Colin turned down it, slowing and then gunning the throttle again, the Night Train leaping with a growl. It was a narrow, twisty street, which he hadn’t been expecting. They plunged down a sudden hill that made his stomach drop and thick pale rocks crowded up toward the edge of the pavement, jagged, striated formations that cast shadows on the asphalt.
Jenny tapped him on the shoulder again. “Pull over here!” she shouted above the wind.
He did, finding a flat place in the lee of a truck-sized boulder.
Jenny hopped off the bike in one elegant spring, like she’d been doing it all her life.
“Something the matter?” he asked.
“No.” She took off her helmet and shook out her hair, heavy tresses glimmering like water. “Just wanted to check something.” She turned and stepped over a clump of scrubby bushes, heading around behind the rock.
Colin followed, not half as graceful.
Jenny stood on the far side of the rock, hands on her hips, squinting at the uneven expanse of stone just in front of her nose.
“What?” he asked, drawing up beside her.
“I don’t – ah, there it is.” She lifted a finger and pointed at a spot on the boulder. “Right here.”
Nearly weathered away by time and the elements were a series of symbols chiseled into the rock by something crude and makeshift. They were letters:
Derek was here
Lean Dogs Rule
Jenny turned a smile toward him. “My brother was eight when he did that. He used a screwdriver and a big rock as a hammer.”
“Derek. You mean Candyman’s not the name his mama gave him?” He laughed and delighted in the way she rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. It was like she’d forgotten that they were on wary footing. The bike ride seemed to have loosened her up.
“Did anybody tell you why he’s called Candy?” she asked.
“No. Care to shed some light?”
“Hmm. I don’t think that’s my story to tell.”
Colin huffed a breath and feigned dramatic frustration. “You and your secret stories, woman. You act like I’m five. I can handle a whole helluva lot, you know.”
“I know,” she said in a light, teasing voice. She turned and put her back to the rock, braced a boot back against it. “Mr. Gator Hunter.” She grinned. “Do you guys really haul them up by hand and shoot them in the head?”
“Absolutely, baby. Come to the swamp sometime and I’ll show you how.” He gave her the grin again, this time rewarded by a widening of her own smile.
“How barbaric.”
“You know men. We’re all cavemen, basically. Good beer, good sandwich, good fuck – and we’re good to go.”
“Charming. It’s a miracle we can ever resist any of you.”
“Isn’t it?”
He couldn’t believe this was the same woman from a half hour ago. If someone had told him she’d be teasing and flirting with him, he wouldn’t have believed it. But now he was getting all kinds of signals, from the way her chest was sticking out to the way her blue gaze was fixed on his mouth.
“Hey, thanks for the ride,” she said, suddenly soft and vulnerable. “I’d forgotten how fun it is.”
He had to be careful – oh so careful – or she’d spook and go bolting. So with deliberate care he lifted an arm and braced a hand on the warm rock beside her head. Her eyes flicked over to look at it, but otherwise she didn’t react. Then he leaned in closer, until his shadow covered her. “Is that the only fun thing you forgot?” he asked, and the question came out more gentle and less suggestive than he’d intended.
She took a quick breath, eyes widening. “You want me.” Not a question.
“A whole helluva lot.”
“There’s plenty of club girls. Look at you. You could have any of them.”
He breathed a laugh. “Look at me? Is that a compliment?”
“Why me?” she asked, some of the sharpness returning to her voice, the defensive edge creeping back.
“Because you’re making me work for it,” he said, honestly, “and at this point, I gotta know if it’s worth it.”
She stared up at him, unblinking.
“You know I won’t hurt you, right?” Not physically, anyway.
“I know men say a lot of things they don’t mean.”
“So do women,” he shot back, voice not unkind. “Do you hear me feeding you a bunch of pretty bullshit?”
“No.” She glanced away, glanced back…and that was when he saw it in her face for the first time. The desire. And there was nothing subtle about it; the sudden flush of her cheeks, the glazed look of her eyes. She was starving. “I think you’re one big mistake.”
