“Time to reward her with her favorite. Tell her to sit.”
Duchess, already scenting the bacon, popped up onto her haunches before Tucker could even issue the command. “Praise her and give her the treat, but don’t jerk your hand away. Doing that could startle her and her natural reaction would be to chase after the treat she already knows she’s getting.”
“Okay.” Tucker said, “Good girl,” and she held out the piece of bacon. She gripped it with the edges of her fingertips, wanting to put as much distance between her fingers and the dog’s mouth as possible. And, as always, Duchess was perfect.
Instead of snatching it from Tucker’s hand—not that she ever did—she daintily reached out for the end of the bacon and tugged until Tucker let go.
Turning Tucker back to him, he held her at arm’s length. “You do realize I’m taking Duchess with us to the bar today, right?”
All of the excitement fled, Tucker’s expression closing down. “No.”
His grip on her arms tightened. She could be so frustrating. “I understand your concerns, Tucker, but I need Duchess there if I’m going to accomplish anything. You did so great with her this morning. You know that she’s well behaved and won’t cause any problems in the bar. So what other arguments do you have against her coming?”
Her lips compressed into an unhappy line, Tucker glared at him.
“You know I’m right.”
With a grumble, she said, “Fine. But she needs to stay in the front, Finn. No going past the bar into the back. She needs to stay far away from the storeroom, office and kitchen.”
* * *
TUCKER HAD BEEN brooding since they got in Finn’s Jeep to head to the Rose. This was becoming a habit he could do without.
It was obvious she wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but that wasn’t going to change his stance. She could let it bother her all she wanted.
It was possible she simply didn’t like to lose an argument. And, really, he couldn’t blame her. He didn’t, either. But this one, there was no other choice. Duchess needed to be at the Rose.
Right now, since the bar was mostly empty, Duchess had staked out the most comfortable spot in the place—the padded area around the mechanical bull—and was catching a little nap. Considering she’d stood watch all night at Tucker’s place, she’d earned the rest.
From his perch on the stool at the end of the bar, Finn watched Tucker talk to Wyatt. And fought the urge to swat the guy’s hand away when he casually slung an arm around her shoulders, letting his fingers tangle in her hair.
It was obvious they were close. Finn’s male instinct said too close. But watching Tucker, it was apparent she didn’t respond to the other man the way she did to him.
Where as she was easy and fluid with Wyatt, every time she got within ten feet of Finn, emotional energy sparked between them. The difference was obvious, although that didn’t seem to matter to the predatory male instincts currently pounding through him.
Though he was smart enough to realize the issue was his own to deal with, and clamped down on the urge before doing something stupid.
“Nothing was taken?” Wyatt asked.
Shaking his head, Finn dialed back into their actual conversation.
“No, not that I could find.”
“Did you maybe interrupt the burglary? Scare them off?”
Pushing up from the stool, Finn sauntered closer. It helped allay some of his restlessness when Tucker shifted away from Wyatt and toward him. The other man’s arm dropped from her shoulder, easing his own tension even more.
“No. There was no one there.” Just the thought of what might’ve happened if he’d let Tucker go home alone like she’d wanted made him shiver. Needing the reassuring feel of her against him, Finn eased her into the shelter of his body, settling his arm across her waist. He was rewarded when she melted against him. Was she even aware she’d done it? Probably not. “Whoever broke in was long gone before we got home.” Thank God.
“Home?” Wyatt lifted a single eyebrow. “Making yourself pretty comfortable there, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never seen the value in hesitation. When I see something I want, I take action to get it.”
Tucker twisted, frowned up at him. Her irritated expression was rather endearing. “You make me sound like the first place ribbon at the county fair. I am not some trophy to win, Finn McAllister.”
Finn brushed his lips across her forehead. “You’re absolutely right,” he murmured. “You’re like a photograph of the most gorgeous landscape. The kind of art that evokes a riot of emotion. Something to be savored and admired.”
“Yeah, that’s not much better.”
He just flashed her a knowing grin.
Wyatt eyed him suspiciously. It was clear the other man didn’t quite trust him, which was just as well. It was good to know Tucker had people other than himself watching out for her.
“So, they were looking for something? Any idea what?”
Tucker opened her mouth. He had no doubt she was about to let her head of security in on the story of him finding the drugs and her working with him and the task force.
Which was exactly what Finn wanted to avoid.
While there was a possibility the dealer was a regular, it was more likely the person was an employee. At the very least, there was almost definitely an inside man. Someone feeding information and looking the other way.
It didn’t escape his notice that Wyatt was in the perfect position for both things. Even though their informant had told them he’d bought from a woman, that didn’t necessarily mean she was working alone. Finn wasn’t ready to mark anyone off the list.
Well, except for Tucker. He was trusting his gut on this one and really didn’t think she was involved. Yes, he was ignoring the tiny voice in his head that said he didn’t want her to be involved, but right now it felt like a safe bet.
