Still, I was annoyed.
“I was worried to death you’d do something gonzo.”
His forehead came to mine. “Yeah, that’s what kept your mind off inventing ways to push me away.”
I could just not believe him. “You’re incredibly annoying,” I snapped, pulling my forehead away and putting my hands on his chest and pushing (which didn’t work, per usual).
He ignored my comment and started his own topic. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“You are not,” I said but his lips were coming toward mine and I couldn’t tear my eyes from them. “Luke, my lip gloss!” I protested right before his mouth hit mine.
In the end I had to repair my lip gloss and Luke had to wipe Jet’s application off his mouth with the back of his wrist.
Not to mention his kiss was so thorough, Luke was going to get part of his revenge because, even after shaky-handed lip gloss application, I was going to walk in to see Noah in the waning throes of a serious Luke Lip Fog.
* * * * *
“Who’s that?” I asked, staring at a guy I’d never seen in my life. He was sitting on the side of the bed in the small, sparsely furnished (read: bed only), secure room at the back of the offices, a room they called the Holding Room.
Hector and Vance were in with him. He had a fat lip, a swollen nose and was holding his torso straight like bending would cause pain but otherwise he looked healthy as an ox.
And he was not Noah.
Luke had walked in the room in front of me. Tex wheeled Winnie in the room behind me. Monty was standing outside.
I stopped at Luke’s side, Tex and Winnie stopped at mine.
“Fuck,” the man said, his eyes on Winnie.
“What do you mean, who’s that?” Hector asked me.
“I mean, who’s this guy?” I turned to Luke. “I’ve never seen this guy in my life.”
“But, that’s Jeremiah,” Winnie told me.
I turned to stare at her, thinking she might be confused but you could tell by the blistering look she was aiming at the guy she was far from confused.
Wow.
“Okay,” I said to Winnie. “But it isn’t Noah.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” Luke said from beside me and I turned back to him.
“No,” I replied and I watched his mouth get tight. I looked back at the guy.
He had Noah’s loose description. He was stocky, his hair color was not quite brown, not quite blond and he had blue eyes. But Noah was slightly slimmer and definitely cuter.
“I can’t believe this, I got all psyched up to confront Noah and I get this guy?” I cried in exasperation.
I mean, really, what the hell?
Luke turned to Tex. “Get me Brody.”
“I don’t know where he –” Tex started.
Luke moved, it was a barely there movement but it made a chilly statement.
“Calm down, badass. I’ll find Brody,” Tex muttered and took off.
“Been waitin’ all day for this to come out,” Jeremiah said, grinning through his fat lip. “The Nightingale Boys fuck up. It’s beautiful. Walt’s gonna piss his pants laughing.”
Uh-oh.
All of a sudden I realized the seriousness of the matter. I felt the danger in the air and I felt a freak out start to happen.
“Maybe you shouldn’t talk,” I advised him and I thought I was being nice. A lot nicer than he deserved considering he was Jeremiah.
Jeremiah’s eyes slid to me and they were so cold, my freak out magnified to creepy proportions.
“Walt and I drew straws for you,” he told me, voice and smile oily slick. “Once we got a look at you, we both wanted a shot. I got the short straw which meant I got Aunt Jemima here and Walt got a good taste of you. He said you tasted sweet as cherry pie.”
Mrs. Conrad had gasped at the Aunt Jemima comment. I felt, rather than saw, Luke go still. I was frozen to the spot from the minute he began talking.
“Ava, get Mrs. Conrad out of here,” Luke ordered, voice controlled but it held an angry edge.
I still couldn’t move but I could talk and I was pissed way the hell off. Pissed enough to disregard Luke’s order.
“You aren’t very smart, are you?” I asked Jeremiah.
“Smart enough to get her money, her car, not that she could use it, and a whole shitload of gold from you.”
“But not smart enough not to get caught and not smart enough to know you just fucked yourself by not keeping your mouth shut,” I returned.
“Cherry Pie, been dyin’ for a good eye full of you and you gotta know, it was worth it,” Jeremiah said, his eyes sliding the length of me and I added a long hot shower to my evening schedule.
“Ava, get out of here,” Luke’s voice had turned deadly.
“You keep digging deeper,” I ignored Luke and said to Jeremiah.
“They can’t do dick,” Jeremiah taunted.
It was my turn to smile. He was so wrong.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, do you?” I asked him.
“Ava –” Luke said.
“Yeah,” Jeremiah broke in, standing and everyone in the room tensed. “Supposedly shit hot PIs but not shit hot enough to know they got the wrong guy.”
