by Karen Kelley
Cody knew that for a fact. How many times had she asked her mother to move in with her? Too damn many times to count. She’d finally stopped asking.
It hurt to know her own mother would probably rather sleep in the streets than move in with her daughter. Goddamn it. That hurt more than she wanted to admit.
Hell, maybe her mother was smarter than she gave her credit for. They’d kill each other after a week of living together.
She grabbed a soda and twisted the cap off, flinging it toward the trash but missing. She squeezed the plastic bottle so hard soda fizzed over the top.
“Son-of-a-bitch.” She set her drink down and grabbed the dishcloth, wiping up her mess. “It doesn’t matter what you do with your life. I don’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care about anyone.” As she straightened, she tossed the cloth into the sink and made her way back to the bathroom.
By the time she stripped out of the rest of her clothes and sank down into the tub of warm water, she’d reined in her emotions. She was tired. It had been a long-ass week. Hell, her whole body trembled from exhaustion. No wonder she was dredging up painful memories.
But it had been so worth the long hours and total exhaustion to bring Leonard down.
The steam from the water swirled around her. She’d done it. Leonard was behind bars and tomorrow she’d pick up a nice little check. Small, but nice. Every penny counted. Her bank account was growing. Another year and she’d be set.
Her eyes drifted closed. Pearl said she’d never leave Fort Worth unless it was to a house on the beach. Florida, no less. Okay, if that was what it would take to get her mother away from her tiny apartment, so be it. She had no idea why she should even care, but she did. Okay, so maybe it sounded like a good idea to her, too.
She could see herself sunning on a pristine beach, listening to the sounds of waves gently rolling into shore. No problems, no worries.
A new start.
She could get used to the slow pace. Maybe open a little store that sold shells or something. Her mother would like that. She’d be surrounded by all the knickknacks she could stand.
She’d never been to the ocean. Only a few hours away, but every time she’d start to leave something would come up. Maybe she was more like her mother than she thought—afraid to leave her own backyard.
Yeah right, she wasn’t afraid of nothing or nobody. If she wanted to, she’d pack her bags and be out the door tomorrow.
She leaned her head against the back of the tub and closed her eyes. Damn, she was tired.
So tired she’d let Josh kiss her, and that had led to the motel. Damned stupid. She’d played with fire—and he’d made her burn.
He was better than all her fantasies. He was the only man she’d ever met who could make her toes curl.
She stretched her foot out and bumped on the hot water. Steam rose around her as she inched her shoulders under the water.
For just a moment, she lost herself in the memories. His hands gliding over her body, his mouth following right behind his caressing fingers. She sighed with regret.
She’d never been good with relationships and Josh would be no different. Falling in love with him would be too damned easy and she didn’t want another broken heart.
She sighed and bumped the hot water off. No, better to keep her distance from now on and not risk getting hurt.
Josh sat in his car, staring straight ahead at the motel, but he couldn’t stop the memories from flooding his mind of another motel. Damn, he had to quit thinking about Cody. Having sex with her was supposed to get her out of his mind.
It hadn’t.
Okay, he had to concentrate. He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror and tugged his cap a little lower down on his forehead. The pin-striped coveralls were a good idea. His own mother would think he looked like a maintenance man.
After he climbed out of his Chevy, he grabbed his tools from the trunk and slammed the lid. Now all he had to do was convince the skip to open the door.
The manager had said Roberta Smith was registered in room 208. He’d only caught a glimpse of her once, but he was almost positive her last name wasn’t Smith.
He’d been following leads for a few days now, and they all landed right here at the Number Nine Motel, a one-story dump with all the rooms opening to the parking area.
The manager was a short, balding guy who didn’t ask many questions if you had the cash to pay for a room—or for a little information. Why should he care? Most of the occupants were lowlifes: prostitutes, druggies, skips. Hell, the motel was a smorgasbord of waste.
Roberta Weston was one of them. A known drug addict and prostitute caught selling too close to a grade school. This time she’d do a longer stint in prison. She was on the run.
He strode to her room and knocked on her door. “Maintenance,” he called out.
“Yeah, yeah, just a minute.” She was pulling on a thin robe when she opened the door. “You’d better fix that goddamned air conditioner or I’ll—” She glanced at him, her eyes widening. “Shit! If you’re a maintenance man then I’m a fuckin’ nun.”
She tried to slam the door in his face but he caught it with his boot and shoved it open. The door banged against the wall. She made a run toward the bed, grabbing her purse, but he was right behind her. He tackled her. The air left her body in a whoosh. He tossed the purse over the side and out of her reach.
“You son-of-a-bitch!”
Baring her claws, she aimed toward his face. He grabbed her wrist before she could scratch him, but at the same time she brought her knee up. He twisted away.
“Will you be still before you hurt yourself?” he panted. Or him. Damn, she was like a starving wildcat that had been let out of her cage and he was a juicy piece of prime rib.
She snarled and jerked her knee up again. He moved just in time and she only caught the inside of his thigh. Too close for comfort. He threw his leg over her bottom half and pinned her arms to the bed.
