Calming the Riot

by Karen Renee

  “More aggressive? How can you know—”

  His father cut Beast off. “I appreciate you boys offerin’ to help me and Delmas. But, cuttin’ to the chase, her days are numbered. Two months, maybe three they said.”

  “But what about chemo?” Beast asked.

  His dad shook his head. “That’ll be a wait and see thing. She had a hard time with chemo toward the end of the last go ‘round. They’re tryin’ to be optimistic, but what I understood from reading in between the lines is they don’t expect it to respond to the chemo.”

  All three men were silent. A sound from the mouth of the breezeway caught their attention, and an older man with a sack of groceries ambled past them. When the man shut the door to his unit, his dad spoke. “What I’m gettin’ at is that I’m here ‘til the eighth. Your Uncle Delmas will be here through January second. Your help is appreciated. I’m glad to know me and my brother raised men who step up for family, but your Gran does not want you boys to see her that way.”

  “Not boys,” Beast muttered.

  “Know that. I called you men, but to your Grandmere, the two of you are her boys. Bottom line, a parent doesn’t want their children to see this stage of their life, how do you think your Gran feels about you two witnessing it?”

  This subject was making Liar very uncomfortable, to say the least. “We just want to help, Dad.”

  His father’s beefy hand clamped down on Liar’s shoulder. “It’s noted and appreciated, son. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her condition myself, but once I found out, I hauled ass down here, and she may have cancer eatin’ up her insides, her ears are still damn-near bionic.”

  As though just mentioning Gran’s ears activated them, they heard her voice approaching the door. “Where are you boys at? You best not be talkin’ about me behind my back.”

  It was rare Liar’s father pasted a fake smile on his face, but when Gran opened the door that was the very type of smile he used to greet her. “We wouldn’t dream of doin’ such a thing, Momma. I was tryin’ to talk these boys into gettin’ a hotel room instead of ridin’ four hours back to Jacksonville. Got about as good a chance of them listenin’ to me as I do you listening to me. Guess the apples don’t—”

  “Don’t talk to me about apples, Charles. Are you boys leavin’ now?”

  Liar glanced at Beast with the tiniest of head shakes. Beast grinned. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of us that easy, Gran. But, we ain’t watchin’ any more old game shows. At least turn on somethin’ from the last twenty years. Betty White’s startin’ to turn me on with her dirty mind and that’s not right.”

  Andrea

  I was officially sated. That was a word that tended to bug me when I read it, but hell if I could deny that was the very definition of me right then and there. I was coming down, and Liar had pushed the door to the bathroom closed enough for a modicum of privacy. The satisfied smile on my face was one I had never felt before because even my best self-induced efforts didn’t result in anything like what Liar elicited from my body. We were opening up to each other this evening, but it didn’t mean I wanted him to know just how good he was with my body. At least, not just yet anyway. Nevertheless, I kept my ears tuned to the bathroom noises while I enjoyed the dwindling tingles through my body.

  The sounds from the bathroom sounded like Liar was making his way toward the exit, so I curled to my side facing the bathroom door. He sauntered out, and his naked form was still perfection, but instead of my hands itching to touch him I found my tongue ready to trace every delineated muscle on display. His knee in the bed brought me out of my naughty thoughts.

  “Andi, swear to all that’s holy, if you do not stop lookin’ at me like that…”

  “If I don’t then what?” I asked as he settled on his back next to me.

  He looked at me. “We may both die from too much sex.”

  I threw my head back and laughed at the ceiling loud and hard. Suddenly I was no longer looking at the ceiling but the hard planes of Liar’s chest because he had pulled me over him. “Ain’t that damn funny, woman.”

  On a clipped chuckle, I said, “Oh yeah it was. There’s no such thing and frankly no damn way for us to die from too much sex. At least not at our age. I mean what are you, twenty-eight?”

  His lips quirked for a moment, and then his expression went serious. “No, babe. Thirty-one, what are you, twenty-four?”

  I dipped my chin at him while giving him my big eyes. “Thanks, but no, sir. I’m thirty. Be thirty-one in February.”

