Cody nodded. His uncle was master of the odd jobs and hadn’t even started learning how to be a mechanic until the middle of his life. He’d been a Navy officer first, wanting to see the world as most young men do when they are young and grew up in the middle of nowhere. When he’d come back, Uncle Gary had taken turns working at half the stores up and down Main Street. Never been fired, so far as Cody knew, just had a habit of wandering to the next thing. As far as Cody could tell, Gary Bannik could do just about anything and everything, and most of it fairly well.
Gary plucked the cigar from his mouth and shook his head. “Donna, though, I didn’t know her well. Rumor was that she was headin’ down the same path as her momma before she got fed up with it all and lit on up out of here.”
Another piece to the puzzle, Cody thought as he pumped some lava soap into his hands and gave them a good hard scrub. Bits and pieces of stone rubbed across his callused palms, working the layer of grease off in a pitch-colored lather. The cut on his finger stung as he did it, and the bleeding started all over again. There was a first-aid kit around here somewhere, he was sure. Besides, tending to himself gave him time to think.
It wasn’t just that Donna didn’t want to go back to being the wild girl that she had once been, he thought as he started pawing through one shelf after another. It was that she didn’t want to end up like her mother. It was the story of a hundred thousand other women, but when it came to Donna he couldn’t blame her. Elizabeth Mason was a pain in the ass.
“She’s watching over Kyle.” Cody took his foot off the pedal and let the faucet go dry as he wiped his hands off on a fairly clean towel. He reached for the first-aid kit, but his uncle slapped his hand away and tugged it off the shelf.
“I thought you were doing that,” Uncle Gary said as he opened the kit and pulled out one of the fingertip Band-Aids. He used his stogie to point toward one of the barstools they kept scattered around the shop for slow afternoons. Cody found himself smirking as he got his finger bandaged up like he was five years old again. Uncle Gary was a good man, and soft about helping Cody out.
“We’ve both got a vested interest.” Cody cleared his throat.
Uncle Gary’s good eye roamed over Cody in the wise fashion of older men. “She was pretty back then, if I remember correctly.”
“She’s hot stuff now. But she’s not interested in me.”
Uncle Cody laughed, and the sound boomed through the shop. “Is that what your problem is, nephew? You so used to women pawing all over you and throwing their titties in yo’ face that you don’t know what to do when a lady isn’t impressed?”
Cody felt his cheeks flush. “I can’t remember the last time a woman threw their tits in my face.”
“All right. Whatever you say. Go on, get out of here and bring me back an Italian sub when you wander on back.” Uncle Gary plopped his cigar back into his pocket with a wistful sigh and brushed his hand through the air as if clearing it of dust. “Go on, get.”
Cody gave his uncle a bemused salute and wandered out of the shop.
# # #
It was a nice day for Nevada. The sun, a relatively familiar sight around here, was high overhead, and it couldn’t have been more than seventy-two degrees. There was just enough cloud cover to keep it from getting too hot, but it didn’t look like there was going to be rain either. Rain, he thought, wouldn’t be a terrible thing, but it would be hard to walk around in.
There weren’t a great many shops down Main Street. The body shop took up one corner near the very end. The Deli, as it was creatively called, was all the way down at the other. There were a handful of other businesses in between: a fashion boutique, a salon, a dentist, and so on. Most of the places had been around for a while. Carson City was just small enough to have that close-knit feel that most other places didn’t have, but it was getting bigger and bigger every day. Some people hated it, but Cody? He liked to see the changes, the slipping from one thing into another. He watched as a real-estate agent showed a young couple into one of the empty storefronts. He found himself wondering what they might do. He liked to daydream; usually it calmed him. Not today. Today he felt a need to wander, so he did. Cody took the chance to stretch his legs and get Donna out of his mind.
It was her damn fault he kept messing things up at work. He kept finding his brain wandering toward her. Not just the way her breasts pushed up against her suit tops, or how she had looked in those silk pajama pants with wine soaking into them. He wasn’t even focused on the way she kissed… though good goddamn, that woman could lay down a kiss. It was more than that.
Donna Mason was a force of nature. She could look like a billion dollars while she wore a cheap dollar-store robe. He had watched her, during those nights he spent parked out in his old Chevy, as she wandered around the apartment. The sliding glass doors gave him an excellent view of the living area.
Sure, he probably should have asked if it was all right, but he’d known exactly what she would say.
Donna blamed him for Kyle going bad. Maybe Cody had a little to do with it, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was pulling Kyle along. Cody knew it was up to him to figure out what and how he could handle it.
That’s what the good guy did, right?
Was that what he was trying to be? A good guy? He just barely kept himself from snorting. He’d never thought of himself as anything but Cody. Not really good and not really bad. Sure, the law and him weren’t what you might call friends, but what did that really matter? He did what he had to do to keep himself going and tried not to screw up too bad. It wasn’t a terrible way to go about life.
