Sexy Hers

by Carly Phillips

  Twice as Sexy

  Sexy Series Book #2

  Club TEN29

  CARLY PHILLIPS

  Copyright © Karen Drogin, CP Publishing 2019

  Kobo Edition

  Cover Photo: Wander Aguiar Photography

  Cover Design: Maria @steamydesigns

  Editor: Amy Knupp, Blue Otter Editing

  Developmental Editor: Dana with Danja Tales

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  He’s the bad boy her mother warned her about.

  The guy who makes her crave all the naughty things a good girl shouldn’t want.

  Tanner Grayson is a man outrunning the demons of his past and has the rap sheet to prove it. The only thing keeping old anger in check and him on the straight and narrow are the men he calls brothers and the club he calls home. He has no business taking the sexy woman doing shots in his club upstairs to his bed.

  They never should have crossed paths. But when Assistant District Attorney Scarlett Davis lays eyes on the hot as sin club owner, she decides he’s the birthday present she wants to unwrap at the end of the evening.

  He tells himself it’s one night. She convinces herself she deserves a short break from her latest case. But one night isn’t enough and soon these two opposites are in deeper than they ever planned.

  When Scarlett’s case collides with Tanner’s past, she sees the dangerous man he’s hidden beneath the cool veneer he presents to the world. Can she accept him for who he is? Or will she run from the bad boy who makes her feel so good?

  Chapter One

  Scarlett Davis spent too much time in her little corner of the district attorney’s office not to personalize it and give the place some warmth. But not even the pretty succulent owl planters her best friend had bought for her birthday could make the dingy beige walls and linoleum floors bright and cheery. Still, she did her best to decorate and make her area feel like home. Even if her work was too important to worry about little things like atmosphere, she did what she could to brighten up her assigned space.

  “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Scarlett, you’d better come out and celebrate with me or I’ll cry boo-hoo,” her best friend and fellow assistant district attorney, Leigh Michaels, sang as she entered Scarlett’s office.

  Scarlett shook her head and laughed at the pathetic attempt at a song. “That doesn’t rhyme, just so you know, but thank you for the birthday wishes. And the present. I love them,” she said, pointing to the owls she’d set out on the windowsill.

  “You’re welcome.” The pretty brunette settled into the chair across from Scarlett’s desk, a metal piece of furniture that was identical to every other one in the office. “So? We’re going out tonight, right?”

  With a sigh, Scarlett shook her head. “I can’t, Leigh. You know how much work these cases I’m assigned have been. Just because we secured one conviction doesn’t mean the other two are guaranteed.”

  Scarlett was second chair in a series of high-profile New York Mafia cases. She’d been inundated with work for the last year as each one came closer to their trial date. Picking up a pen, she began rolling it between her hands.

  “You need a break,” Leigh argued. “For all the work you’ve done and the way you’ve handled things, these might as well be your cases. Instead Kyle Morgan stands up and takes all the credit when everyone knows it’s your smarts and instincts that have won these victories.” She lowered her voice as she spoke, not wanting to get caught bad-mouthing someone higher up on the totem pole than she was.

  “It is what it is. I don’t need the credit, just the convictions.” Scarlett lived for putting the bad guys away. It was the reason she’d studied criminal justice and had gone into law. The basis for why she’d chosen prosecution over defense as a career. She had a distinct disdain for people who committed crimes and got away with them and made it her mission to prevent those kinds of occurrences from happening.

  She glanced at the photo of Hank, her younger brother, forever immortalized at sixteen years old, sitting on her desk. The picture never let her forget the reasons for her dedication to her work. Neither did the bracelet she wore that he’d given her when she turned eighteen. He’d worked at the corner grocery store and bought her what he could afford. A thin chain with a heart and she never took it off.

  Leigh nodded. “And I respect that. But you only turn thirty once, and I have a connection that can get us into Club TEN29 tonight.” She dropped the name as if it was an incentive to get Scarlett to change her mind about going out.

  “I’ve never heard of the place.”

  At the admission, Leigh rolled her eyes. “Of course you haven’t because all you do is work. If you picked your head up out of those files once in a while, you’d know it’s the hot club in the city and we’re lucky to get our names on a list to get in. They have live entertainment. Did you know they had a grand reopening with Lola Corbin and Charlotte Jasper?” She waggled her eyebrows at the mention of the well-known, popular rock stars.

  Even Scarlett, who buried her head in work, knew of them both and was impressed.

  “And the club is not the same old watering holes the stuffy people around this office go to,” Leigh said, continuing to push. “We could go out, let loose. Come on, you deserve it!”

  Scarlett smiled at her persistent friend. “Fine. You’re not going to let this go, so I might as well give in.” She placed her pen down on the desk.

  “Yay! I just happen to have an extra skirt and top in my bag for you to wear.”

  “Naturally,” Scarlett muttered.

  Leigh was nothing if not always prepared. She’d probably come to work today with this plan already in mind, knowing if she’d asked Scarlett in advance she’d have said no.