“Yes, I will give you that,” I allowed. “They should’ve known no way I’d give a piece of my ‘cherry pie’ to a guy like you. It was lucky when you two were deciding who would screw me over that Noah got the long straw at least he was cute. You wouldn’t have got a first date.”
The smile fled from his face.
I went on. “Anyway, fortune favors the bold and if these boys are nothing else, they’re bold. They may have been looking for Noah but they found you which works just as well because Mrs. Conrad might have a few words to say to you.”
“I don’t give a shit what Aunt Jemima has to say,” Jeremiah snarled.
You would think I couldn’t move faster than three shit hot PIs, especially wearing four and a half inch spiked heels, but I could.
I was on Jeremiah in a flash, hands on his shoulders and, lucky for me, a slit in my skirt deep enough for my knee to connect pretty fucking hard with his gonads.
He dropped to his knees, hands to his crotch, a long groan escaping his mouth.
A steel-band-like arm wrapped around my waist and I was pulled back several feet, my body pressed tight against Luke’s.
I ignored Luke and his arm and hissed to Jeremiah, “Be nice.”
“Fuck you,” Jeremiah moaned and it didn’t sound all that convincing, probably since he had temporarily lost that particular ability.
I looked at Winnie. “Mrs. Conrad?” I called, sounding sweet as sugar. “Do you have anything to say?”
Winnie’s eyes were on Jeremiah but she answered me. “I think you covered it.”
There you go.
Time to move on.
I turned in Luke’s arm and lifted my eyes to his. “I’m guessing you’re not coming to dinner with the Moms.”
Luke just stared at me like I’d broken into a tap dance while singing “Mr. Bo Jangles”.
“All righty then,” I declared. “Don’t worry about getting blood on your clothes. I’m really good at stain removal.”
I leaned into him, hand at his chest, and gave him a quick lip touch. Then I pulled out of his arm but lifted my hand to wipe the lip gloss off his mouth with my thumb.
“Don’t be too late,” I whispered and I watched one side of his mouth go up in a half-grin.
Then all business, I turned to Mrs. Conrad and grabbed her wheel chair.
“Welp, better go. We don’t want to be around when Luke’s meting out gonzo retribution. It might get messy and this is a new dress. Do you want to go to dinner with my family and Luke’s Mom? My treat,” I asked conversationally as I wheeled Mrs. Conrad out of the room.
“That would be lovely. Would be a shame, we both got all dressed up but had nowhere to go,” Mrs. Conrad replied cool as could be, as if we were wheeling through a park, not
exiting what amounted to a cell.
“We’re having steaks,” I told her. “You like steak?”
“Girl, I love steak. Who doesn’t like steak?”
“I like steak,” I agreed.
We passed a smiling Monty. We stopped outside the room and I turned to look in. Hector was already moving toward Jeremiah. Vance was watching me and he was wearing a very attractive shit-eating grin. My eyes slid to Luke, his were on me and my heart stuttered when I watched, fascinated, as he winked.
Then I shut the door.
* * * * *
“I’m Ava Barlow. I’m staying with Lucas Stark. Can I have my room key, please?” I asked the reception clerk at Hotel Monaco.
He tapped on his computer, something came up and he read it, smiled at me and gave me my key card telling me the room number. I took it with a return smile and headed to the elevators.
Dinner had been a blast. Marilyn and Sofia had opted out (still pouting). Olivia, Shirleen and Winnie had opted in and Sissy met us there with the Moms. We ate, moved the festivities to the Cruise Room meeting Indy and Jules. We drank martinis (of course Jules didn’t drink martinis seeing as she was preggers), enough to get loose, not enough to get drunk and Shirleen dropped me off at the hotel.
I exited the elevators, found the room and let myself in with the card.
The room was dimly lit with one lamp. Luke was in bed, on his back, hands behind his head, chest bare, covers to his waist, looking Zen.
“Hey,” I said, throwing my purse in a chair.
“Come here,” he replied softly and my knees got week.
I told my knees to behave and asked, “How’s Jeremiah?”
“Incarcerated,” he informed me. “Hank got an anonymous tip, sent a car out. Uniforms picked him up, took him to the hospital to stitch him up and now he’s behind bars. Winnie needs to go in tomorrow to press charges,” his voice dropped low and he continued. “Now, come here.”
I took in a deep breath, let it out and walked to the bed.
When I made it to the side, Luke’s hands came from behind his head, he did an ab curl, caught my waist and pulled me down on top of him.
When we had settled, his fingers sifted into the hair at the side of my head and slid back, taking the weight with it and holding it behind my head.
“I like your hair like this,” he murmured.
“Indy did it,” I shared.
