by Karen Kelley
Admit it, he told himself. He just couldn’t get enough of her.
But nothing had happened this morning. He’d been so damn close to the sexiest woman on earth, and she’d been naked beneath a thin, white cotton sheet, and he hadn’t done a damn thing about it. Maybe because he’d sensed it wouldn’t be the same this morning. That she needed a little space between them.
Wade would laugh and tell him that he was losing his touch. Wade used to tell him a lot of things, like how he was trying to fix the world…trying to save everyone.
That part of himself was behind him now. He’d hung up his white hat. He was in it for the money, and his bank account was starting to look pretty damn healthy. Someday he would have his P.I. agency. Another couple of years, after it was off the ground, he’d be able to sit back and just take it easy—no worries, no problems.
Some people might say he was running away, but he wasn’t. Wade was wrong. He was just through trying to save the world.
He started the Mustang and backed out of the space. He’d go home, change clothes, and run down to the agency to see how many files Erik had. At least tracking down a few skips would take his mind off everything.
Namely tropical breezes and a very sexy bounty hunter.
A fresh set of clothes, two cups of strong black coffee and two hours later, he pushed the door open to Erik’s bail bond office.
His secretary glanced up, then smiled. Abigail Horton was sweet, if a little absentminded. A grandmother of six, she was forever talking about her grandchildren. Josh didn’t really mind, but with Erik’s newly married status, the office was more than a little disorganized.
“Josh, hello.” She smiled. “Erik’s in his office.”
He closed the door. “I thought I’d look through some files.”
She shook her head. “You work too hard. A nice man like you should settle down and have a few kids.”
“But you’re already taken. Now, if you’d consider leaving Cid for me I might just take your advice.”
She blushed and downed her head. “You’re a born flirt, Josh Pierce. I don’t have time for this nonsense. Go on with yourself.” She nodded toward a box. “The open files are in there.”
He went around her desk and picked up the box, carrying it to a desk in the corner. The building was small. One semi-large room, a short hallway with a bathroom on one side and a storage closet on the other. Erik’s office was in the back. It served the purpose, and Abby always kept the place smelling like Old English polish and decorated with pictures of her grandchildren and their childish drawings.
The office might look small and insignificant, but Erik had more work than he could handle. One reason why he used three bounty hunters. Actually, Turbo was part-time. Turbo said he’d rather work the recovery network—said there was more competition to keep him in shape.
Josh thought Turbo just liked climbing over other agents so he could get to the top of the heap. The recovery network was a kind of free for all. First one to nab the skip would get the pie.
Josh sat in the chair and kicked back, pulling out the first file. It didn’t interest him. He tossed it on the desk and reached for the next one. Calvin Bastrop’s file. He glanced through it, thinking he might just take this one on principle.
The cops arrested the little shit for selling drugs to his college friends. That wasn’t what caught his interest, though. It was the accusation by a young girl who said she was drugged, then gang-raped.
Maybe she was lying. He didn’t know, but just looking at Calvin’s picture, his gut instinct told him she might be telling the truth.
Calvin had the look of a young man who came from money and didn’t know when he had it so good: perfect hair, perfect smile, perfect teeth, perfect tan. Smugness oozed from his pores. His eyes said no matter what he did, Daddy would get him off. So smug he’d missed his court date.
First offense—at least that’s what his file said. Daddy had probably bailed him out on more than one occasion. First offenders were a bad risk for a bail bondsman. Most of the time, they jumped bail, terrified at the thought of going to jail, but this one wouldn’t stray far from home.
He flipped back to the first page. Calvin didn’t look the type who would let much of anything scare him at this point in his life. He’d think differently if he ever spent any time in the slammer.
The door opened, drawing his attention. Turbo Manning strolled inside. Six feet tall and with a swagger that got on Josh’s last nerve. He was a braggart. Josh came from the school where actions spoke louder than words.