That’s when he heard a chuckle behind him. Great, he had an audience. He only hoped it wasn’t one of Roberta’s friends. He glanced over his shoulder and groaned. Well, damn.
“You have a thing about rolling around on motel beds this week, don’t you?” Cody sauntered into the room.
“Instead of making smart-ass remarks, I could use a hand here.”
“Now you’re wanting applause, too?” She shook her head. “I didn’t know you had an ego problem.” Laughter spilled out of her.
This was all he needed. The woman straining against his hold seemed to have an endless supply of energy. He still had to figure out how he was going to reach the cuffs in his back pocket and get them on her. He had a feeling even cuffed this one wouldn’t be close to subdued.
He really disliked picking up female skips. Women didn’t fight clean and this one didn’t look like she was going to be the exception.
“If you’re not going to help, then get the hell out.” He damn sure didn’t need her smart-ass remarks. Roberta wiggled a hand loose. He grabbed her wrist before she scraped her nails down the side of his face.
“I’ll make a deal,” Cody told him, casually crossing her arms in front of her and leaning her hip against the dresser. “Fifty percent.”
“You bitch, I’m not letting you take me in, either.”
“She’s a damn contortionist.” He couldn’t hold her. She might as well have been smeared in butter for all the good he was doing. He certainly wasn’t having much luck.
As if to prove him right, she slithered out from under him and onto the floor.
“Okay, fifty percent,” he panted.
Roberta grabbed her purse as Cody stepped forward. She reared her fist back at the same time Roberta brought out a gun, but that was as far as the skip got. Cody’s aim was sure, her fist landing on the woman’s jaw with a loud crack.
Roberta stumbled back a step, dropped her purse and the gun, stared at Cody as if in a daze, then her ass slapped the yellowed linoleum floor with a resounding s
mack.
Josh cringed. “What’d you hit her for? Hell, I could’ve done that.” He frowned as he grabbed the gun Roberta had dropped.
Cody rubbed her fingers across her knuckles. “But you didn’t. Another minute and she’d have blown your head off.”
“I don’t make a habit of hitting women.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled his cuffs out.
“Sometimes you have to use a little force.”
“I have a feeling hitting her didn’t bother you as much as it did me.”
She grinned. “You’d be right.”
God, he really liked the way she smiled. The whole room seemed to light up. It seemed like forever since he’d seen her. Had it only been a week? He had a feeling she’d been avoiding him, but it didn’t matter, she was here now.
He slapped the cuffs on Roberta, who was starting to come around a little more.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” His glance swept over her. “And dressed like a…maid? I know business has been slow, but it’s not so bad you have to moonlight, is it?”
Her mouth turned down. “Funny. I could say the same for you.” Her gaze scraped over him. “Maintenance man? Sorry, but you don’t fit the picture of someone who’d work in this dump.”
“Damn.” He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the dresser mirror. “I thought I did a pretty good job, especially with the coveralls.” He looked in the mirror again. Yeah, maybe she was right. He shouldn’t have shaved this morning. Scruffed up a little more.
They each took an arm and began to drag Roberta to his Chevy.
“So, what are you doing here?” he asked, changing the subject.
“You nabbed my skip.” She stepped sideways so he could go through the doorway first.
“You’ve been watching Roberta?” How could they have missed each other?
They dumped Roberta into the backseat of his car and closed the door.
“Apparently Erik is still on his honeymoon. We were after the same skip again.”
“Figures.” He took a deep breath and leaned against the car. “Maybe we should go in as partners. We make a pretty good team. I save your…” His glance slid lower. She did have one sweet ass. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to her face. “I save your hide and you save mine.”
She shook her head. “I work alone, but I’ll follow you to the station,” Cody told him.
“Don’t you trust me to give you half?”
She smiled sweetly, but it didn’t even come close to reaching her sexy green eyes.
“I don’t trust anyone. I thought you knew that.”
“Then let me buy you lunch just so I can prove how trustworthy I am.” He leaned toward her, inhaling the soft fragrance of her sweet perfume. The memory of what they’d shared filled him with thoughts of holding her close, tasting her lips, feeling her body pressed against his, sinking into her body.
Maybe he could talk her into having lunch at his place, but when he asked, she shook her head, dashing all his plans.
“I’m already having lunch with someone.”
As she walked to her bike, he followed. Strange how the thought of her having lunch with someone else made his gut clench. Hell, he’d never seen her with another man. Turbo Manning had been sniffing around her skirts, but he didn’t seem her type. The bounty hunter made some of the skips he dragged in look clean. He had no ethics whatsoever. A real jerk.
If not him, then who?
“So, meet you at the station?” Cody asked.
“Yeah, okay.” He started back toward his car, but at the last minute turned around. He had to know. “Who are you having lunch with?”
She looked at him, seemed momentarily taken aback by his question, then a slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Jealous?”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes widened, as if she hadn’t expected that answer. “My mother. I’m having lunch with her.”
“She’s not dead then.”
“Not unless there’s something she hasn’t told me.”
He frowned. Smart-ass. “I’ll meet you at the station.”