Besides, either way, the quickest way to ruin their operation was for the wrong person to learn the real reason he was hanging out at the Rose.
“No ideas,” he cut in, gently squeezing Tucker’s waist in a silent warning.
She frowned, but didn’t contradict him. She did shrug away, though, leaving his palm to tingle where he’d touched her.
“I’m tired of speculating. We’ll probably never know who broke into my place.”
“Are the cops at least making an attempt?”
Wyatt was awfully interested in not only what had happened last night at Tucker’s place, but also the cops’ plan to find the culprit. Just understandable curiosity in his capacity as Tucker’s head of security, or digging for more information because he was responsible and wanted to know what they knew?
“Yeah, but without any prints to run...” Tucker shrugged.
Monique called to Tucker from the other side of the bar where several other members of the staff were gathered. Apparently they met a couple of times a month before the bar opened just to all touch base and go over anything pertinent.
From where he sat perched across the bar, it looked like Monique was the ringleader. She was clearly close to Tucker and took on the second-in-command roll whenever Tucker was busy with other things.
Tucker threw him a side-long glance and walked away. Finn didn’t even try to hide his interest as she did. Why bother? He blatantly stared at her ass. He loved the way she moved, all fluid energy and grace.
“Stop staring at my butt,” she yelled without turning around.
“Not on your life, kitten,” he countered with a chuckle. A twitter of responding laughter rose from the group of women.
How long before he could get his hands on her again? He wondered just how much coaxing he’d need to do to get a quickie in the back office. She was wearing a tiny pair of shorts that barely covered the curve of her ass. He was p
retty sure she’d worn them just to taunt and tease him.
It was working.
He could imagine sweeping everything off that tiny little desk of hers and bending her over it, the sound of her whimpers, groans and sighs as he made that overactive brain of hers shut down and her body light up.
“God, I can’t stand here and watch this,” Wyatt’s voice growled beside him.
Finn didn’t bother to look at the other man. “Watch what?”
“You eye-fuck her from across the room.”
Laughter rolled through his chest. “Then you’d best go find something else to occupy yourself with, because I have no intention of stopping. Tucker Blackburn is one amazing woman and I’m going to appreciate her any chance I get.”
“The only thing saving you right now from getting a fist to the face is Tucker’s reaction to you.”
That did get his attention.
“What do you mean?”
Wyatt’s gaze narrowed. “I’ve known her a very long time and I’ve never seen her let a man touch her, let alone relax into him the way she just did with you. That’s earned you some breathing room, but know I’m watching you.” Wyatt didn’t even wait for his response before walking away.
Finn couldn’t help the thrill that Wyatt’s words shot through him. He wasn’t normally the kind of guy who worried about the men who might have come before him, but with Tucker everything seemed to be different.
And it mattered, knowing she was different with him. Probably more than it should.
From across the space, he watched her interact with her staff. She was intent and animated, although he couldn’t quite hear what she was saying. She commanded respect and attention, earned it from the team she managed. It was clear, from the way the women around her responded in kind, that Tucker didn’t rule with fear or threats. She did it with competence and understanding. Clear direction and expectations.
Heart.
That’s what she had.
Something sharp lanced through his chest. A need to be in that inner circle. A drive to be the recipient of her attention and care. Tucker might have steel walls a foot thick around her heart, but something told him when she finally let someone in...they were there for life.
He wanted that.
A buzz distracted him. Reaching into his back pocket, Finn pulled out his cell and groaned when he saw Simmons’s name on the screen.
Glancing around, he disappeared down the back hallway, away from anyone who might hear his side of this conversation.
“McAllister.”
Simmons didn’t even bother with the niceties. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
“Good news.” Was there any other answer?
“We got a hit off the prints from that bag of drugs.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
The pregnant pause at the other end of the line had Finn’s stomach flipping uncomfortably.
“Bad news. They’re your girl’s.”
“Excuse me.”
“They were a match for Kentucky Rose Blackburn.”
10
“WHAT’S WITH THE dude and the dog?” Michelle glanced over her shoulder to where Duchess was curled up beside the bull.
Crap, they hadn’t talked about their cover story to explain Duchess, just what to say to explain Finn.
“He trains dogs.”
Around her the chaos that normally accompanied her mandatory staff meetings ceased. All attention zeroed in on her, which usually wouldn’t have been an issue. Today, it made her want to squirm.
“Oh, like service animals?” Heather asked.
“Something like that,” Tucker muttered. She hated lying to her team. “Duchess goes with him everywhere.”
Kayla sighed and slumped into her chair. “That’s sweet.”
She didn’t want to admit it, but yeah, the way he was with Duchess was kinda sweet.
“Tucker.” Finn’s sharp voice cut across the room, contradicting the thought she’d just had.