Abigail looked up when the door opened, but downed her head and continued working without a word of greeting.
Turbo didn’t seem to care; he grinned and sauntered to the desk where Josh sat. Josh didn’t bother moving his feet off the desk’s surface, but instead returned his attention to the file he was reading. It didn’t stop Turbo from looking over his shoulder.
“Calvin Bastrop, I hauled the rich boy in yesterday. I guess you’re too late.”
He tossed the file on the desk and picked up another one. Apparently, Turbo wasn’t ready to drop the conversation.
“Yeah, you’ll have to get up earlier than this if you want to beat me to the punch.”
The thought of punching Turbo had entered his mind, but he didn’t want to upset Abigail. Instead, he opened another file, scanned the sheet, and flipped the page, casually looking over the next sheet. “Apparently Cody was up before you a couple of weeks ago when she beat you to the skip,” he casually pointed out.
Turbo’s mouth turned down. “Yeah, well, she just got lucky.”
“Not from what I heard.”
“You can’t believe anything a woman as cold as her says. Hell, I don’t think she even likes men. I bet she only does women. She won’t let a man even get close to her.”
“Maybe you’re not her type.”
He snorted. “Yeah, and you are? You might as well give up and quit sniffing around her. Ain’t no man with balls big enough to get between her legs.”
The door opened again and Cody sauntered inside. She nodded toward him, spoke to Abigail, but barely looked in Turbo’s direction.
Damn, she looked sweet. Black jeans and a red T-shirt that barely reached the waistband of her jeans. When she moved, a tantalizing glimpse of tanned skin peeked out, tempting him to do more than look.
He really hated when people misjudged others. Especially when it came to Cody. He refused to delve into the reasons why, other than the fact that he didn’t really like Turbo.
She abruptly turned around. “Your wallet’s at my place. I put it up last night, then forgot to give it to you this morning.” She glanced at her watch. “Where are you going to be in a couple of hours?”
“The Corner Café for lunch.”
She nodded. “I’ll drop it off there. Erik in his office?”
“Yeah.”
“See you in a couple of hours.”
Her gaze moved to Turbo, but without saying a word, she left the room. Josh watched her walk away. Damn, she had a nice swing in her hips.
When she shut the door, Turbo looked him in the eye. “You gonna tell me you spent the night with Cody?”
Josh went back to the file he was looking at. “I’m not tellin’ you shit. Maybe your problem is that you don’t have big balls, but I would definitely say Cody is all woman.”
“I’ll be back later when there’s not as many smartasses around.” Turbo stomped to the door and slammed out of the office.
Abigail chuckled. “Now that was funny. Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy having you around?”
He grinned, but was a little embarrassed she’d overheard. Damn, she reminded him of his grandmother.
“I don’t know how you managed to spend the night at Cody’s apartment, but I’d say you put a glow on that girl’s face. About time someone did.” She continued shuffling through the papers on her desk.
He opened his mouth, but quickly snapped it closed. What could he
say?
“I like that you took Turbo down a few notches. I don’t think he’s any better than the people he goes after.” She looked up then, winked, and went back to arranging the papers on her desk.
He didn’t think he’d given Abigail as much credit as she deserved. “I think Cid is a very lucky man.”
“Of course he is, and if he forgets, you can bet your last dollar I’ll remind him.”
Abigail was another one-in-a-million woman. He went back to reading the file. Pete Watson. He glanced at the stats. Thirty-eight, robbery, assault on an elderly woman—stole her purse. He swallowed past the bile that rose in his throat as his gaze slid down the page.
Sometimes his job was personal. There were two things he didn’t like: men who beat on women and people who hurt the elderly or kids. He jotted down some notes, but out of the corner of his eye, he watched Cody shut the door to Erik’s office.
“Don’t work too hard, Abigail,” Cody said.
“Oh, honey, I’ll never be guilty of that.”