  A mischievous glint hit his eyes. “A woman who’s the same age as me. Haven’t gone there yet.”

  My lips pursed before I said, “Not yet, I’m not, and don’t you forget it, Jim.”

  It struck me in the back of my mind that we had been spending time together for just over a month now, and we had just exchanged our actual ages. It was weird and cool at the same time. Weird because I was surprised neither one of us had volunteered that information, but cool because clearly there was no need to talk about our age because there were better things to discuss. I remembered he had been out of town yesterday.

  “How did your trip go? You have to help Beast with something to do with his move?”

  A wan smile played at his lips. “No. Beast and I went to visit our Gran.”

  “Oh. Well, why didn’t you stay longer? I mean you went down there and came back this morning, that seems rather quick.”

  After a humorless chuckle, Liar said, “Even quicker than that, actually. He and I left in the morning yesterday, got back here just before midnight last night.”

  I reared back. “You’re kidding me.”

  His eyes softened. “She isn’t well.”

  “All the more reason—”

  Liar lifted a finger to my lips and squeezed me with the arm around my waist. “My dad was there to help her. She don’t want me and Beast to see her get sicker. Besides, her condo isn’t big enough for three Huntley men and her putzin’ around in it.”

  I chuckled quietly at the visual. “I can only imagine.”

  “Anyway, my Uncle Delmas, that’s Beast’s dad, is comin’ down in early December. They’re switchin’ back and forth, but don’t want a lot of help from me or Beast.”

  “I’m sorry. There’s nothing worse than feeling helpless when you know there has to be something you can do.”

  “You’re right,” Liar said, and then he rolled me onto my back. “We need to talk about something else. Or better yet, we can shut the fuck up and make out instead.”

  I grinned, and Liar wasted no time in lowering his head to kiss me. A make-out session after being so well-satisfied seemed indulgent because it was clear Liar wasn’t taking it any further than kissing and touching. Crazy as it might have sounded, it was one of the sweetest things a man had done for me in a long-ass time.

  Sounds from the bar-area of the common room were coming through the walls. I didn’t know if it was ten minutes or twenty minutes later. What I did know was that Liar’s talented lips shifted from mine to my neck. It was nice, but not near as fantastic as both of us kissing each other.

  He pulled away from me grinning. “You cool hangin’ in the common room wearin’ your scrubs? Or you just want to get goin’?”

  I didn’t mind hanging out in my scrubs. I mean they were comfy, and I was able to express myself without any thought to whether my clothing was fitted or coordinated or any of that bullshit that I didn’t have time for. Okay, it wasn’t bullshit to other women, but my energy was better spent on other things. The problem was, I had put in a full day which meant I felt grimy. Most of the time it was just a feeling and not an actual case of me being grimy. I should’ve just said yeah or nodded reflexively, but my lengthy reluctance was misinterpreted.

  “We can’t hang back here all night, Andi.”

  “I don’t want to do that, Liar. I’m cool in my scrubs, but I want to shower.”

  A confused look passed over Liar’s face.

  “I know, it doesn’
t make sense. Why get clean and then put on the same damn clothes I was wearing before I showered? I don’t understand myself sometimes. Just go with it, okay?”

  His confused expression quickly morphed into a huge grin. I expected a verbal retort, but he launched himself out of the bed, and it was like instant eye candy. His body type was everything I could have asked for in a man. It was athletic without being in my face about it.

  Before I could contemplate his body any further, he said, “One shower comin’ up. Let’s go, babe.”

  How had I forgotten about that in just a day apart from him? Right, wrong, or otherwise, Liar had it ingrained in his mind that the two of us had to shower together. I didn’t fight it anymore.

  Five minutes later, it was startling when the hefty bar of soap hit the small tub with a resounding thunk. That sound made both of us burst out in laughter even though we were torso to torso, and the feeling of Liar’s lips smiling against my lips was the best feeling I had ever had. For the moment, anyway.