  “Well, you’re not going out looking like a prudish schoolmarm from another century,” Leigh said with a disdain-filled glance at Scarlett’s black pencil skirt and matching silk top. Her striped jacket hung on the back of her chair.

  Scarlett burst out laughing at the description. Going to court necessitated a certain staid look, and Leigh not only knew it, she followed the unspoken rules on the days she had to do the same. Even today, Leigh wore a pair of dark trousers, a white camisole, and a blazer. No doubt she had her own short dress to change into later.

  Having accepted her fate, Scarlett smiled. “You now have control over our plans tonight and my clothing. Are you happy?”

  Letting out a clap and squeal, Leigh nodded. “Did I mention I have a bag full of makeup too?”

  Scarlett chuckled, giving in to the inevitable. Leigh was right. She only turned thirty once, and Scarlett hadn’t gone out for fun in way too long. She missed acting her age and putting her focus on herself and not the job. One night at a club wouldn’t kill her. In fact, she might just enjoy it.

  “I’m going to close up my computer for the night. I’ll meet you in the ladies’ room in five minutes.” Leigh tapped on her Apple watch. “Don’t make me have to come drag you away from paperwork, birthday girl.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said to Leigh’s retreating back.

  Knowing she was now going out tonight, she picked up her cell and called her mother, wanting to check in with her caregiver. For as long as Scarlett could remember, Maxine Davis had suffered from depression. Her father had worked hard at his job as a salesman. Before being relegated to a desk job
, he used to travel often and hadn’t had a lot of understanding of his wife’s moods and inability to function.

  He’d taken her to a few doctors, medication had been prescribed, but the drugs didn’t work and her mother often forgot to take them. And with her dad busy, her treatment wasn’t the best. By the time Scarlett was old enough to comprehend her mother’s issues, the depression was deep-seated and no medications took hold or worked. The doctors talked about giving her shock therapy but her mother refused, and as she wasn’t a danger to herself or others, no one could force her to agree. Mack, Scarlett’s father, took the night shift caring for his wife, and during the day, he paid a neighbor who had been a nurse to watch over her mom.

  The phone rang twice and Colleen, the nurse, answered. “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Scarlett. I’m just calling to check on my mom. Is she okay?”

  “Hi, honey. Your mom is fine.”

  Code for status quo. Staring out the window, probably. Scarlett sighed. “Ask her if she wants to talk to me?”

  Why she put herself through this, she didn’t know. The answer was always the same. Scarlett heard Colleen ask and silence followed.

  “I think she’s tired,” Colleen said gently.

  “Thanks.” Scarlett swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Tell Dad if he needs me to call.”

  “I will. You take care,” Colleen said.

  “You too.” Scarlett disconnected and glanced again at the picture of her brother. She couldn’t bring him back any more than she could her mother. Both were lost to her and had been for some time. At least with Hank, she felt like she was accomplishing something in his honor. Putting criminals away, unlike the bastards who’d killed him and gotten away with it.

  * * *

  Tanner Grayson stepped out of the MMA cage, sweating and breathing hard after working out with his sparring opponent. His blood pumped inside him, and his heart beat out a rapid rhythm as he pulled out his mouth guard and tried to catch his breath. Removing his helmet, he shook his head and sweat sprayed around him.

  Beside him, his partners and best friends, Jason Dare and Landon Bennett, men he considered brothers, scowled as they did before and after every match or practice Tanner participated in. But they understood, as Tanner did, that working out his aggression was therapy for his anger issues. Hell, it was therapist approved.

  Kicking, punching, grappling, anything that ultimately involved full-body contact in a channeled way was a relief to his senses. Better than nearly killing a human being in anger, and his partners understood that. They still liked to show up and have his back. Just as he’d always have theirs. He owed them his life. Jason had called in a favor when Tanner had hit rock bottom. His friends had saved him and he’d never forget it. He’d never fuck up what they’d created together.

  “Good job,” Jason said, handing Tanner his water bottle.

  Tanner squeezed it over his face and head before drinking what was left.

  Landon passed him a towel and slapped him on the back. “Feel okay?”

  Tanner nodded. “Thanks for being here. Let me take a quick shower and we can go grab something to eat before we head over to the club for the night.” Tanner jogged into the locker room area, leaving his friends behind.

  A short while later, he rejoined them and immediately noticed the change in atmosphere, the tight set to Jason’s shoulders, and Landon’s steely-eyed stare. Something had clearly occurred while he was cleaning up.

  Tanner’s entire body tensed as he went on alert. “What happened?”

  “Another incident at the club,” Landon bit out.

  “Fuck,” Tanner muttered. They’d had a string of not-so-random problems that had been escalating.

  Ever since they’d expanded the club with live acts and had become an even bigger presence in the Manhattan night scene, someone had been screwing with them. From issues with the sound system that they’d at first attributed to hackers, to automobile vandalism in their parking lot, which had caused them to upgrade the security system and add outdoor cameras, it had become clear that someone wanted to hurt their business.