So maybe he had no business interfering in Cody’s life. Damn, she probably thought he was hung up on her or something. Sure, he wanted her in his bed again, but that was all. He certainly didn’t want to get tangled up in her life. He didn’t do tangles.
But he hadn’t nearly gotten his fill of her.
He slid beneath the wheel and turned the ignition key, glancing in his rearview mirror, he met Roberta’s glare.
“Don’t take it personally, Roberta. I’m just doing my job.” He grinned.
Her eyes narrowed. “You may be a good bounty hunter, but I know women and you ain’t got a chance with that one.” She rubbed her jaw. “I’ve heard about Cody Carlyle. You’d do better rubbing against a block of ice than you would her.” She leaned forward. “Now, if it’s a good lay you’re wanting maybe we could ditch the motorcycle bitch and do a little trading.”
He wouldn’t tell her that Cody wasn’t nearly as cold on the inside as Roberta thought. “Didn’t you know…everyone has their melting point, Roberta?”
And he intended to make Cody melt at least one more time. It would be interesting to see what it would take to get her into his bed again. And to see just how fast he could raise her temperature.
Chapter 4
Cody shifted her weight to her other foot, bit her bottom lip, then determinedly knocked on her mother’s apartment door. Long seconds passed.
Had Pearl drunk so much that she’d passed out? It wouldn’t be the first time.
The door opened.
Cody quickly ran her gaze over Pearl. She looked fine—even sober. Her short, light brown hair was brushed and her clothes clean. Why did her smile always look forced, though?
And she was actually wearing the pants and top Cody had bought her for her birthday. Until now, she’d wondered if her mother had even taken the price tags off.
“Cody, how nice of you to drop by. Why didn’t you call and I could’ve made us a nice lunch.” She opened the door wider. “Well, no matter, come inside. I think I have some leftover roast. I can make us a sandwich.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her gaze darted around the room as she stepped inside. Everything looked the same…but something was different. Before she could figure out what it was, her mother began talking again.
“You look like you haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. I swear you’ve lost weight every time I see you.”
Great, she’d picked a day when Pearl’s motherly instincts were kicking in. It would be fine, except these times were rare.
“I can’t stay but a minute. I wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. Groceries…” She shrugged.
“I’m fine. The last time you were here you brought enough to fill my freezer.” She looked away, then squared her shoulders and met Cody’s gaze head-on. “Stay a while. I have lemonade in the fridge.”
“Lemonade?” Jeez, she sounded like a regular Suzy Homemaker.
Pearl frowned. “Yeah, just plain lemonade. No alcohol. Just lemons, sugar, and water.”
There was a hard edge in her voice. This was more like the Pearl she knew.
Her mother quickly turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Stay if you want. Makes no matter to me.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. Damn, why was it like this every time? They were always walking on eggshells around each other…and they were always cracking beneath their feet.
She drew in a deep breath. “It’s okay, Pearl. I can stay a while, and lemonade sounds good. It’s so fucking hot outside it’ll steal your breath away.”
“Watch your language. I’m still your mother.”
But sometimes you make it easy to forget.
“Sorry.” She went into the tiny kitchen and got two glasses out of the cabinet while her mother brought the lemonade to the table.
“It’s okay. I know I wasn’t the best mother to be teaching you. Hell, Rodney taught you more tha
n I ever did.” She went back for the roast and mayo.
Cody’s hand stilled for a moment before she set the glasses and two saucers on the table. She didn’t meet her mother’s eyes. “Do you ever think about him? Rodney, I mean.”
Her mother sat at the table and began spreading mayo on the bread. “Sometimes,” she said, a wistful expression on her face. “He was a good man. The war did a number on his head, but most of the time he was good.” She looked at her daughter. “I guess he was partial to you. He had a daughter of his own, you know, but his wife ran off with her and he never saw his kid again. Same as your father did to us. Maybe that’s what drew you two together more than anything. Two lost souls.”
“Then he left. Just like Daddy.” A vice tightened around her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She sliced harder than necessary into the roast.
“Rodney drifted out of our lives just like he drifted in. One day he was there, the next day he wasn’t. I know you’ve always thought I had something to do with his leaving but I didn’t. Everyone makes their own choices.” She handed a plate to Cody.
“I never thought that. I knew it was his decision. It would’ve been nice, though, if he’d stayed.” And it wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much.
“Maybe so. The only fault I had with him is teaching you how to fight. A girl shouldn’t know that kind of stuff. That’s why you haven’t hooked up with a man. They all know you can beat the hell out of them.”
Cody laughed. “You think that’s the reason?”
Pearl smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Cody felt a connection with the woman who’d given her life.
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” Pearl continued. “Sometimes men aren’t worth killing.”
“Like Dad?”
“Not worth killing, not worth talking about, either.” Her lips clamped together.
She sighed. It was the same, always the same when she brought up the subject of her father. She could deny it all she wanted but there was a burning need in her to discover more about him. The only information she had was that he’d walked out of the house when she was a baby, and never returned. What if he’d been in an accident? What if he’d tried to get home, but something happened?