His phone went off and Cody glanced down at the screen. Speak of the demon—it was Kyle.
My sister can’t cook, the message said. Please save me from another night of takeout.
Cody laughed out loud, causing several heads to turn in his general direction. Some of the looks said plainly that they didn’t think he had any right to laugh. One lady, her arms heavy with shopping bags, even crossed the street and shot him a full-on glower. He thought that was a bit dramatic. Sure, when he wasn’t running the shop he was an enforcer for the Wild Tigers. He even had the jacket to prove it. The title wasn’t half as impressive as it sounded. All it really meant was that, from time to time, their boss sent him out to bash some heads together. He didn’t sit in for meetings, he rarely went on gun runs, and he never made decisions for the club. He just got to play muscle when it was needed. The gun that he’d bought many ages ago was gathering dust in a safe back at his place.
Being a criminal wasn’t nearly as interesting as all the television shows made it out to be, especially when someone ran the club with the no BS standards that the boss did. It made Cody’s job easy enough that he had to work the auto shop to make ends meet.
Anyway, what did he care if people saw him as good or bad? It was not as if he was running for office or anything. No reason anyone would have to go through his closet and poke around for skeletons. He was just a man trying to live life.
Then he saw her, and he remembered exactly why he was beginning to care.
At first, he didn’t recognize Donna Mason sitting at one of the little glass-top tables the Deli used for patio seating. For one thing, she was wearing jeans, rather than one of her snappy business suits. For another her hair wasn’t styled or primped, or whatever it was they were calling it now. It simply sat around her face in a series of natural asymmetrical curls.
Her long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankle, showing off a pair of strappy shoes that left her feet playfully bare. Her toes wiggled just a little as she stared at her computer screen, her toenails as manicured as her fingers. He’d never understood the appeal of feet until that moment. For a woman who kept herself as covered up as Donna did, getting a little glimpse of her toes made him wonder what everything else looked like.
Though, if he was being honest, he’d been wondering about the “everything else” since day one.
For
a moment, she wasn’t aware of him. Her eyes were focused on her laptop. Her lower lip was seized between her teeth as she puzzled something out. He watched her as she read and reread a line on her screen, her eyes dancing back and forth. The perfectly plucked lines of her brows gathered together in frustration. Then her lips formed an O of understanding, and she clacked away on the keys with enough enthusiasm that he could hear her typing from halfway across the street.
She was so caught up in her work that she didn’t even notice him walking up. With her problem solved, she popped out of her chair and wandered into the Deli. Cody thought she was either very trusting or very distracted to leave her laptop sitting out here. Since trusting was not a word that he would use to describe Donna, he was going to have to settle for the latter. Then again, maybe she had the kind of money that she was okay throwing it out there for anyone to have.
He caught a glimpse of what glimmered on her screen as he walked by, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. If he had been pressed, Cody would have called it a spreadsheet—he used plenty of those at the body shop for ordering and business—but it was the most complex-looking spreadsheet that he had ever seen. Besides, what was on the computer wasn’t nearly as interesting to look at as the woman that owned it.
She was standing in line, her arms crossed over her chest. The sunlight was hitting her hair just right to bring out the red hue in it. When he stepped up behind her, he could smell the honey-and-lilac scent of some frilly shampoo. Of course she had expensive shampoo. She had expensive everything. He bet the jeans she wore were some exclusive brand that washed them in some factory to make them look worn.
She ordered the crab roll special and a coffee large enough to drown in.
“You know,” Cody said, stepping up next to her, “that much caffeine is bad for you.”
She jumped enough that she nearly dropped her wallet. Cody had a short moment to enjoy the way she scrambled to look like she wasn’t bothered as she fumbled for her credit card. It was as black and shiny as he assumed it would be. Her fingers shook as she handed it over to the cashier. It was interesting to see her so… frazzled. There was even a blush on her cheeks. Was he finally having an effect on her?
“You don’t want to be around me unless I’ve had about a gallon of it,” she fired back. It didn’t quite have the heat of her usual snappishness, and her lips were curled into a smile. Maybe the problem he had seen her solve had left her in good spirits. Maybe seeing him was putting her in good spirits.
“You’re in a good mood,” he said companionably.
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
He stepped closer to her, his arm brushing hers as he put in his own order for a steak-and-cheese sub, and an Italian to go.
It wasn’t until he handed over the cash for the order that he realized the girl behind the counter was smiling at him. It wasn’t the professional smile of a person who clocked in to wear an apron. It was the genuine grin of an interested woman. Her big brown eyes were sparkling hopefully.
“Hi, Cody,” she said, leaning over the counter. For a moment, Cody could remember his uncle talking about women throwing themselves at him. Was he that bad? Maybe.