Cody sailed out of the office, but in her wake, she left the scent of tropical breezes and fantasies that Josh would rather not think about.
He cleared his head and turned to Abigail. “Anyone on this case?”
“Pete Watson? No, he’s all yours. I’ll mark it down. Poor Erik’s been confusing a lot of files lately.”
He didn’t think Erik was the only one, but he didn’t mention his thoughts on the subject. Instead, he tucked his notes in his pocket, said good-bye, and walked out into the sunshine, inhaling deeply.
Damned if he couldn’t smell the tropical breeze out here. For just a moment, he closed his eyes and took another deep breath.
Maybe that was his problem. He never could resist going back for seconds. With Cody around, he’d discovered his appetite for more of her was getting worse rather than better. It was too easy for him to envision her arms wrapped around his neck, her naked body pressed intimately against his. Her breasts crushed against his chest, her tight nipples scraping across his bare skin.
She would probably be the death of him. Oh, but what a glorious way to die.
There was no reason for her to be nervous. Yeah right, Cody thought to herself. Then why were her hands damp?
I’m only returning a wallet.
His wallet.
Why did Josh have so much control over her mind, her emotions, her body? The truth this time. No lies, not even to herself. She knew, without a doubt, no man had ever sent a thrill through her like Josh had.
She stopped resisting the memory, letting his touch, the feel of his lips on hers, swirl through her senses. The way his tongue had stroked hers. A deep ache began to throb inside her. One that wouldn’t easily go away.
Damn, damn, damn! Why had she let him turn her into a puddle of mush at the mere thought of having sex with the great Josh Pierce?
Uh huh, sure. As if she had any control over her thoughts when the man was around. She had to get over this infatuation with him before he drove her crazy. He didn’t know how to be faithful to just one woman. Last month he’d had that brunette bitch hanging all over him. They’d been practically attached at the hip.
No, she wouldn’t get involved with him. The people who’d come and gone in her life had taught her well how to guard her heart to keep it from being broken one more time—don’t get close enough to get hurt. She could guard her heart against Josh.
Shaking her head, she wiped her palms down the front of her jeans, threw her leg over the Harley, and started the bike. It roared to life. The peace and contentment that usually came when the Harley rumbled beneath her just wasn’t there.
She was restless. As if she needed to be somewhere else. Maybe she should take off. Just leave. There was a sudden roaring in her ears, like the crash of waves against the rocks. When she took a deep breath, she could almost smell the salt in the air.
No, getting away wasn’t her problem. Her grip on the handlebars tightened.
As she pulled into the flow of traffic, she knew exactly what was wrong. It was as if she stood on the very edge of a precipice, looking down.
She and Josh were dancing, but when he got a little too close to finding out what made her tick, she’d get scared and move back a step, afraid that last step off the edge would send her spiraling downward and the fall might be too much for her to recover from.
She flipped her right blinker, slowed, and turned the corner.
That was the absolute first and last time she ever took a man home with her. Bad mistake.
She pulled into a parking space in the lot at the side of the café, shifted into neutral, and cut the engine. Okay, she could do this. No sweat.
She drew in a deep, shaky breath and swung her leg over the Harley. Reaching into the saddlebag, she brought out Josh’s wallet. She’d give it back and wouldn’t let him talk her into having lunch with him. She was pretty sure that’s why he’d told her he would be at the café. The less time she spent in Josh’s company the better off she’d be.
Her gaze skimmed over the cars until it landed on the orange Mustang. A sigh slipped from her lips. He did have a set of the sweetest wheels she’d ever had the pleasure of driving, though.
Shaking off her desire to stroke a fender one last time, she resolutely strode to the door and opened it. Once inside, she let her eyes adjust. It only took her a second to spot him—and know that it hadn’t been his intention to invite her to lunch.
Why would he want to have lunch with her when there was already a sexy little blond bitch sitting next to him, staring at him as if he were her knight in shining armor?
