Causing Havoc

by Lori Foster

  “Damn it, man, I’m trying—”

  “Dean. Roger. What’s going on?”

  At that familiar female voice, Dean closed his eyes in dread. But only for a second. He didn’t want to miss a thing, not Roger’s reaction, and not Cam’s reception.

  His sister knew he was staying at the motel, but so far they hadn’t run into each other. Of course he’d been more away from the motel than in it.

  He intended to keep it that way.

  Harsh with guilt, Roger spun on his heel toward Cam. “Sweetheart.” His smile wouldn’t convince anyone. “I didn’t hear you there.”

  Dean smirked at Roger’s obvious discomfort. Idiot.

  For her part, Cam stood near to Roger with a familiarity Dean couldn’t ignore. So maybe they were an item. That didn’t mean his sister would actually marry the ass.

  Along with a trim black skirt and tailored blouse, Cam wore a name badge. It infuriated Dean.

  What type of man had a woman he loved working second shift for him?

  Roger cleared his throat. “Cam, honey, I thought you were doing some inventory.”

  She sent Roger a gentle smile. “Yes, but I finished.” She turned to Dean with caution. “How is everything?”

  Dean couldn’t help but grin. “You lack subtlety, Cam.” Without thinking about it, he touched her cheek. “Eve is fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  Chagrined, she smiled an apology. “I know it’s none of my business.”

  It was none of Roger’s business, but Dean had no problem with Cam’s honest concern for her friend. “It’s okay.”

  “When I left for work, Eve was about to leave, too, and I know you two were still sniping at each other.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry if the work on the roof made it more difficult for you to patch things up.”

  Dean shook his head. “Stop fretting. There’s nothing to patch up. I’m heading over there tonight, just as soon as I shower and change.”

  Delight relaxed Cam’s posture. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Maybe,” Roger offered, “Eve will be incentive enough to keep your brother around longer.” He put his arm around Cam’s waist. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “Whatever makes Dean happy makes me happy.” Cam dug in her skirt pocket. “By the way, you have a couple of messages. They’re on your voice mail in your room, but I also wrote them down.” She handed several slips of paper to Dean.

  He gave them a brief glance. “Simon Evans, my trainer—among other things.” He hoped there wasn’t anything urgent that needed his attention. When he first came to Harmony, he’d planned a very brief visit. Simon knew that.

  But now…Well, he didn’t know how long he’d stay; he only knew that he didn’t want to leave yet.

  “He called three times,” Cam prompted.

  “Yeah.” Dean frowned. “I had my cell off while I was working on the roof because I didn’t want to be bothered.” And he hadn’t thought anyone would try to reach him anyway. “It’s probably nothing.” At least, he hoped so. “Maybe a sponsorship offer or something. Those come up a lot.”

  Restless with wariness, Cam touched his arm. “Dean…” She dropped her hand, shifted, looked at Dean, looked away, and finally said, “You won’t leave without telling me, will you?”

  Like a punch in the heart, her concern struck him. Damn. Did she really think he’d do that? That he’d sneak away without so much as a farewell? Had he given her reason to think it?

  Before Dean could reassure her, she rushed into more nervous chatter.

  “I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. It’s just that with your trainer calling, I figured he might want you back for some reason. And I understand that. You have a very serious career.”

  A career that she figured was a whole lot more important than any long-lost family?

  Her smile trembled. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up one morning and find out that you’ve left as suddenly as you arrived. I’m afraid I won’t have a chance to say…” Her voice faded. “Good-bye.”

  “Cam…”

  Desperate, she moved closer to him. “If you wouldn’t mind too much, I’d like your number and address and all that. I wouldn’t intrude, I promise. I wouldn’t visit without an invitation. But—”

  Empathy, affection, and the need to protect, all crashed down on Dean, blinding him and stealing his tongue. He couldn’t get a single word choked out, so instead he went with his gut and lifted Cam off her feet in a forceful bear hug.

