A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

Spencer slowly pushed away from the table and stood. Without a word, he walked away with Chris.

  Holy cow. Ice could have formed in his wake. He left behind so much tension, the air crackled. Talk about awkward…

  She might have felt more uncomfortable, but damn it, instead she felt guilty.

  The urge to go after him left her fidgeting in her seat. Even if she did, what would she say? I’m sorry you don’t want to keep me around for the long haul? She snorted and didn’t even care that the others gave her funny looks. She knew zilch about this relationship crap, what was the right thing and the wrong thing to do.

  And damn it, she had few choices now. Given that she’d meet with Quin tomorrow, what could she say that’d make a difference anyway?

  Dare stepped away from the patio table. “I’ll go with you.”

  Not understanding, Arizona glanced back at him, then did a double take at his expression. Molly beamed with pleasure, confusing her more. “Go where?”

  “Head to head.” All business now, he beckoned her from her seat. “Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Trace sat back with a smile. “I have to admit, I’m curious.”

  Jackson groaned.

  Arizona couldn’t believe her luck. Dare Macintosh wanted to spar with her? No way. “Do you mean…?” She waved a hand between them. “Me and you? Seriously?”

  He gave a sharp nod. “Let’s grapple.”

  Despite the circumstances, anticipation bubbled up. But she didn’t trust the offer. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  Trace sided with Dare. “All things considered, Arizona, you need to know how to fight.”

  She didn’t point out that she already knew how to fight. “What things?”

  “Being around us,” he said. “Working with Jackson.”

  And Dare added, “Poking your little nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Now that she couldn’t let pass. “Who says it doesn’t belong?” She had as much right as they did, maybe more, to work at bringing down traffickers.

  Jackson opened his mouth, but Dare interrupted whatever he planned to say. “Are we sparring or not?”

  Her heart beat rapidly. “Oh, definitely, we are.” She left her seat and strode toward him.

  “You mind the others watching?”

  “In most bar fights, there’s a crowd.” She shrugged. “I’ve never let an audience get in my way.”

  “Oh, my God,” Priss said. “You actually fight in bars?”

  “I keep my knife on me,” Arizona explained. “It’s a great equalizer.”

  The men said nothing, but the women couldn’t hide their disbelief—probably disapproval, too. Not that she gave a flip.

  Only…she kind of did.

  No, screw that. She shook out her arms and took a stance across from him.

  “Now that I know you like knives…” Dare picked up a sturdy twig about as thick around as his index finger. He broke it until it was close to ten inches long. “We’ll pretend this is your favorite blade.” He flipped it over once and then held it out to her.

  A stick? Okay, she’d play along. After tossing it from hand to hand, Arizona worked her fingers around it until it felt right. She nodded.

  “Try not to poke out my eye, okay?”

  Satisfaction filled her smile. “Don’t worry,” she taunted him. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Dare didn’t take the bait, but then she already knew he had a cool, controlled temperament.

  They stood in the yard. It wasn’t flat but instead sloped down gently toward the lake. No problem; real fights seldom occurred under ideal situations. Dare adjusted for the terrain, so she would, too.

  She felt the sun on the top of her head and bare shoulders, but it didn’t blind her.

  She felt the rapt stares of the others and dismissed them from her mind.

  Drawing a calming breath, she braced her feet. “Ready when you are.”

  Probably hoping to startle her, Dare lunged forward in a head-on attack. Reacting automatically, Arizona released the twig with the same deadly accuracy she utilized with her knife. Like an arrow, it struck Dare solidly in the chest—right where his heart would be.

  Stunned, he stopped in his tracks.

  Smug, vindicated, Arizona whispered, “Gotcha.” Maybe now he’d take her seriously.

  Trace barked a laugh. “Not bad, Arizona.” He sat forward. “But if that wasn’t a killing blow—and it rarely is, at least not right away and not against a guy like Dare—then you’re in trouble, because now you’ve lost your weapon.”

  Oh, well…yeah, maybe.

  Trace nodded at her. “Try again.”

  Expression enigmatic, Dare handed her the makeshift knife and resumed his stance. “Ready?”

  She set her feet apart and rolled her shoulders to loosen them. “Yup.”

  This time, the second he moved, she dashed in, ducked under his arm and used the side of the twig to simulate a slash across his crotch. She rolled out of the way.

  She felt pretty good about her speed, until she came up and found Dare right behind her, saying, “I might be bleeding out, but now I’m really pissed, too.” Effortlessly, he contained her in a choke hold. “And then we’d die together.”

  He didn’t hurt her, but no way could she get out of his hold, either.

  Near her ear, he asked, “What would you do now?”

  Still held tight, she said, “Normally I’d stomp an instep, or deliver a head butt. Or even just drop my weight so you had to readjust your grip. But you’ve already taken away those options.”

  “True enough.”

  “I guess I’d just bide my time and wait for an opening.” She tipped her head around to smile at him. “Everyone slips up eventually.”

