Outside the Lines

by Lisa Desrochers

I watch as she throws a white sheet over the sofa. The pang in my chest intensifies. I wish she had stayed home. Everything would have been different.

  I move to Lee at the counter, pull her into a hug. We’ve talked about the Savocas, and I know she’s been obsessing over them.

  She doesn’t need to worry anymore.

  When I drop my client at the airport tomorrow afternoon, I’m on a plane to Chicago. Taking care of Oliver Savoca will be my first order of business, even if I have to pull the trigger myself. The only way I can fix this family is to bring them home, so that’s what I’m going to do, even if it means taking down the entire Savoca family myself.

  Even if it means dying.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say low in Lee’s ear. When I draw away, she’s looking at me like I have two heads.

  “What was that?”

  We used to be so close, and now I can’t even hug her without her knowing something’s wrong. I loathe myself a little more for being such a shitty person. “The kids are luckier than they’ll ever know to have you. You’re amazing, Lee. I should have told you that a long time ago.”

  My eyes sweep over the place one last time. With the sheets over the living room furniture, it looks almost how it did when we first arrived. My chest tightens when it occurs to me I could have been happy here if I were the person Adri wanted me to be.

  I give Ulie’s shoulder a squeeze, then push through the door.

  Sherm and Grant are on the porch. Burn is lying at Sherm’s feet. Since Sherm coaxed him out of the box that first morning, he’s never been far away. He sits and his ears prick when I step onto the porch, Sherm’s ready protector.

  Grant is pretending to arm wrestle Sherm’s casted arm. Sherm is talking a mile a minute about something they saw on the boat. The instant he sees me, he stops. Over the last few weeks, the terror in his gaze has slowly given way to indifference. Grant has taken my place in Sherm’s life. He doesn’t need or want me anymore.

  “Hey,” I say, trying to ignore the knife slicing through my gut. “I’ve got to take off for a while. I need you guys to keep everything together around here.”

  “Bye,” Sherm says, then turns back to Grant.

  Grant’s eyes widen and lift to me, not missing the significance. It’s Sherm’s first word directly to me since we left Chicago. Sherm takes his hand and starts arm wrestling again.

  A ball of emotion forms in my throat as I stride off the porch. I drop my stuff into the back of the Lumina and tear out of the driveway.

  When I pull into Spencer Security, David is waiting by the stretch Town Car. There are seven other Spencer drivers. I was hoping I’d never see him again after my little escapade in the Escalade. No such luck.

  “Your assignment folder is on the dash,” he says, lowering himself into the driver’s seat. “You can change on the way.”

  I climb in back. He pulls out of the warehouse.

  “Did you give it to that little strumpet you were talking to weekend before last?”

  I unzip the garment bag and hang my suit on a hook. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

  “You made it my business when you sexed her up in my limo,” he says with a glance in the rearview mirror.

  I ignore him and strip. It’s only when I unbutton my jeans that I remember I never put on any underwear after getting out of the shower this afternoon. I dig through my duffel for a pair.

  He whistles through his teeth. “No wonder you’ve got the ladies lining up.”

  I glare his direction when I find him looking in the rearview at my junk and put up the partition. “Pervert.”

  I decide to stay in back even after I’m dressed because I don’t feel like dealing with David grilling me about Adri. I took this assignment to forget about her … which reminds me that the folder is up front.

  I guess it will be a surprise. Elaine said we were picking this chick up at the airport, so I should have some time to get a look at the file before whatever her gig is.

  An hour later, we’re parked at the airport. David has a smoke then heads in to meet our client at the baggage claim.

  I slide into the passenger seat, pull the folder off the dash, and freeze when the name of our client jumps off the page.

  Sophie King. My goddamn ex. The universe is fucking shitting on me today.

  I bound out of the car and storm toward the terminal to grab David and tell him I can’t do this job … and run smack into the luggage cart David is pushing as they make their way out the door.