  It was the most uncommon thing, how it felt to hold a sister. Good, but not a routine type of good. He put his nose in her hair and inhaled, and it all seemed familiar and yet very, very strange. Somehow comforting. And reassuring.

  Cam’s affection worked like quicksand, sucking him in until he knew struggling wouldn’t help at all. In fact, it’d make things worse.

  Voice gruff, Dean said, “I won’t disappear, Cam. I promise.”

  She gasped, then whispered, “Dean, please.”

  He lifted his head—and saw Roger’s anxiety and anger. Well, hell. He had Cam compressed against his chest tight enough to asphyxiate her. Unlike him, she wasn’t made of muscle and thick bones. In comparison, her frame was small and delicate.

  Roger wanted to attack him. Dean saw it in his eyes, in the way he breathed and how he held himself. Dean would almost relish a reason to put the bastard out with one nose-crunching blow.

  But Roger only snarled, “For God’s sake, you’re cutting off her air, man. Let her go.”

  Having already loosened his hold, Dean tilted Cam back. “I’m sorry, hon. You’re okay?”

  “A few broken ribs, that’s all.” Her wicked, teasing smile showed a strong resemblance to Jacki that Dean hadn’t before noticed.

  After Cam smoothed her clothes, she reached up to cup Dean’s face. “Do you mean it? You’ll let me know before you leave Harmony?”

  His sister was a demonstrative woman, a natural nurturer. A woman who enjoyed physical contact. Dean thought of her with Roger, and it plain didn’t sit right with him.

  “Yeah.” He met Roger’s gaze with a clear warning. “You’ll know.”

  “Thank you.” She put her arms around his waist and this time, it seemed a natural thing to return her embrace.

  ONLY one young man stood at the counter in the lobby when Dean went out the doors an hour later, freshly showered and changed into clean clothes. He assumed Roger had gone home, and Cam likely had duties elsewhere. He felt a reprieve at avoiding more emotional conflict with her.

  Once outside, the hot, humid air closed in on Dean. The crunching sounds of his soft-soled shoes on the gravel lot echoed through the darkness. Security lights, stationed near the entrance to Roger’s establishment, failed to reach the far end of the lot, leaving many cars cloaked in heavy shadow.

  Because Dean always parked away from other cars, the Sebring presented a lone, hazy structure, barely visible against the overgrown weeds and untended shrubs from the convenience store behind it.

  As he crossed the lot, Dean dialed Simon Evans. His trainer picked up on the fourth ring.

  “Evans here.”

  Dean started to reply, and a slight noise and a shifting in the shadows snagged his attention. Vague, maybe even part of his imagination, it still triggered his senses, putting him on alert. His gaze scanned the area, peering through the thick cover of darkness.

  Nothing.

  Evans hung up on him.

  Shit. Dean redialed and this time when Simon answered, he said, “Hey, it’s Dean. Sorry for losing you, there.”

  “Bad connection?” Simon asked.

  “Just a distraction.” He saw no reason to tell Simon he’d gotten spooked enough not to reply. “I got your messages. What’s up?”

  “A great deal, that’s what. Pack your bags and get on back here.”

  “No.”

  Simon hesitated. “What the fuck is this? You don’t even want the details before refusing?”

  It would
n’t matter. “You’re dying to tell me, so go ahead.”

  With gruesome delight, Simon said, “Desmond broke his hand in the last fight. Shattered a couple of bones. He’s out for awhile.”

  “Sucks for him. What’s it have to do with me?”

  “That fight drew a lot of attention. Most of it negative.”

  “Nothing unusual in that.” Dean continued to look around the blackened area as he went to his car. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. “We’ve always gotten more than our fair share of bad press.”

  “And that’s where you come in. You’re their golden boy. Successful in your own right, polite and upbeat. Clean-cut.”

  “Clean-cut?” Dean laughed at that. A daily shave and shower was as close as he got to spiffing up. “How does anyone figure that?”

