  * * *

  One short rap on his office door was the only warning Jace got before his brother Knox ambled in.

  “Man, I really need to reevaluate my involvement in the entertainment biz.” Unlike most of the men flocking the bar downstairs, Knox had stuck to his standard graphic tee, jeans and his go-to brown bomber boots. A nondescript manila folder about an inch thick dangled from one hand, and a drink was clutched in the other. “Swear to God, I just saw two women on the dance floor lip-locked and wearing dresses so tight they may as well be naked. Software and hacking’s not nearly this fun.”

  “Jackie and Matilda.” Jace might’ve been planted behind his desk and far away from the one-way wall of windows overlooking the dance floor, but there was no doubting which two women Knox referred to. They loved attention and weren’t afraid to cross the line in getting it.

  “You say that like the shit doesn’t get you hot.”

  “Any man with a functioning dick would think it’s hot—the first twenty times they saw it. Now it’s just a rerun.” Not to mention it had no heart. Now, Viv in the center of his bed, cheeks flushed, back arched and nipples hard for his mouth, that he’d take on a third world country to see. “You got the report?”

  Knox sank down into the scarred leather couch along the back wall and tossed his file on the granite-topped coffee table. “Not the most exciting name I’ve tracked.”

  Boring was good. Hell, it was a fucking relief. “What’s in it?”

  Kicking one foot up on the coffee table, Knox shook his tumbler enough that the ice swimming in the amber liquid jingled. “Grew up not too far from here. Tulsa. Comes from a low-income family. Dad bit it with a gunshot wound in a bar fight gone bad thirteen years ago. One sister, Callista Moore, who made it out of high school and made a few tries at junior college for health care, but got the boot for bad grades and poor attendance. Vivienne went to junior college too, but aced everything. Got an associates in Hospitality Management then started schlepping the corporate scene with a job here in Dallas.”

  “And the mom?”

  Knox rubbed his chin. “Best I can tell, Mom cut out and filed for divorce before your girl got out of high school. The split shows going final before Viv graduated. Mom’s sitting pretty now, though. Married a sugar daddy up in Nashville not three months after the ink on the divorce decree was dry. She’s been licking up the good life ever since.”

  Maybe not so boring of a history after all. Jace pushed away from his desk and meandered to the window overlooking the crowd below, sipping his Scotch. The turnout was better than normal for a Wednesday, businessmen with rolled-up shirtsleeves and women in their corporate skirts and tailored pants snatching some midweek relief in the form of booze and music. “Anything else?”

  “Squeaky clean. Pays her taxes like clockwork, and not so much as a parking ticket.”

  The abject fear on Viv’s face when she’d laid eyes on his gun flashed vivid in his memory. A reasonable response for someone who’d lost her dad to a bullet, but the rest still didn’t add up. How did a woman like Viv fit with a bar-brawling dad and a party-chasing sister? Unless she’d learned from Mom and was walking the uppity life in search of a well-heeled keeper.

  He took another drink. “How’d the bit at Nieman’s go?”

  Knox groaned and dropped his head back on the couch. “It went well enough that you’re setting a bad example for the rest of us. My secretary’s already spread the gossip far and wide how she got carte blanche with your credit card for the sole purpose of dollin’ up your new squeeze for some big shindig.”

  God, he wished he could’ve been there for that. Viv’s place might not be finished out with everything top of the line, but she had an eye for quality. Just the idea of spoiling her for a day and letting her have whatever she wanted made him feel about three feet taller. He knew better than to get near her yet, though. He had a point to make. One he wanted to drive home crystal clear. “As long as she kept the details under wraps with Viv, I don’t care if she sends out a global email.”

  “Didn’t drop a word. Just got her measurements, picked out the frills and paid for the tab. Your girl nearly drove Misty nuts with the questions though.” Knox drained his drink and thunked it on the coffee table like it was made of stone instead of crystal. “You need anything else? Or am I free to broaden my entertainment background?”

  Jace grinned, the wicked smirk reflecting back at him through the glass. “I’ll give you ten percent ownership in Crossroads if you can get between Jackie and Matilda before they head home for the night.”

  “I’ll take that bet.” Knox surged upright and stretched his neck as though bracing for a fight. “Too much macho biker and businessman bullshit down there. They need a man with a mind.”

  “Gonna wow ’em with your hacker skills?”

  “Hell, yeah. We always find a backdoor.” Knox waggled his eyebrows and shut the door behind him on the way out.

  The poor bastard didn’t have a chance. True, his hot nerd routine usually worked on most women, but Jackie and Mattie were man-haters to the core. If his brother did end up between them, he’d have earned every damned percentage.

  He turned back to the crowd below in time to catch Knox’s intended targets slide into a corner booth. Too bad he couldn’t figure Viv out as easy as he did those two women. The bit about her mother rubbed him the wrong way, his real-world experience warning Viv could be a junior gold digger in the works.

  His gut said otherwise. Something had to have happened. Something that put a stopper on all that passion she kept bottled up and made her tuck certain parts of herself in a self-imposed prison.