Chapter 8
Josh wondered how in the hell he could get rid of Marianne when the bell above the café door jingled. When he started to look up, she grabbed his hand. She was the touchy-feely type. It hadn’t taken but one night to feel smothered.
They’d eaten at a nice restaurant, and at first her adoring looks flattered him, but after thirty minutes or so, the look began to wear on his nerves. She hadn’t been like this when they’d first met, had she?
He’d planned on dropping Marianne off at her apartment and leaving as quickly as possible, but she’d been nervous about going inside by herself. What could he do?
Now he couldn’t get rid of her. If he’d known she was in the café, he would have waited for Cody outside, but before he knew what hit him, Marianne had slid a chair close to his and sat down, grabbing his hand—which he now tugged free.
He glanced toward the door.
Great, had his thoughts conjured up Cody? She marched toward them, and she didn’t look a bit happy.
So maybe this was for the best. He’d told himself earlier he had to stop thinking about her. They both knew a relationship wouldn’t work. Hell, they were too much alike. They’d probably kill each other.
“Your wallet.” Cody tossed it on the table.
Marianne looked between them. “Josh, is there something you’re not telling me?” Her voice rose an octave with each word.
He closed his eyes and counted to ten. The pounding started at the base of his skull and worked its way around to his forehead. When he opened his eyes, Marianne looked ready to start bawling, and Cody…Well, if her eyes could shoot bullets, he’d be dead right now.
He had no idea why she’d be so angry. It wasn’t like she would’ve accepted his lunch invitation.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Cody grated out. “He’s all yours.” She turned on her heel and strode back the way she’d come.
“Cody!” He started to stand, but Marianne grabbed his hand. He didn’t know whether it was accidental or on purpose that she pressed it against her breasts.
“Let her go. You don’t need her when you have me. I’m so much better for you, I promise.”
The door slammed behind Cody as she stormed out of the café, the little bell above the door crashing to the floor.
His attention turned back to Marianne. Shit, she had that look on her face. The one that told him she was ab
out to let loose with a major crying jag.
Hadn’t she told him she wanted to move to Hollywood and try for an acting career? Well, right now he felt like he’d stepped onto the set of a very bad movie.
“Marianne.” He spoke slowly and distinctly. “I spent one night with you. That’s all it was. There is no you and me. We’re not a couple. I’m sorry, but you need to get a life. One that doesn’t include me.” He pulled his arm from her grasp.
“You don’t…” She sucked in a dramatic sob. “You don’t love me anymore?”
Josh noticed people were starting to turn and stare. The same people who’d watched Cody leave none too quietly, and it didn’t look like their sympathies were with him.
“I’ve never loved you, Marianne,” he said, keeping his voice down and hoping the crowd didn’t go ballistic and form a lynch party.
Damn, tears began streaming down her face. Where the hell were they coming from? She could fill a bucket.
“But what…what if I’m pregnant?”
One older woman’s mouth dropped open, then snapped closed, her eyes narrowing to slits. He could almost see her swinging a rope from her hand. He’d better think of something else—and damn fast.
Give him a six-foot, brawny-bruiser, fighting mad bond-jumper any day over a crying female.
He drew in a deep breath. “Marianne, we didn’t have sex,” he softly told her.
She sniffed. “We didn’t?”
“No, we didn’t.” He pulled napkins from the dispenser and handed them to her. “You asked me to your apartment. I’d just come off a two-week case and was so damned tired that I fell asleep on your sofa.” He drew in a deep breath. “I left a note on your pillow.”
“We didn’t have sex?”
He shook his head.
He’d quietly crept into her room, planning on waking her with a kiss and making up for the night before, but as soon as he opened the door, the last thing on his mind was sex.
Marianne’s room was wall-to-wall stuffed animals: pink elephants, cutesy puppies in rainbow shades, little kittens with long hair. On one wall, next to a canopy bed billowing with lace, someone had painted a rainbow.