  After the smashing of windows in the parking lot, they’d accompanied their guard outside and found one of the kids with a bat in hand. In exchange for not reporting him to the cops, they’d discovered he and his pals had been paid well by Daniel Sutherland, an owner of a nearby club that wasn’t nearly as successful as Club TEN29, to cause trouble.

  Tanner had wanted to have a talk with Daniel Sutherland, the owner, but the guys had outvoted him. No one wanted to risk him losing his temper, and Tanner had to agree they were right to hold him back. Instead they’d sent their security to issue a warning. None of them wanted to involve the police unless they had to. Tanner’s blood ran hot at the thought that, once again, someone was sabotaging their hard work.

  As if sensing he needed calm, Jason put a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “Let’s get over there and see what’s going on. Then we can work out a plan.”

  With a nod, Tanner followed his friends out. They called for an Uber, waited, and climbed into the large SUV, driving to the club in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

  For Tanner, Club TEN29 and his friends were his lifeline. Best friends since meeting in college and experiencing tragedy together and now full partners, they ran the club like a well-oiled machine. Tanner dealt with everything inside the club, Landon handled entertainment, and Jason held the position of CEO, dealing with the business end of things. Although they each had carved out positions, they also jumped in and lent a hand when needed. Decisions were made by the three of them together and it worked. For a club that was a mere two and a half years old, they’d created something to be proud of.

  Something Landon’s twin, Levi, who’d died in a hazing incident their freshman year in college, would have loved. The club was named after Levi, TEN29 being the month and day he’d died. Everything they did was to make their friend and brother proud.

  Tanner’s anger issues stemmed from his father’s verbal abuse and Tanner’s inability to fight back against the authority figure his father had been. And certainly his problems with anger had escalated after the night Levi died, but it wasn’t something Tanner liked to dwell on now. He just wasn’t going to let someone undermine all their hard work.

  They pulled up to the club and met their security guard, who had just come on duty, outside.

  “Hey, Glenn. What’s the problem?” Jason asked.

  “Come around back.” The big, bald man gestured around the corner, and they followed him to the brick wall on the side of the building where Jason and Landon had parked their vehicles. Both the wall and cars had been spray-painted with graffiti.

  Tanner swore at the bright colors on his Range Rover. “What the hell? Sutherland thinks he’s going to shut us down with this kind of bullshit?” He shook his head. “It’s a pain in the ass but it’s manageable. What’s his endgame with this kind of annoying harassment?”

  “Beats me,” Landon muttered. “But look at my fucking car!” He gestured to the Mercedes covered with spray paint.

  Hands in his pants pocket, Jason stared at his Jag and shook his head. “Son of a bitch.”

  Tanner glanced at his friends. “You guys are off tonight, so call to have your cars towed and get out of here. I’ll ask our security company to pull the video footage and see what they find, and I’ll get Sam Fremont in to cover over the wall before anyone sees. You guys go do your thing.”

  It was Tanner’s night to cover the club, or at least stick around the upstairs apartment. Jason had his wife, Faith, to go home to, and Landon deserved his night off too.

  After taking care of their vehicles, the guys left, and Tanner headed upstairs to the apartment they kept above the club. He left a message for Tyler Germaine, the owner of Germaine Security, to check the outside video camera footage in the morning, then changed into the clothes he wore to walk the club floor during business hours.

  Dressed and ready, he headed b
ack downstairs for a long night of music, dancing, and hopefully plenty of repeat and new customers having fun and enjoying Club TEN29.

  * * *

  Scarlett put the glass to her lips and tossed back the frozen vodka shot, her third of the night. “You can multiply that by ten and call it a day,” she informed Leigh with a laugh. “Thirty, get it? But no more birthday shots for me.” From now on, she’d be nursing a drink and dancing.

  She rose to her feet, taking a second to steady herself in her heels, and pulled at the little black skirt Leigh had lent her because it tended to inch up around her thighs. She was feeling ditzy but not totally drunk, and she had to admit coming here tonight had been a good idea.

  The club atmosphere was fun. The live singer was an up-and-coming pop star, or so she’d been told by the friendly bartender. And Leigh was flirting up a storm with a guy she’d met once before and had been texting with ever since. Scarlett didn’t think it was coincidence he was here tonight. She’d obviously planned to meet up with him.

  “Can I get you something else?” the bartender, a sexy man with his hair buzzed on the sides and longer on top, asked, leaning over the bar to get closer to her.

  Although she could admire his looks, he wasn’t her type. Too long, lean, and blond. She sighed because it just didn’t matter. She had no time for any man in her life right now. “I’ll have a pink lemonade on ice, please.”

  “Gotcha.” He snatched up a tip from another customer and turned to work on her order, handing her a glass a few seconds later.

  “It’s so warm in here,” Leigh said, waving her hand in front of her face.

  “I think it’s all the alcohol you consumed. You’re flushed. Do you want to go outside for a few minutes?” Scarlett asked her friend.

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to leave Cliff alone for some other woman to swoop in and grab him.” She tipped her head toward the tall, dark-haired man who was ordering himself a drink and Leigh a glass of water.