  Soon enough, he’d find out. Friday night was just around the corner.

  Chapter 15

  Twelve years past high school and Vivienne was finally going to the prom. She smoothed her hand over one scarlet, velvet-covered hip, luxuriating in the slick-soft feel against her palm. The body-hugging gown accentuated her curves, and the halter bodice with its plunging cowl neckline screamed sensuality without coming off cheap. A perfect selection for a grown-up fairy-tale evening.

  Okay, so maybe tonight wasn’t the same as prom night. In truth, she still had no idea where she and Jace were headed, but considering she’d wanted an occasion to dress up like this since her junior year, it was close enough. It would’ve been nice if Misty had slipped up at least once during their shopping trip, but the woman had stayed frustratingly tight-lipped, playing the giddy, high-drama secretive operative all too well. Viv’s only clue the night would lean toward something formal were the strappy matching heels she’d tried on, but this was even more formal than she’d imagined.

  On the bathroom countertop, Jace’s note lay inside the tissue-lined box, his message scrawled in bold, confident strokes in the center. Wear your hair up. I dare you.

  The sneaky bastard. The front of her gown might be classically elegant, but the back was pure daredevil. Every inch from her neck to the softly draped fabric just above her ass was exposed. If she wore it up, she’d have no way to cover herself, save the nearly sheer wrap he’d included. If she wore it down, she’d feel less exposed, but he’d get her hair loose and wild the way he always claimed to want it. Either way, he couldn’t lose.

  I dare you.

  She snatched the box of bobby pins from her hair drawer and gathered the wild mass at the back. She’d take that dare, if for nothing else, than to tease and torment him the way he always tempted her.

  The last pin in place, she stepped back and studied the final product. She’d started to try a heavier hand with he
r makeup, but somehow it always looked cheap on her, so she went with her usual approach. Even with a light hand on the blush, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled from the excitement prickling through her veins.

  What are you doing, Viv?

  I’m living. It’s one more date with a man who’s shown me nothing but decency.

  Decent to you maybe, but what’s he up to when you’re not around?

  “Stop it,” she said to herself in the mirror, a little of her enthusiasm ebbing beneath the internal debate that kept popping up at the worst damned times. She’d listened to that shrewish, pessimistic voice the night they’d picked up Callie and treated Jace abysmally as a result. Until he gave her concrete evidence to go on, he deserved at least the benefit of the doubt. Maybe even an apology for the cold treatment she’d given him, assuming she could gather the courage to give one.

  Three sharp knocks clattered up from the front door, and Ruger peeled out of her room and bounded down the stairs, his claws clickity-clacking along the way.

  Viv trailed more slowly behind him, her stomach spinning in a mix of emotions she didn’t dare give too much focus.

  Ruger waited for her at the door, his whole body wagging in lieu of his snipped tail and his tongue hanging out, ready for a thorough greeting.

  Traitor dog. Though she kind of understood his enthusiasm. She might be slow to admit it, but something inside her trusted Jace instinctively, despite his gruff outward appearance. Not to mention the impact he had on her libido.

  She opened the door and her breath caught in her throat. Common courtesy banged on the locked-up processor in her head, ordering her to step back and let him in, but somehow the command short-circuited on the way to her feet.

  His hands were anchored in his pockets, the crisp, clean lines of his tuxedo accenting his powerful frame. She’d seen him with his hair pulled back in a ponytail a few times, but this time it looked different. More polished and GQ than disheveled. Mixed with his tidied-up goatee, he’d give any male model a run for his money.

  “Hi.” A lame attempt at a sophisticated greeting, but at least she’d managed something. So what if it was only one syllable?

  He stalked toward her, those dark, sinful eyes of his trailing up and down her body in a slow, sensual glide.

  Her feet finally got on board and made a tiny retreat, though not nearly enough to make up for the distance he’d gained.

  Nudging the door shut behind him, he grinned and grazed his thumb down the line of her neck. “You took the dare.”

  One touch and all the thoughts and plans she’d had for apologies and meaningful conversation disintegrated, her mind as empty as a well shaken Etch A Sketch. Tangible contact was the only thing that counted. The only thing that mattered.

  “Turn around.”

  Such a simple request, but it slithered through her as potent as an erotic command, a lick of compulsion that pooled low in her belly. She turned, keeping him in her sight over one shoulder.

  He cupped her shoulders, and the heat from his palms soothed away her tension. His lips pressed at the curve where her neck and shoulders met, and his warm breath fluttered across the fine hairs at her nape. “I’ll take it down later.”

  A glimmer of wit surged free of her dumbfounded thrall and the retort she’d used on their last date leaped to her tongue. “What if I don’t want it loose?”

  His lips curved against her skin. “Then I’ll make it my mission to persuade you.”

  “You said that last time.”

  “Did it work?”

  A shiver snaked down her spine and his hands tightened on her shoulders, telling her he hadn’t missed it. “I’m beginning to think you could charm panties from a nun.”