  Sophie looks as beautiful as ever. Her skin is peaches and cream, and her eyes are stunning green. She looks like a classic thirties movie star, Ingrid Bergman or Greta Garbo, in a retro dress with her long auburn waves trained into a loose chignon.

  “Miss King, this is your bodyguard, Robert,” David says.

  I lower my face, turn my back to them before she looks up.

  “Hello, Robert,” she says. I know they’re all waiting for me to answer her.

  I take a deep breath, turn slowly and watch her face go from a pleasant smile to dropped-jaw shock.

  “Robby?”

  “Hello, Sophie. It’s been a while.”

  “Oh my God! It’s really you!” she chirps and launches into my arms. “Oh my God,” she says lower in my ear. “This is unbelievable. You’re supposed to be somewhere in Europe. What are you doing here?”

  “At the moment, being your bodyguard.”

  She tips her head and looks at me funny. When she opens her mouth to say something, I flash a glance at David, and I give her a subtle shake of my head.

  “You two know each other?” David asks with unhealthy curiosity in his beady eyes.

  “Your bodyguard broke my heart,” Sophie says, releasing me from her clutch and looping an arm through my elbow.

  He whistles through his teeth again. “Lining up,” he says under his breath as he turns and pushes the luggage cart toward the limo.

  I stick to protocol and ride up front with David, but before Sophie ducks into the back, I press a finger to my lips and mouth, “We’ll talk later.”

  She nods and slips inside.

  At the hotel, I escort her up to our suite. I dump my garment bag and duffel in the smaller of the two bedrooms.

  “What happened to you?” she asks after the bellman drops her luggage and leaves. “The story in the news was that there was a shooting and you and your family fled the country. Figured you’d be living large in Greece or something.”

  I shrug. She wants to think my siblings are in Greece, the better for me. “I came back.”

  She throws a disbelieving glance at our surroundings. “So you could be a bodyguard in Tampa?”

  I keep my expression flat. “It’s a long story. But no one can know, Sophie.”

  She smiles, lifts her perfectly plucked red eyebrows. “I’m intrigued.”

  “Don’t be. It’s just a detour. I’m heading back to Chicago tomorrow.”

  She looks at me a moment longer and then turns for her bedroom. “I’ll be ready in a half hour.” She spins back to me at the doors. “And when we get back, I’ll have all the time in the world to hear that long story.”

  I watch her pull the sliding doors to her room closed, then sink into the sofa in the sitting room. How the hell did this happen?

  I think about calling the DOJ, telling them to get my family the hell out of Florida, but I’m going back to Chicago, and Sophie doesn’t even know the rest of them are here. In forty-eight hours, Oliver Savoca will be dead and Chicago will be ours again.

  It will all be over.

  *

  Sophie has an evening speech at a local college, where she’s mobbed by adoring students and faculty alike. She decides on the way back that she’s tired. “Room service and a long, hot shower sounds like the best idea I’ve had all day.”

  David brings us back to the hotel. When we get to the suite, she calls in a room service order that’s basically one of everything on the menu. She opens the co
urtesy bar and pulls out a bottle of red wine. “Will you do the honors?” she asks, handing it to me. “I’m going to shower and change.”

  I take the bottle. She disappears through her bedroom door. I hear the water start in the shower and think about changing out of my monkey suit, but decide against it. Best to keep this professional. I tug loose my tie and kick off my shoes and socks, though.

  Half an hour later, there’s a knock on the door. I let the waiter in and he arranges everything on the small dining room table.

  “Oh my God, that smells good,” Sophie says as she throws open her doors and sweeps into the sitting room in a pair of jeans and a vintage Van Halen T-shirt with nothing underneath. She’s barefoot and her damp red hair is loose down her back. She slides into a seat in front of the feast. “I’m starving.”

  I tip the waiter and show him out, then come back to the table.

  She looks at the open wine bottle and the glass I’ve poured for her. “I’m drinking alone?”

  “Can’t,” I tell her with a nod at the glass. “It’s in my employment contract.”