  “You keep short hair and avoid piercings. Other than that tattoo you got ages ago, you haven’t been inked. You don’t smoke or drink and when half the world is caving into steroids, you speak out against their use.”

  “I did one freaking commercial.” Dean shook his head. The twenty-second clip that blasted the use of steroids in sports wasn’t played in the States, but it aired often in other countries.

  “And you donate to educational pursuits, along with a shitload of other charities.”

  “It’s a tax deduction.”

  Simon spoke over him. “And you saved that one old lady. We’ll be getting mileage from that for years.”

  Dean locked his jaw. “I hope you’re joking.”

  “It’ll be a video of you. Sort of a reality thing where they tail you everywhere you go—”

  “No.”

  “They’ll plug in highlights of some of your fights. Thirty-second knockouts and some that went the distance. They’ll show you without a scratch and beaten bloody.”

  “No.” Hell no. The last thing he wanted was a camera stuck in his face twenty-four/seven.

  Simon let out an aggrieved breath, then switched tactics. “I thought you were going to ring me up once you got settled in.”

  Dean shrugged. He hadn’t settled yet, and he doubted he ever would. Not with the way Harmony dredged up so many mixed memories—some good, most bad. “I got sidetracked with a few things.”

  “Right.” Simon hesitated. “Look, I’m coming to see you.”

  Dean dug his keys out of his jeans pocket. “What for?”

  Leaving no doubt as to his mood, Simon snarled, “Something’s going on. You’re not acting right.”

  “I’m fine.” If being buried in confusion over two sisters he barely knew was fine. If thinking you heard and saw things moving in the darkness was fine. If—

  “You got the shit beat out of you in that last fight, Dean.”

  “I won.”

  He snorted. “You moved like a fucking rookie. A dozen opportunities to submit the bastard came and went and you did jack shit.”

  True. Still…he had won. “Gregor’s here. I’m going to spar with him.”

  Stunned disbelief sounded as harsh as cannon blast. “The hell you are!” Simon’s voice rose loud enough to break his eardrums. “Do not spar with Gregor until I’m there, Dean. I mean it. You’ll end up killing him.” Simon took a breath, then continued to mutter for a few more seconds, before saying, “I’ve got a pen and paper ready. Give me the damn address. I’ll be there in just a few days.”

  Well, hell. With everyone following Dean into Harmony, maybe they should do an exhibition. They could put that in their ridiculous video. Eve could set it up. Her family would love it.

  Which meant she’d love it.

  Not a bad idea.

  In fact, the only bad idea was his repeated use of the word “love.”

  Dean cut his thoughts short, saying, “Do me a favor first, will you?”

  “Depends. Crazy as you’re acting, I need to hear the favor first.”

  “Hire someone to do a background check on Roger Sims. He’s a local here with a lot of enterprises.” Dean named some of the establishments to make it easier to investigate Roger.

  “This Roger fellow do something to you?”

  “Not really.” Staring at the darkness surrounding him, Dean tacked on a silent: Not yet.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  Seeing no real hope for it, Dean said, “He’s dating my sister.”

  More stunned silence, then with dry humor, “That bastard. Want me to have him killed?”

  Trust Simon to make light of surprising news. “If you’re not going to grill me on my never-before-mentioned family, then can I suggest that you bring some gear with you?”

  “Gear?”

  “For sparring. If I’m going to do this with Gregor, might as well do it right.”

  And maybe, just maybe, that applied to everything, Dean thought.

  Even that damned “L” word.

  CHAPTER 15

  MOONLIGHT danced on the surface of the pool water. A warm breeze lifted stray hairs from her face and teased over body parts exposed by her bikini: her throat, her belly, and her thighs. Jacki heard the crickets in the woods beyond. The call of an owl.

  And she heard her own heartbeat, fast with trepidation and anticipation.

  Standing close behind her, feeding her senses with his scent, his masculine presence, Gregor whispered, “It’s nice out here at night.”