  Liar pulled away from me. “All right, you can argue with me all you want about us not being able to die from too much sex, but I wanna see you beat Roll’s ass at a game of pool. So, hurry up. I’ll see you in my room.”

  I gave his slick back-side a dirty look because while Liar had been giving me plenty of pool-shooting instructions, I wasn’t so sure I was remotely ready to take on a heavyweight like Roll. With Liar’s directive in mind, I got busy with conditioning my hair. This wasn’t my first time using Liar’s shower, and I had made certain to drop an extra bottle of conditioner by just so my hair wouldn’t suffer. God knew that first time I used his shampoo only I nearly lost what felt like half my hair when I got my hands on a decent brush. Talk about lessons learned the hard way!

  When I was done, I padded out to his bedroom with a towel wrapped around my torso; I shot Liar a look. “First of all, I appreciate you thinking I’m ready to take on Roll. I’ve certainly come a long way in billiards under your tutelage, but in no way am I even remotely ready to take on that big man.”

  Liar was sitting on his bed tying a motorcycle boot, but when he stood up to face me, I saw his jeans were not done up. I didn’t know why that struck me as sexy, but it did. Oh, who was I kidding? Every little thing about this man was sexy to me.

  “Eyes up here, babe,” he chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad that I can’t share it with my brothers that you have a problem lookin’ me in the eye instead of at my crotch.”

  I gave him a sassy smile. “On that note, I assure you, it’ll be the last time I make that mistake.”

  He responded with a quick eyebrow arch and a grin. “You’re ready to take on Roll, babe. Your skills ain’t the same as his, but at the same time, he sometimes underestimates his opponents. He’ll get cocky playin’ against you. One way or the other.”

  His last statement almost made no sense to me, but then it clicked, and it did not make me happy. “Are you being sexist and saying that he’ll be busy looking at my tits or something like that?”

  Liar looked only slightly abashed at me sussing him out. “You could say that. But babe, you need to tap into your more competitive side. You got a way to distract your opponent, use it.”

  I shook my head at him as I moved past him to pick up my scrubs from the floor. “We’ll see, Jim, but if I were you, I wouldn’t put any money on this game you’re tryin’ to set up.”

  “No can do, babe.”

  I was nearly to the bathroom door again but looked at him over my shoulder. “What’re you talking about?”

  “Roll only plays if there’s money on the line.”

  “Then I guess you cut our shower short for nothin’.”

  ***

  “What was that all about?” Liar asked in a low voice in my ear.

  Staring at my cell phone on the bar, I heaved a sigh. I turned my head to look Liar in the eye. “Shayla and Paula want me to join them a week early. Get me fully into the swing of things.”

  “Why do you look so upset about it?”

  I twisted my lips to the side for a moment. “For one thing, I don’t have my appointment book on me. I’m pretty sure I only have one early appointment tomorrow, but it doesn’t mean I feel like spending my Saturday afternoon at the poker room.”

  “You mean evening, don’t you, babe?”

  I shook my head. “No, they’re working during a mid-day tournament tomorrow.”

  “Shit,” Liar muttered.

  “What?”

  He pinned me with a stern gaze. “Tell them no.”

  I gave him a sideways glance. “Why would I do that? I’ll be working with them soon enough.”

  Liar’s hand wrapped lightly around my neck. “’Cause, I got somethin’ on for tomorrow afternoon, and I can’t watch out for you. Don’t tell me you forgot about us watchin’ out for you?”

  My head tilted at him. “In broad daylight. Seriously, if Gil’s there, I’m out, and there’s no way I’d miss him watching me or following me during the day time.”

  “Don’t care. I’ll get someone else to watch out for you tomorrow.”

  “Liar—”

  “No arguments, Andi,” he snapped. His tone softened when he added, “Besides, it’s time to shoot some pool.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Andrea

  Two years ago, when we were all three working together, Shayla, Paula and I didn’t do tournaments. For one thing, most of them were in St. Johns County and a crew had already claimed it. It didn’t take me long to know I never wanted to work another tournament again if I had anything to say about it. The first hour and a half were torturous because of the sheer boredom. The players were all loose and ready to go, so nobody needed a massage.