  She slips me a devious smile and pours a second glass, holding it out to me. “I’m not going to report you, Robby. Sit and tell me how one of the richest men in Chicago ended up my bodyguard in Tampa.”

  I take the glass, sit across from her.

  “And take whatever looks good to you,” she adds with a nod at the table.

  I tug the plate with a bacon wrapped filet mignon and baked potato toward me.

  “I knew you’d pick that or the lasagna. I ordered them for you,” she says with a smile.

  I hack off a hunk of beef and cram it in my mouth, surprised at how hungry I am. Then I realize I haven’t eaten anything since the breakfast I picked at before Adri came over. “I saw that Oliver Savoca took you to your premiere after we split.”

  She gives me a sly look out from under long lashes. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Not really.” I’m just preparing myself for what comes next—a bloodbath in the streets of Chicago.

  “He was just a placeholder.” She leans back and twirls a finger into the damp ends of her hair. “He looked good on my arm, but he was way too serious. Everything he did felt like part of some bigger strategy, you know?”

  I’m sure she wasn’t imagining that. Oliver is as ruthless as any of us, but he’s known for his cunning and caution. I’d never say it to Sophie’s face, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility he was only with her because he thought she might have useful information about me. Fucking information out of women is one of his wider-known tactics. The guy’s a douche. “Where does he like to hang out?”

  She shrugs. “He likes Giovanni’s for dinner, and Trip for clubbing.” She tucks a leg under her and pulls a plate with a massive hamburger and fries in front of herself. She takes three enormous bites of the burger, then pours some catsup on her plate and dips a fry. “So, now you know the sorry state of my love life. Is there anyone special in yours?”

  I keep eating, intending to ignore her question. That’s all the answer she needs.

  Her eyebrows lift. “Who is she? Anyone I know?”

  I can’t stop myself from laughing out loud. “Definitely no.”

  “So she’s someone you met on the job?” she asks with a wave at my suit.

  I take another bite of steak. “What is this, twenty questions?”

  She tilts her head at me. “I want to know what kind of woman it takes to twist the unflappable Robby Delgado’s heart into a knot.”

  I look at her a long second and decide there’s no harm in telling her. “She’s a schoolteacher.”

  She quirks a sardonic half smile. “Do you like to play school, Robby? Does she spank you?”

  “Subject’s closed.” I knock back the wine and polish off my steak, even though I’ve lost my appetite.

  “Fine, so answer my other question.” She rests an elbow on the table and props her cheek in her hand. “Tell me how this happened.”

  I lean back, take a deep breath. “I needed a little time to regroup after things went bad in Chicago. But I’m going back.”

  Everyone knows the Delgado empire was paid for in blood. I’m pretty sure that’s part of the lure for most women. I’m a real-life bad boy. But, like most people, Sophie has no idea how deep that river of blood runs.

  Her expression takes a sudden shift from cynical to concerned. “Everything’s … okay?”

  I nod. “It will be.”

  She picks my hand up off the table and holds it. Her skin is warm and soft and does absolutely nothing for me. “I always worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  She pushes out of her seat, moves around the table, stops next to my chair. Her fingers brush down the side of my face, and her hair sweeps over me just before the drops a kiss on my cheekbone. “I still worry about you,” she whispers in my ear.

  I stand and pace to the window.

  She comes up behind me and hooks her fingers into the lapels of my suit jacket. I let her slide it off my shoulders. “I think you should join me in my room tonight.”

  I close my eyes, and my jaw tightens.

  “We were good together, Robby. No one else has ever done to me the things you did. I miss you.”

  I pull a breath to steel my nerves. “I can’t.”

  Her hands brush over me as she circles and stops right in front of me, forcing me to see her. Her fingertip traces the lines of my face. “I just want you tonight. I’m not asking for forever.”

  I don’t stop her as she pulls off my tie and unbuckles my shoulder holster, dropping my Glock onto the armchair. She unbuttons my shirt and pulls her T-shirt over her head.