  Briefly, Jacki closed her eyes. And in her mind, she saw him in his goofy green lizard boxers, a substitute for trunks. He exuded consummate power. Iron muscles, bold tattoos, and so much confidence made him dangerous, especially to her common sense.

  She had to be insane to put herself in the position of being alone with him like this.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, Gregor’s palm moved over her shoulder, then turned her to face him.

  “Everythin’ okay, sugar?”

  Not even close. Drawn against her will, Jacki moved her bare feet nearer to his. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Dunno.” He caught both her shoulders, restraining her with gentleness. “But you’re quiet, and a quiet woman is enough to set my hair on end. It’s a bad sign. A very bad sign.”

  A nervous chuckle threatened. “Really? And why’s that?”

  “It means you’re thinkin’ of things.” His hands moved up to her throat, rough fingertips rasping against her delicate skin, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. “Probably reasons you shouldn’t be here with me. But I’d rather you just go with the moment.”

  Her heart hammered so hard, it felt like pain. Bravado, Jacki told herself. Be audacious. Be brassy.

  Be what Gregor expected.

  Tilting her head back, Jacki smiled up at him. “And what would the moment be?”

  The dark night couldn’t hide the glitter in Gregor’s eyes.

  “This.” He bent, and his mouth moved briefly over hers.

  Feather light. Cautious. Sweet and easy…

  For about three seconds.

  Then he groaned and hauled her flush to his big body, unleashing all that awesome sex appeal on her.

  Having her flesh smashed up against his gave her first-hand knowledge of how he felt burning hot and rock solid. And…dynamic. Electrifying.

  As her feet left the ground, Jacki braced her hands on his wide shoulders, and she thrilled at the taut, bulging muscles. Oh God, he was so much more man than any man she’d ever known or even imagined.

  While his mouth ate at hers, he cupped one big hand under her bottom, lifting her up and into him so that a long, solid erection dug against her belly.

  She jerked her mouth free. “Gregor…Wait.”

  Breathing audibly, he rasped, “’Kay.” Two more sucking breaths, then a ragged: “How long?”

  She could blame nervousness for making her giggle. She was not the giggling kind. These days, she didn’t have a single thing to giggle about. “I don’t know. I just…This is a surprise.”

  Slowly Gregor lowered her down his body until her feet touched the decorative tiles framing the pool. “What
is?”

  Jacki flagged a hand around them, showing her helplessness with her feelings. “This. Being here with you and running everything at light speed.”

  Like a badly wounded animal, Gregor dropped his head back and groaned. Lifting both hands, he scrubbed them over his face.

  She’d angered him. Maybe he felt she’d been a tease, led him on.

  But she hadn’t planned to.

  They would have gone out after he finished working with Dean. But then Jacki realized that Aunt Lorna planned to stay out late with her friend, and Cam wouldn’t be home until well after midnight. Seeing a movie or having dinner didn’t really interest her.

  But staying home to swim with Gregor, taking the opportunity to get to know him better, did interest her.

  At the time.

  Cocking one hip, Jacki folded her arms under her breasts. “Maybe you should leave,” she sneered. “I hate hearing a man suffer so dramatically.”

  Gregor stepped back. He dropped his hands.

  Waiting for his irritation, his accusations, Jacki met his gaze directly.

  “Sorry.”

  “Say what?” Jacki stared at him in the darkness.

  He made a frustrated sound. “You heard me, darlin’. I’m sorry, damn it.”

  “You are, huh?”

  “I know better than to rush a woman. Y’all like things slow and easy.”

  “Y’all?” He could be such an ass. “Gregor, there’s a chance, a slight chance, that this evening can be salvaged.”

  He went still. “You got my attention.”

  “But I swear, if you plan to compare me to whatever type females you’ve been with, it’s the very last time we’ll talk.”

  Silence reigned. They watched each other. With comical wariness, Gregor moved in. “Okay. I know I somehow offended ya. I got that much. But can you clear things up for me so I don’t do it again?”

  When he got close enough to touch her, Jacki held up a hand.

  He halted.