  Shayla moseyed over to me and jerked her head toward the exit. We were moving toward the staircase to go downstairs when she grabbed my forearm. “Oh! You have to meet Mr. Allen. He is the best, and he’s always telling players they need to get a massage. Seriously, he’s probably the main reason Paula and I are able to stick with the crazy night-time schedule here.”

  She led me to an older looking man who was wearing a navy-blue blazer and navy chinos. His button-up shirt was white with a blue grid pattern on it, and he had the top two buttons open. I saw a hint of a thick gold chain around his neck. His eyes were a startling green behind his wire-framed glasses. The smile on his face was friendly, but for some strange reason he rubbed me the wrong way, and I hadn’t even been introduced to him yet. Maybe it was because he was so well dressed on a Saturday. I shoved that notion out of my head because I hated to judge people before I even met them.

  Shayla stopped in front of him. “Hey, Mr. Allen! Didn’t expect to see you here on a Saturday, but I want you to meet a friend of mine who’s going to help Paula and me during the holidays.” She turned to me. “Andrea, this is Mr. Allen.”

  I took his outstretched hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, sir. Shayla says you encourage people to get massages, so thanks for helping her and Paula out.”

  He let go of my hand. “It’s nothing really. Poker can be quite stressful. I simply encourage players to relieve their stress because nothing will impair a player’s abilities quicker than stress.”

  I nodded even though I thought alcohol might be quicker to impair judgment and abilities, but since I’d never played poker, I could easily be wrong.

  Before Shayla and I could move past him, Mr. Allen asked me, “Do you have your own practice, or are you just starting out, Andrea?”

  “Oh, I run the Warm Vibes Massage Therapy here in Orange Park.”

  “Haven’t heard of it, but I would be happy to direct others to use your services outside the poker room.”

  “Thank you, but I wouldn’t want to infringe on Paula and Shayla building their clientele.”

  Shayla put a hand on my shoulder. “You wouldn’t be, Andrea, but I imagine you’re getting a fair amount of business now.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows at her. “What are you talking abou
t?”

  “I thought I heard that the Riot people were all referring people to you?” she asked.

  I twisted my lips in confusion. “Wouldn’t say that, at least not to my knowledge. One referral isn’t much to write home about even if Frankie has become a regular customer.”

  Mr. Allen’s eyes lit. “Speaking of Riot, I believe we might have a mutual acquaintance. Mallory Pierce, do you know her?”

  Cal’s woman, Mallory immediately came to mind, but I knew Cal’s last name wasn’t Pierce. “I do know a woman named Mallory, but her last name isn’t Pierce. Sorry.”

  His head reared back, and he blinked. “Oh, that’s right. She remarried a few months ago. Slipped my mind, Mallory Robertson.”

  “Yes,” I said quietly and nodded. My instincts were telling me something wasn’t right here, but I didn’t want to show it. Since I was short on time, I smiled at him. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ve got to get to the bathroom before someone finally needs my help with their tension. Enjoy your afternoon.”

  When we returned to the poker room floor, I saw Mallory and Cal milling about the cashier’s cage. They sauntered up to Shayla and me. “What are you two doing here?” I asked.

  Cal raised an eyebrow at me. “We’re looking out for you. Volt would’ve been here, but he couldn’t make it.”

  I sighed. “You know, this is all overkill. It’s daytime, and Gil isn’t even here. Believe me, if he were, he’d be out the door, or I would. One or the other.”

  “Not the way this shit works, and my brothers made that clear to you,” Cal grumbled.

  “Yeah, yeah. I know, but I’m just telling you, it’s unnecessary.”

  Mallory nudged my arm. “Stop fighting it. It’s better to be safe than sorry, and besides, I haven’t been here in a long, long time.”

  I smiled at her, but then watched as she rolled her head side to side like she was trying to crack some tension. “Are you tense? You can be my first client of the day. I’ll ease your tension, and I’ll get my own nerves out in the process.”