“Have been since conception. Tell me something I don’t know.”
She didn’t, but her eyes went back to his mouth again.
And she met him halfway when he leaned in and kissed her, stretching up on her toes, pressing her lips to his.
It was a jolt. A sudden rippling awareness that moved through him on a hot wave. He wondered if she felt it too, because she didn’t move. They froze, suspended, captivated by that first forbidden taste.
Then he opened his lips against hers, asked for a little more.
She slipped both arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, mouth opening for his tongue on a deep, wordless sound.
Colin had never put much stock in kissing; it was just a means to the ultimate end, something he had to do to get what he really wanted. But this kiss was shocking and molten hot, and he worked it. Tasted her deeply.
Her hands shoved into his short hair, fingertips pressing at his skull. She was a wild thing in his arms, shivering with want. Her hands couldn’t keep still, traveled back down his neck, kneaded at the hard muscles roped over his shoulders.
She didn’t protest when he put his hands on her waist and lifted her, hoisted her up against the rock. Quite the opposite – she wrapped her legs around his waist, gripped him hard, pulling his hips into hers. She bit at his lip. Ground against his erection.
“Shit,” Colin said against her mouth. “Shit, baby, you’re…” She was going to get the best of him if he didn’t level the playing field.
With her legs locked tight on his hips, his hands were free to roam. He reached up under her t-shirt, found the slick satin of her bra and the full shapes of her breasts beneath. She filled his palms, nipples hard nubs through the fabric.
Jenny pulled back from the kiss with a ragged murmur, her eyes coming to his face. She stared at him as he squeezed her breasts, leaned into his touch –
His cellphone rang.
They both froze.
The phone’s ringtone was shrill and insistent.
“Fuck,” Colin breathed, trying to step back from the edge, his heart racing.
“It’s Candy,” Jenny said, and the only consolation was the heavy disappointment in her voice. “You’re a prospect. You have to answer.”
“Goddamn it.” He pulled his hands from her shirt, lowered her slowly to the ground. She wobbled a step, had to catch herself against the rock with an unsteady hand. Colin thought his own knees might give way.
He answered the phone with a snarl. “What?”
“Damn,” Candy’s voice said on the other end. “Is that how you always greet your superiors?”
Colin took another deep breath and willed himself to calm. “No. Sorry.”
Jenny was straightening her shirt, looking at the ground and not at him, still trembling. Shit, he’d gone too fast. The moment was totally shattered, and he had no idea if there was a chance of regaining it again at some point in the future.
“What’s up?” he asked Candy, and couldn’t keep the displeasure from his voice.
“There’s a situation,” the VP said. “Get Jenny back here, ASAP.”
“Right.”
When he hung up, her head lifted, and her face was totally composed now, all traces of passion gone. “Everything okay?”
“No,” he said, feeling self
ish and grim. “Not really.”
She stared at him a moment, beautiful, but distant again.
Only now the pull was worse, because he knew what she tasted like.
“But Jen?” he said. “I answered my own question just now. It’s worth it. Absolutely.”
Twelve
Colin
The ride back to the clubhouse was distinctly less enjoyable. There was the tug of worry in his gut, and there was the stiffness in Jenny’s arms around his waist. He could feel the tension in her, knew it wasn’t just the vibration of the bike but a trembling in her body. She’d wanted him – there was no doubting that – but now she was shaken, and he didn’t know if that was about whatever awaited them at home…or what they’d just done.
Huh. So he was calling it home now.
Candy and Jinx stood side-by-side in the parking lot, waiting for them. Jenny scrambled off the bike the second it was parked with a fast, “Thanks for the ride.” She went inside without looking back.
Colin sighed and unclipped his helmet as his two new brothers – superiors, whatever – advanced.
“She have a nice time?” Candy asked. His expression was pleasant, save for his eyes. Those were the color of frost.
Colin met his stare without shrinking. Fuck you, he thought. She’s a grown-ass woman and I’m not backing off unless she tells me. He nodded. “Yeah. She did. Said she loves riding.”