  There’s a reason she’s a movie star; she’s all woman. She’s long and lean with full round breasts and tight red nipples that are just begging to be sucked. She presses against me, and her hand finds my package. “You’re the best I’ve ever had, Robby,” she purrs.

  Adri’s taste, her scent, how it felt to be inside of her flood my senses. I close my eyes and feel her against me, the only woman I’ll ever want—the woman who ruined me for all others.

  Sophie’s lips brush over my pecs, and her tongue flicks my nipple as she slides my shirt off my shoulders. Against my will, my cock responds. I tip my head back as she unbuckles my belt and works the fly of my slacks, pressing her hand against my growing hard-on. She takes her time kissing lower, down my abs, until she’s on her knees in front of me.

  I look down, see blond waves loose over ivory shoulders. I stiffen for her.

  She tugs at the waistband of my underwear. “I’m going to show this bad boy how much I’ve missed him.”

  I grasp handfuls of her silky hair. Her gaze lifts to mine, and everything comes into focus. Auburn hair, not blond. Green eyes, not blue.

  The cyclone inside me rips its way out in a growl. The next second I’m across the room. I twist the top off the Tanqueray with a shaking hand and take a long swig directly from the bottle. The burn is real, something I can grasp onto, and it helps calm the storm. I set the bottle down and turn to face her. “I said I can’t.”

  Her eyes flick to my cock and she trails her fingertips along the curve of her breast. “Your body says different, Robby.”

  I take another swig of gin and set the bottle down. “Go to bed, Sophie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Her expression becomes wounded. “You’re not the same guy.”

  She’s right. I never would have turned down a good fuck back in Chicago. My heart kicks in my chest when it hits me why I’m turning it down now. “I fell in love.”

  She moves closer and her expression softens, her green eyes piercing mine. “I was in love once.” My jaw tightens as she lifts a hand and strokes a finger down my chest. She moves past me, looks over her shoulder at me when she reaches her bedroom door. “I won’t tell anyone where you are. Despite what you might think, I’m glad you’re okay. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.” />
  Then she’s gone.

  *

  Sophie has a late-morning interview at a Tampa news station. We barely talk in the suite or in the car. When David drops her at the airport, she stretches up onto her tiptoes, and her lips brush my cheek on the way to my ear.

  “Be safe,” she whispers.

  I stand in the terminal after she clears security, staring at the flight schedule. There are two flights to Chicago leaving in the next ninety minutes.

  “Let’s blow this clambake,” David says, heading for the door.

  “Go ahead without me,” I tell him, deciding on the three o’clock flight.

  “What?” he asks with a bemused grin. “You’re going to walk back?”

  “I’ve got somewhere to be.” I turn for the ticket counter.

  “And where the fuck is that?” he yells after me.

  I ignore him and step up to the desk. The ticket agent grimaces when she tells me there are only first-class seats available. I buy my ticket and check my duffel. David’s still there when I pass by on the way to security.

  “Tell Elaine thanks for the shot,” I say, “but it just wasn’t my thing.”

  He squints at me in confusion. “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack,” I answer, already past him.

  “You’re one seriously fucked-up character,” he says to my back. “But if you stuck it to that actress last night, you’re smart to get your mangy ass out of Dodge before Elaine gets her hands on you.”

  I flip him off without turning around, then toss my phone into the trash on the way into security. With my Glock checked in my duffel, I’m through in no time. The PA is calling for final boarding of my flight just as I make the gate. I pull the cash from my wallet and toss the rest before boarding. I can’t risk anyone in Chicago being able to trace me back here.

  When I settle into my seat, the flight attendant comes by our row and takes an empty glass from the guy next to me. “We’re just getting ready to close the cabin doors for departure, but I’ll be back as soon as we’re in the air for your drink order.”

  I nod and she heads up front. She pulls the door closed, then picks up the phone on the wall and tells the passengers to power down their laptops.