  His low chuckle vibrated through her and his warm knuckles trailed slow and sensuous down her spine. “Why have a nun’s panties when I could have yours?” His fingers splayed at the small of her back and dipped beneath the soft fabric, skimming low enough to tease the bare flesh underneath. “Although, it feels like they’re already missing tonight.”

  “You knew damned well I’d never manage anything under this dress without it showing.”

  “So I’m charming and smart?”

  “Charming and devious.”

  He gripped her hip, a possessive edge to the clasp that made her suck in a quick breath. His beard tickled the shell of her ear and his voice rolled through her in a slow, mesmerizing wave. “I’ll show you devious when I get you out of this dress and my tongue on your pussy.”

  Oh. My. God.

  A pulse she might as well have called a mini orgasm rippled through her core, and her heart punched from languid to frantic. What was she doing? They hadn’t even made it out of the house and she was entertaining the one act guaranteed to push their relationship from safe to highly unprofessional. And they were in her freaking entryway. The absurdity of it shook a tiny laugh out of her.

  He eased her around, the heat in his gaze still bright, but curiosity burning alongside it. “Something funny?”

  Tapping her temple, she stepped back and thanked the universe for the break in tension. “My hamsters. They’re busy tonight.”

  He cocked his head and gave her a lopsided grin. “Can’t have that. Get your wrap, and we’ll see what we can do to shut them up for the night.”

  A quick snack for Ruger and a last-minute check of her makeup, and Jace guided her over the threshold with his hand at the small of her back. She halted two steps out. Parked in Jace’s usual spot was a gleaming black 911. “Where’s the truck?”

  “At Haven.” He opened the door and held out his hand, palm up. “Didn’t figure you’d appreciate climbing in the truck with that dress, and the Porsche is a hell of a lot more fun to drive.”

  If he had any idea how tricky it was navigating into the equivalent of a cockpit in a tight-fitting dress, he might have chosen otherwise, but she was awfully glad he didn’t. Black leather surrounded her, broken only by the sleek silver accents and the soft white backlight of the gauges.

  Despite his size, Jace slid into his seat with the ease of a man well accustomed to such luxury.

  The engine roared to life and Viv buckled up. “What’s Haven?”

  “Exactly what it sounds like.”

  “Another club?”

  Jace gripped the stick shift, his eyes thoughtful as he stared out the front windshield. “It’s family.” With that, he put the gear in first and steered them out of the complex.

  Emotion resonated thick through the car’s interior. The depth layered within his simple response rattled pieces of herself she’d thought safely tucked away. The closest she’d ever come to such powerful feelings where family was concerned was in keeping Callie safe, saving her from the perilous lifestyle that had already robbed them both of too much. But Jace uttered it with reverence. “Do you have a big family?”

  “By my definition of family? Yes.”

  “How do you define it?”

  He glanced at her, no more than a second with his eyes off the road, but enough to expose his uncertainty. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he pursed his mouth as though missing his ever-present toothpick. “I have one living relative who shares my blood—my mother. But I have five brothers I’d give my life for in a heartbeat. They’re my family.”

  “They’re adopted?”

  Headlights from the car behind them spotlighted his quick smile. “Not in the normal sense, no. There’s the family you’re given by birth, and there’s the family you choose for yourself. My brothers are family by choice.”

  “Axel.” The connections flared quick and sure in her head. “Zeke and Trevor. Who else?”

  “Beckett and Knox.”

  “What about Danny?” He’d helped Vivienne on New Year’s Eve and had been at the party last Saturday, though nowhere near as close as the others.

 
Jace’s lips twitched as he guided the car to the exit ramp. “Not yet. We’ll see.”

  Downtown Dallas’s tall buildings and bright lights surrounded them, everything from modern architecture with space-age silver siding to painted murals on concrete walls whizzing past as Jace navigated the intricately laid out streets. “Am I allowed to ask where we’re headed?”

  “A fundraiser in the Dallas Arts District. A charity I work with for troubled male teens.”

  “You work with a charity?”

  His smile slipped and a cold, emotionless mask dropped into place. All the warmth and easy rapport they’d built in their quiet moments alone turned brittle.

  Shit. And here she’d been learning so much about him, finally prying beneath the surface. She rubbed her hand along her velvet-clad leg, the need to fidget in the tiny space so strong she nearly choked on it. “I didn’t mean that the way—”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He smiled at her, but it lacked his usual fondness and said in big bold letters he’d had enough heart-to-heart.

  To hell with that. Jace wasn’t the only person who could get what he wanted. “Tell me something else.”

  “I think you’ve already got a clear picture in your head.”

  “I’ve got an outline. I want you to color it in for me.”

  The light ahead of them turned red.

  He twisted enough to pin her with a throat-choking stare, a combination of danger and dare burning in his gaze. “What do you want to know?”

  Everything. To get behind the bearish exterior and find out what made him tick. Not that his glare indicated he’d buy it if she told him so. “Something besides what you show everyone else.”

  Quiet pressed heavy all around them, even the engine’s purr disappearing in the moment. “Most people see what they want no matter what you show them.”

  “And sometimes we judge how people will react before we give them a chance. Show me. Color in the outline.”