His eyes came to mine. “We got plans tonight, you and me.”
“I already had dinner with the Moms.”
He gave me a half-grin. “I wasn’t talking about those plans.”
I knew he wasn’t.
Shit!
“Babe, move your foot, your shoe is about to pierce the skin on my shin.”
Shit again!
I moved my foot and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Take ‘em off,” he ordered.
“I can’t, the straps are too complicated. I have to wear them to bed then I have to wear them until they fall apart. I’ll never –”
He flipped me on my back then his hand slid down my side, my leg to my ankle. Within thirty seconds he had both shoes off.
“How did you do that?” I asked, eyes wide, thinking the wonders of Luke would never cease.
He didn’t answer, his fingers found the zip at the side of my dress and tugged it down.
“Luke, I want to hear about Jeremiah,” I told him.
Zipper down, he slid the dress up, up and then it was off. He tossed it aside, lifted up on his elbow and his head bent to look at me. One of his hands came back to my body, gliding across the bustier at my midriff.
“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes ink, face soft.
Okay, suffice it to say, he liked the underwear.
“Luke!” I cried. “Focus!”
His gaze moved to my face, he looked part amused, part impatient and part sexy as hell.
“We got him to talk,” he told me.
This didn’t surprise me.
“Do I have to get my stain removal gloves out?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not a big fan of mess, babe.”
Thank God for that.
He kept talking. “Jeremiah, real name Kurt Reid. He’s been partners with Walt Ellis for five years. Worked Nevada with him then Colorado. Their shit is linked. So much, Brody got the intel mixed up. Brody’s also got a meeting tomorrow with Lee, eight o’clock.”
I had a brief moment to feel sorry for the unknown Brody before Luke went on.
“Sometimes they would do the con together, sometimes they hit different marks. With you and Winnie, they hit different marks. He knew all about you, Ellis or Dexter, knew all about Winnie. They also have a safe house in Durango. Reid says Ellis is there. Hector and Vance are on the road tonight checking it out.”
“So it’s close to over.”
“Babe, for you, it is over.”
I was cool with that. I probably had only one knee to the ‘nads in me for this lifetime and I’d given it to Kurt Reid.
I was cool with that too. Kurt Reid was a jerk.
“Okay,” I said to Luke.
He smiled at me. My stomach got melty.
Then he moved, my panties were gone in the blink of an eye, he rolled, taking me with him and before I knew it he was seated on the side of the bed with me straddling his lap.
Ho-ly shit.
“Luke, we need to talk about a few things,” I tried to stall.
His head bent and his lips traced the lace above my breast. “No talking,” he said there, not feeling in the mood for me to stall and, truth be told, I was even beginning to lose the mood.
I stuck with it. “We have to talk. There’s lots to talk about.”
His head dropped back and his hands went to my hips, he lifted me up, shifted my hips forward and when he set me down again, he was inside me.
Wow.
Nice.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked as his hand slid down my arm, fingers curling around my wrist, he brought my hand between us and pressed it in so my fingers hit the target.
Ultra nice.
“Ava.”
“What?”
“You wanted to talk.”
I did? Shit, I did.
His fingers moved my fingers until my fingers took over. Then his hand moved to my ass, the other one slid up my back and his neck bent, lips hitting the skin above the lace again while his ‘tache tickled it.
“Um –” I mumbled then moved, sliding slightly up and down, as my fingers rolled.
This was hot.
Ava, focus, Good Ava admonished.
Yeah, focus. Focus on how hot this is. Yum-mee, Bad Ava cooed.
Yikes!
I had recruited the Rock Chicks for this operation and they had worked so hard on it I had to see it through. If I didn’t they might throw me out of the club.
So I persisted. “I just wanted to tell you, I like my house, I like my Range Rover and I don’t think you should go to Vito’s family meeting.”
His head dropped back again and he looked at me. His hand at my spine slid around and cupped my breast, thumb sliding across my nipple over the lace and that felt so good I made a little sound in my throat.
Between his thumb, my fingers and his hard boy part, I was quickly losing the will to manipulate macho man Luke into doing what I wanted.
He started talking. “We’ll stay at your house while the blinds are being put up. Once the blinds are up, we’ll try the loft for awhile. We’ll see how it goes and we’ll decide. Work for you?”
I moved up and down, not slightly this time, but more.
Then I ground into him and breathed, “Okay.”
“The Range Rover’s gotta go, babe. It’s not safe.” His voice was growing rough.
“I like my car.” My voice was still breathy.
“We’ll get you another car. I’m thinkin’ Mustang.”
I liked Mustangs. Mustangs were super-fly.
“Okay,” I repeated.
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