Candy twitched a chilly grin. “Yeah. She does.”
Jinx cleared his throat loudly. “So…”
“So,” Colin echoed. “What’s the situation?”
Candy grinned for real, some of his usual sparkle returning. “How’d you like to grab a drink, prospect?”
~*~
“Does Swayze work here?” Colin asked as the three of them slid into a wood-walled booth.
“Don’t speak ill of the dead,” Jinx said, seriously.
“Didn’t think I was.”
The Armadillo was a true Texas roadhouse in the old fashioned sense. Wood paneling, low lighting, hardwood floors dusted with peanut shells. It was a big, sprawling place, with two stages, a long bar that ran the length of the back wall, and plenty of booths in shady corners. Candy had picked a spot with a view of the girls in cutoffs grinding against one another on the dance floor, with a single dim lamp overhead, and high booth walls to keep out prying eyes and ears.
Colin leaned his head back and spotted several taxidermy armadillos on the wall, a few lassos and old saddles. Damn. He sure wasn’t in N’awlins anymore.
“Hey, fellas,” a brunette waitress in cutoffs and a halter top drawled as she sashayed up to their table. She laid down cocktail coasters with expertise, flashing lots of cleavage in the process. “What can I getcha tonight?”
Candy gave her a wide grin. “Whiskey rocks all around, darlin’.”
She smiled. “You got it.”
She made a show of walking to the bar, twitching her hips all the way.
“Nice girls here,” Candy said, leaning into Colin until their shoulders touched. “You know. If you’re needing to scratch an itch.”
Colin turned a disbelieving look on him.
Candy’s grin widened.
“Yeah…good to know.” Inwardly, he was thinking no flighty waitress could compare to Jenny’s aloof charm. He was also thinking Candy was trying to fuck him over somehow. Was this some kind of test?
The way the circular booth was situated, it was hard to see anyone approach. Suddenly, there were three men standing across from them.
Colin didn’t jump, but he wanted to.
Candy clapped his hands together. “Boys. Welcome.”
Colin darted a glance sideways, couldn’t meet Candy’s eyes and instead locked gazes with Jinx. The bearded member nodded, gaze serious. This was a game. Colin needed to play it cool.
His insides clenched and he nodded back.
All three men were dressed similarly in a casual cowboy getup: Wranglers, flannel shirts, tooled belts. Their boots were low key, with round toes and heavy soles. The one in the center wore a CAT trucker cap.
CAT braced a hand on the table and leaned toward Candy. “I need to talk to you.”
Candy gestured eloquently to all the empty space at their booth. “Take a seat. I got a drink coming and I intend to enjoy it.”
Colin then found himself between Candy and the guy in the blue flannel who stank of old sweat. CAT and the other guy piled in beside Jinx.
“So how you been, Cooper? How’s the little missus?”
“She left me,” CAT – Cooper – said in a flat voice. “For my brother.”
“Ha!” Candy laughed, one of those hearty, explosive laughs big guys could always get away with. “Sorry to hear it,” he said, still chuckling. “That’s women for ya.”
Cooper gave him a dark stare.
The waitress returned, all wiggly and flirty, setting their drinks down with much bending and chest-thrusting.
“How about a round for our friends, sweetheart?” Candy requested.
“You got it.” She gave him a wink and hurried off.
“See you’re still rolling with the same crew,” Candy said, turning back to their visitors. “How’s it feel to have your fearless leader back?”
The man beside Colin shifted; Colin felt his thigh brush up against his own, gritted his teeth and fought the urge to shove the bastard sideways out of the booth.
Cooper’s frown deepened. “Riley’s nobody’s leader.”
Colin’s turn to get tense. Riley, as in Agent Riley who’d been giving Jenny hassle?
“Ah, Coop,” Candy said, grin turning evil, “ain’t nobody alive who believes that shit. You’re Riley’s little organ grinder monkey.”
“Hey,” he guy next to Colin spoke up.
Colin turned and gave him a stare that quickly shut him up.