  “Maybe.” Dare released her. “Unless I snapped your neck without missing a beat.” He smoothed down her mussed hair, then lifted her chin. “And that’s the thing, Arizona. You never know how trained someone might be. Most idiots in bars are without skill. But not always. It’s not something you can take for granted.”

  Feeling her blood sing through her veins, Arizona grinned. “Okay, so school me.” She shook out her limbs. “I’m all ears.”

  Trace laughed again. “You’re all something—not sure ears are the right description.”

  Over the next few minutes, as she and Dare tried several different moves together, she was almost able to put aside her conflict with Spencer.

  But not quite.

  Where was he now? What was he doing?

  Was he so angry that he’d avoid her the rest of their trip?

  Like hell. She wouldn’t let him brood. If he wanted to argue, fine, she’d argue. But she wouldn’t—

  She grunted when Dare caught her unawares and tripped her to her back. She bounded right back, jerked to the side and kicked him in his sexy butt.

  The women started cheering; it was Arizona they wanted to see come out ahead.

  They booed Dare when he again took her legs out from under her, even though he brought her down easy to the grass. “You’re distracted,” he scolded. “And that could cost you your life.”

  They hooted and hollered when she rapidly squirreled around and locked her arms tight over Dare’s throat. “Not that distracted,” she said as she used her knees in his back for leverage.

  Dare laughed. “You are fast.”

  “Cry uncle?” she asked outrageously, just to egg on the women.

  “I don’t think so.” Dare flipped her over his shoulder and tossed her high into the air, making her squawk loudly in surprise.

  Trace roared with hilarity even as Dare caught her again, and the women joined in.r />
  Jackson came to stand over her. “You said something about crying uncle, Arizona?”

  Exhilarated and gasping for breath, she shouted, “Never!”

  Sargie and Tai wanted in on the game. The big dogs started bounding around them to the point that Grim the cat hissed and ran off, and even Liger turned up his nose and moved a safer distance away.

  On her back, grass in her hair and the sun in her eyes, Arizona fended off the dogs and laughed till her sides hurt. It was so much fun. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d…played.

  Maybe she never had.

  Shaking his head, Dare threw more grass at her while Tai and Sargie both tried to get in his lap. “I’ll concede that you have some skill, brat.”

  “And just think.” Wearing a proud grin, Jackson stood over her, his hands on his hips. “If you lived close, I could work with you until you’re good.”

  Ha! She looked up at him. “I’m already good.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” His grin widened. “For a girl.”

  Grabbing his ankle, Arizona jerked him off balance, and he ended up on his butt beside her. For a second, he sat in stunned silence while Trace and Dare chuckled and the women heckled him.

  Then Jackson’s eyes narrowed with wicked intent. “Paybacks are hell, honey.”

  Uh-oh! Snickering, Arizona shot to her feet, but she didn’t get far. She squealed again as Jackson easily brought her to the ground, but instead of grappling, he…tickled her.

  Until that moment, she hadn’t realized she was so incredibly ticklish. She laughed and struggled, kicked and punched, and did her best to get away.

  She was no match for Jackson.

  He caught her wrists and pinned them down. “Cry uncle,” he insisted with unrelenting good humor.

  “No, never!” Around her laughter, she said, “I’ll get you somehow. I’ll—”

  Jackson contained both her wrists in one big hand. He half loomed over her, using one leg to trap hers in place.

  Too late, Arizona realized her precarious position.

  The laughter died; her heart started a mad drumming and her lungs compressed.

  But no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get free of him.

  * * *

  LAUGHING SHRIEKS INTERRUPTED Chris’s efforts to distract Spencer by waxing on about the in-depth program. Not that he’d been able to concentrate much anyway. It had been clear to Spencer that the entire birthday celebration was difficult for Arizona, so he’d tried not to take her cutting remarks to heart.

  But damn it, was she serious?

  Send her to another man? Hell, no, he didn’t want to do that. Ever. The idea of her with someone else ate him up inside.

  Long before he’d made love with her, he’d fought that internal battle over doing the right thing or being selfish.

  “Is someone skinning the cats?” Grinning, Chris headed for the back door.

  “That was Arizona.” Frowning, Spencer followed. He’d recognize Arizona’s voice anywhere, but shrieking? That was so unlike her. “Something’s wrong.”

  “They’re probably just playing.”

  Spencer hastened his step. He had hoped that eventually Arizona would realize how these people cared about her.

  But he hadn’t expected it to happen today.

  He drew up short at what he found.

  He’d been inside less than twenty minutes—and somehow, in his absence, she’d ended up on the ground with Dare and Jackson both.

  He’d heard her laughter…so why did he feel so uneasy now?

  Chris, still holding a stack of printouts from the computer program, grinned when he saw the antics in the yard. “We’re missing all the fun.”

  Spencer didn’t return the grin. The closer he got, the tighter his tension grew.

  Finally, as Dare stood, Spencer got a good look at Jackson straddling Arizona’s hips. Her hair was now more out of the rubber band than in it. With one hand Jackson kept her arms over her head, and with the other he attempted to tickle her bare midriff while she twisted and turned.