If she knew his name it meant that he had seen her somewhere before. He gave her another long look, wondering what her bleached blonde hair would look like out of that ponytail and without the hat. After a moment, a memory surged to the forefront of his mind.
“Amber!” he said as the name popped back into his head. “Hey, how are you?”
She waved a hand. “Not bad. I’m only back in town for a few weeks before heading back East.” Her gaze was expectant.
He wracked his brain. She was a model, right? Or maybe she wanted to be a model. Cody couldn’t quite remember which it was. He knew that Amber never stuck around long and liked to be entertained while she was in town. She had the cutest butterfly tattoo on her back… and yet, for all that, he had absolutely no inclination to ask her out.
“That’s cool,” he said, taking his change and plunking a portion of it in the little tip container at the front of the counter. “Stay safe.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. For a second she looked dumbstruck. Then she gathered herself back together and leaned across the counter. He knew what she was doing—they both did. Usually this kind of thing worked for him. Aggressive women with simple needs, he had once said, were a godsend. “Oh, uhm… I am clocking out in like, three hours. Maybe I could swing by the pool hall later?”
He gave a nod. “That’d be cool. I’m sure Twitch or Hulk or someone would love to see you. I won’t be there, I’ve got a previous engagement. But it was nice to see you again.”
Amber looked shell-shocked, but not nearly as much as Donna did. The pretty redhead stared up at him like she hadn’t quite seen him before. He gave her a grin. Her jaw hung open for a few moments before snapping shut, and she turned away from him. It was easy to watch her walk away. He didn’t care how much those jeans had cost her, they were worth every little penny.
Did she know how pretty she was? Probably. A woman like Donna couldn’t look into the mirror and not know exactly what she looked like. Even in simple clothes, with her arms crossed she seemed to command the entire attention of the Deli. Or at the very least, the attention of Cody. She waited in silence for her order to come up before plucking it off the counter and heading back out to her table.
A minute later he plopped down next to her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, figuring she’d prefer the direct approach to beating around the bush.
“She wanted you to go out with her.” She dragged her pretty nails through her prettier hair, and he had the singular pleasure of watching it all fall back around her face. He found himself wondering if she looked better with it up or down. Down she looked softer, which was a lie. Very little about Donna Mason was soft. With it up, he had been able to see every bit of her face.
He laughed in amusement. “Ohh, I’m sure she wanted a whole lot more than that.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” She hadn’t touched her food. Instead she was watching him with those clever eyes.
He took a moment to push his straw out of the wrapper and plunk it into his cup. The grate of plastic on plastic sounded louder than it should have. He took a long drink of cold soda before he finally shrugged and shook his head. “I didn’t want to.”
“You have before. I could see it in the way she watched you.” Her tone wasn’t quite accusatory, but it rode the line pretty close.
He nodded. If this were another woman he might have lied, but it had been made very clear to him that this particular woman did not forgive deceptions, even the polite kind. “We did. She is some kind of model. Does a lot of work for resort pictures, I think. You know the kind they splash all over traveling websites to make it look like only pretty people have fun at those places? She’s one of those. She comes back here between jobs because she’s got a sick aunt or old grandmother or something. I dunno.”
“A model?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “A model. Why?”
Her mouth was hanging open again. He sat back in his seat, puffing his chest out with pride. Is that what it took to get her to look at him? Turn other women down? He could do that. Hell, he could do a lot of that if it meant that she gave him her undivided attention.
“I don’t understand.” She plucked at her sandwich wrapper. A few flecks of white crabmeat fluttered against the table. She plucked them up and set them in a neat pile on the edge of her napkin. He didn’t have a ruler, but he was pretty sure that they formed a perfect line. “You should have gone with her.”
“Are you telling me that I missed out?” He unwrapped his own sandwich and took a bite.
“That’s not what I meant. I mean that… that you are the kind of guy who would have jumped on that opportunity. I fully expected you to… go for it.” She waved one hand dismissively, crossing and uncrossing her legs as if she couldn’t get comfortable.
“Hey,
” he said, putting a hand on her knee to steady her movements. “I know you don’t think a lot of me, but give me some credit. I don’t jump on every offer that’s thrown my way.”
“I can hardly give you much seeing as how you’ve admitted to sleeping with her before.”
“Yeah.” He held his gaze on her until her eyes caught his. They were like a smoky sky behind polar ice caps, frigid and glorious. “But that was before I met you.”
For a moment, she stopped breathing. Her lips parted in an oval of surprise, and her gaze lingered on his mouth as if she was trying to focus on what he’d just said. “Me?”
His hand splayed across her knee, the palm cupping her leg as he swept his thumb over the inner seam, dancing across the denim that was clinging to the roundness of her thigh. He felt the muscle twitch beneath his touch, and a thrill went through him. That small response did wonders for his pride. She wanted him, he was sure of it.
BARE SKIN: A Dark Bad Boy Romance Page 33