Candy released a low, pleased laugh and knocked Colin on the shoulder. “Good boy. Alright, Cooper, let’s not play games. I could sit here all night insulting you, and it’d be fun as hell, but I don’t have time for that. Where’s Riley?”
Cooper’s expression turned smug. He was the one with the upper hand here, or at least he thought so. “What’s it to you? You took his patches. You don’t have any business with him.”
Another sharp grin. “Yeah, except his brother went by Gabe’s and tried to scare the hell out of my sister. Patches or not, I’m responsible for Jen, which means I get to keep tabs on Riley.”
Questions. So many questions swirling through Colin’s head.
“So I’ll ask again,” Candy went on, “where’s Riley?”
Cooper shrugged and looked disinterested. “He’s laying low. Trust me, he don’t want shit to do with your bitch sister anymore.”
Candy slapped the table, and the sound of his big palm hitting the wood was like a gunshot. “Say something like that again,” he said, calmly, “and they’ll be picking pieces of you out of the jukebox for the next week.”
Colin got another thigh-bump from the guy beside him and bumped back, hard, lowering one of his own large fists to the table so the man could get a good look at it. “Don’t fuck with me,” he said through his teeth, just a hiss. “I’ll lay you out.” And then he’d move onto Cooper for calling Jenny a bitch. He’d used that word all his life, thrown it around like it was weightless. But attach it to Jenny? He wanted to stomp on throats.
He caught the quick, sideways glance Candy shot him and thought it held approval. Then the VP turned back to Cooper. “I ain’t gonna go round and round with you jackasses. So you can take this message and deliver it. If Riley steps one foot onto my property, or into Gabe’s restaurant, he’s a dead man.”
People delivered threats all the time, usually with fake bravado and cheesy sincerity. Not so with Candy. Colin actually had a little chill pass through his limbs.
Silent, Cooper slid out of the booth and his two boys followed.
The waitress arrived as they were departing, frown crimping her pretty penciled-on
brows together. “Oh…” she said.
“You can leave the drinks, darlin’, and we’ll take care of them,” Candy assured her.
“Okay.” Another setting-down of glasses that might as well have been a stripper audition.
When she was gone, Colin twisted around to fully face his VP and said, “Okay, what in the fuck is going on?” Before Candy could feed him some line, he went on: “I’ve been watching Jen, and worrying about her, and Candy, bro, she isn’t right. There’s something dark stirring around in her head. And you won’t say, and she won’t say. And what the hell was all that just now? ‘Cause I’m ready to start busting heads, and I need to know where to start.”
Candy looked pleased and amused. “You done?”
“For now.” Shit, he was breathing hard he was so pissed off, hands curled tight into fists.
Candy nodded. “Right. Well, Jen’s ex-husband just got outta jail, and he’s an asshole in the worst way. I’ve got a bad feeling he’s gonna try to fuck with her, and with us. He hates me ‘cause I stripped his patches. Well.” He tipped his head. “The club did. But mostly me. I stripped a lotta patches,” he said, giving Colin a level look. “I’m a patch-stripper. You try to fuck us over, you’re lucky if you get away with blacked out tats and your life intact. Damn lucky. Understand?”
Colin was reeling. Ex-husband? What the hell was this about patch stripping? But he nodded, firming his face up into a stone mask. “Yeah.”
“If you’re loyal to the club, and you’re good to Jen, you and me won’t have a problem. But fuck me over…fuck her over…”
“I get it.”
“Good.” Candy reached for one of the fresh drinks the waitress had left and downed it in a single gulp, the ice clinking against the sides of the glass. In a more honest voice, gasping a little from the whiskey, he said, “I had to clean out this club when I came home seven years ago. I need big guys, strong guys, decent guys. And right now, I’m counting on you to show me that you’re a Lécuyer, and not whatever you call yourself now.”
Colin felt his jaw get tight. “Why does everybody think Felix is so great?”
“Because he is. It’s time to bury your bullshit hurt feelings and take a lesson from him.”
Snow in Texas (Lean Dogs Legacy #1) Page 6