  Even more than that, Spencer saw her face. Pale, drawn. She fought silently, trying to free herself without giving away her terror at being under a man.

  An anomalous emotion, blistering hot and explosive, coursed through Spencer. “Get the hell off her!”

  “Whoa, subtle, dude,” Chris told him. “Real subtle.”

  Not giving a damn what anyone thought, Spencer reached her in three long strides. Catching Jackson by the upper arm, he literally hauled him up and away from Arizona, freeing her from his hold.

  In an instant, she was on her feet, sucking in much-needed air, still shaky but, again, trying her utmost to conceal it.

  She kept one fist pressed to her stomach, the other stiff at her side.

  Heaving beside her, Spencer marveled at her strength, her pride. He fought the urge to grab her close—and the urge to flatten Jackson. He wanted to hug her, to shield her against his body.

  Everyone now stood around them, watchful, their gazes ripe with sudden understanding, concern and…sympathy.

  Fuck.

  Arizona would hate that. She’d rather suffer through the terror than have anyone look at her in pity. Any second now someone would reach out to her.

  She looked as if she’d fracture if that happened.

  As a distraction, Spencer turned to Jackson and crowded close to ask hotly, “Are you out of your mind?”

  Slowly, his every movement precise, Jackson straightened to his full height, which remained a few inches short of Spencer’s near six and a half feet. His expression darkened, but he looked beyond Spencer to Arizona and then back again.

  Spencer held his gaze, willing him to understand. Praying that he would.

  And he did.

  Though still edgy, Jackson pulled it together. “She’s good,” he quipped in a tone that was almost congenial. “Against an average guy, she just might hold her own.”

  Relief rolled through Spencer. He dragged in a breath, and nodded. To maintain his own role, he said, “If she stays out of trouble, she doesn’t need to hold her own.”

  “No guarantee that she’ll do that.”

  “Not with her skill set,” Dare added, doing his part to ease the situation. “She lacks strength, but she makes up for it with speed.”

  “And daring,” Trace added. “If what she showed us just now was accurate to how she’d be in a real battle, then she’s not a cautious fighter. That’s both good and bad.”

  Arizona pushed back her hair—and took a firm step forward. “I’m standing right here, you guys.” Only a faint trembling gave away her lack of composure.

  “What Chris said makes sense. She’s going to be around danger. It’s in her nature. You know that.”

  “What did Chris say?” she asked, but no one gave her an answer.

  In that moment, Spencer’s respect for each of the men doubled. They were ruthless when need be, but they were also kind and caring. “There’s danger, and then there’s danger.” Without looking at her, Spencer reached for her hand and tugged her into his side.

  And she let him.

  “You said it yourself, she lacks the strength to go toe to toe with a psychopath.”

  “It’s my decision, Spence.” She looked up at him. “Not yours.”

  “Actually it’s theirs.” He nodded at the men—and prayed they’d find a way to let her down gently. What she’d just gone through proved she wasn’t ready, emotionally or physically, to run the risk of getting caught again. “And they don’t look like dummies to me.”

  Jackson said, “Don’t push your luck.” His smile was mean.

  Trace shouldered Jackson aside and spoke to Dare. “Now m
ight be a good time to ask him.”

  Spencer smoothed his thumb over Arizona’s chilled knuckles. “Ask me what?”

  “If you’ll join us.”

  Proving he wasn’t really pissed at all, Jackson nearly felled him with a whack on the back. “The pay is a shitload better than what you’re used to, man. And you get to exercise your alpha dog.” He winked. “A real win-win.”

  Well, hell, Spencer thought. He hadn’t seen that one coming.

  He looked down at Arizona and found her beaming—with pride. Huh.

  No jealously. No resentment.

  Never the expected from her—because she rose above the expected, over and over again.

  Incredible.

  He’d think about her astounding acceptance later, but for now, she’d been distracted from her fear, and that was what mattered most.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  NEEDING A FEW MINUTES, Arizona excused herself and went inside. In the bathroom, she splashed her face, straightened her ponytail, put a little more makeup over the bruise on her jaw.

  And she took time to breathe.

  But honestly, excitement for Spencer overshadowed everything else.

  They wanted him to sign on.

  Damn, she was soooo proud of him. She couldn’t imagine a bigger compliment or a better testament to Spencer’s ability and his honor. They trusted him, and that meant so much.

  And if he worked with the guys, then maybe she could convince him to partner up with her. Yeah, he wanted to cut their time short, she knew that. She hadn’t forgotten his motives or what he’d told her from the get-go.

  But now she had a good excuse to try to talk him around.

  She now had hope—and wow, hope was a scary thing.

  On her way back out, she heard the women talking in the kitchen, laughing and chatting so amicably. At least they weren’t gossiping about her—yet. If she got the opportunity to stick around long enough, though, she knew they would.

  She pasted on a smile and stepped into the room.

  Priss immediately asked, “Did you bring a suit? We’re getting ready to go down to the lake.”

  “Yeah, it’s under my clothes.” And with any luck, it’d stay there.