She held up a hand in his direction, giving him the sign to wait for a second. Everyone’s attention had turned from her, and Marcy had just started telling them about her mom’s stint in the hospital. She’d been out for a week dealing with that and Tucker wanted to know how things were going.
That was another reason for staff meetings—for everyone to bond and socialize.
“No,” a rough voice growled in her ear. “Not in a minute. Now.”
He swept a quick, brittle smile around the group. “Sorry, ladies, I need to borrow her for a bit.” His words were an apology, but his tone was a command.
Which pissed Tucker off.
“Whatever you need can wa—”
Her words clogged in her throat when she turned. One good look at the thunderous expression on Finn’s face and her heart stumbled inside her chest. His deep green eyes were shooting straight into her, blazing with anger.
In that split second she realized she’d never seen him truly livid. Sure, he’d been irritated in the middle of that fight. And she sometimes rubbed him the wrong way, but he seemed to think even that was cute. Staring up at him, she could imagine the men and women he’d caught with illegal drugs cowering before him.
Because as strong as she was, she had to fight that urge herself. Not because she was scared—everything inside her knew Finn would never physically hurt her—but because whatever had upset him wasn’t going to be good.
“Now, Tucker. I need to talk to you now.”
“Monique, could you take over, please?” she said, not even bothering to turn around to face her team. “I’m sorry, everyone. I’ll be back in just a few.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Finn growled beneath his breath.
Shaking his grip off, Tucker put some space between them.
He didn’t seem to care, just made a curt movement with his hand obviously issuing Duchess a command to stay. He stalked across the bar, and headed down the back hallway and into her tiny office. Holding the door open for her to enter, he slammed it shut with a resounding bang and then flipped the lock for good measure.
“What’s going on, Finn?”
“I can’t believe I bought it.” He stalked forward, shrinking the space between them. His entire body was rock solid, every muscle tense and tight. Not a good sign.
“Bought what?” Tucker instinctively countered with several steps backward. Until her butt hit the edge of her desk and she had nowhere to go.
“The innocent, businesswoman facade. The I’d never let drugs into my bar line. The bullshit way you trembled when we found the door to your house open, although maybe that part was real. What happened? Your supplier get pissed that you lost his drugs and come looking for payment? Was that a friendly warning?”
Tucker’s legs collapsed, her body folding onto the top of the desk. She stared up at Finn, horror spinning through her.
Had he somehow found out about the drugs she’d discovered? She’d omitted all footage from the one camera that had shown her tumble during the fight—and a small baggie falling out of her pocket—before she’d passed the recording on to Dade and Simmons.
It was obvious he was thinking the worst.
She had to explain. Sweeping her tongue across dry lips, Tucker started to open her mouth.
“Don’t even bother,” he said in disgust. “I can see the guilt all over your face.”
Of course he could. She felt guilty as hell. But that wasn’t right, because she hadn’t done anything wrong, dammit!
He spun away from her, his body quivering with emotion. “I had my suspicions at first.”
Wait. “What?”
“We were told the dealer was a woman. You’re perfectly positioned to run that kind of business with the b
ar as your cover. Of course I suspected you.”
Jesus. The entire time he was seducing her, tempting her, kissing the hell out of her... Had he still believed she was involved when they’d slept together?
Just the thought had her own anger roiling.
“But I let my damn dick convince me you couldn’t be involved. Hell.” He raked his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands. “That was a genius move last night, pushing me away and then coming to my bed.”
Okay, now she was downright pissed. She definitely hadn’t done anything wrong. But there was a part of her that had always feared Finn wouldn’t believe her.
The real issue was—why did it matter?
Before last night Finn wasn’t anything to her. Not really. His opinion shouldn’t have registered as important.
But it was.
She didn’t want him to think the worst of her.
And he damn well owed her the chance to explain.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re dead wrong.”
“Oh, am I?” His voice was silky smooth and deadly. He stalked forward, crowding into her personal space and looming over her. As much as she hated the reaction, she couldn’t stop herself from leaning back, from searching for relief from the intensity that pulsed off him in waves.
What was wrong with her that the energy arching between them had her thighs trembling and her blood pulsing quickly through her veins?
Wrapping both hands around the edge of the desk and bracketing her in, he leaned close. “Why don’t you explain to me how your fingerprints ended up on that bag of meth, Kentucky? Explain to me—how could you look yourself in the mirror every morning and sell that poison?”
Tucker couldn’t breathe. Finn’s gaze bored into her. Anger and anguish filled him up, pouring out through his deep green eyes.
A pit opened up in Tucker’s belly. She didn’t want to care. Didn’t want his pain to matter.
But it did.
“Explain it to me,” he snarled, almost begged. “Make me understand how you could sell such an awful, destructive drug? The same drug that stole my sister from me?”
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