by M. S. Parker
“It’s our job not to relax, Carly.” The guy with the broken arm spoke through gritted teeth.
He was going to need to get that looked at.
She rolled her eyes again and then smiled at me. “Have a drink with me. Makes me look a little less like a lush.”
“Ah, yeah. Sure.” I shrugged. If I was going back to jail, I figured I should probably enjoy the moment. “Whiskey, I guess. If you’ve got it.”
She didn't even blink. “What kind?”
Kind? Running my tongue across my teeth, I thought that through. Okay. Yeah, I knew there were kinds. I was born in Kentucky after all and even if I hadn’t had much chance to experience it, this was the land of milk and bourbon. But my idea of variety, as far as whiskey went, ran the gamut from the kinds that didn’t burn your stomach lining right off and the kinds that did. Rather than confirm my ignorance, I acted like it didn't matter. “Anything is fine.”
She studied me for a moment, and then she smiled. It was a somber kind of smile, one that was curiously sad, and because it made my chest feel sort of tight, I looked away. This was why I tried to avoid people. No one looked at me like they actually saw me, just who they thought I was.
While she busied herself at what I guessed was the bar, I moved over to the window. I found myself staring out at a city I barely recognized. I supposed when you lived in the west end, in some armpit apartment that really ought to be condemned, then maybe you didn't notice the bright and shining lights, or the pretty glow of the bridges at night. My city was vastly different from hers.
“Here.”
I turned at the sound of her voice, and I found myself caught up in the sight of her again, the scent. Really, she was an entire experience. Golden curls, pale, soft skin and sweet, sweet female. The kind of sweet, sweet female I’d never had the pleasure of knowing, and when her fingers brushed mine, it made me twitchy.
It had been way too long since I’d been with a woman, any woman, and she was right here...
“Here,” she said again, smiling as she pushed the glass of whiskey into my hand. “Try this. I bet you’ll like it.”
To cover the flush that seemed to be rushing up my neck, I grunted a response, and turned back to stare out the window. Then I tossed back a swallow, ready for the burn of it.
It didn’t burn.
It glided. Like hot, sweet silk.
“Damn,” I murmured a second later.
“Nice, yeah?”
Instead of responding, I lifted the glass and took another drink, a smaller one this time, taking care to savor it. It was just as good this time as the last and I enjoyed it that much more for taking my time.
“Nice is one word for it.” I lifted the glass and studied it, decided I could maybe make it last ten minutes if I was careful. I'd learned a long time ago that ten minutes could last a lifetime. At least these would be a good ten minutes.
“Angel’s Envy,” she told me.
I frowned and looked over at her.
She tipped her glass at me, tapping it with a nail that was painted pink to match her dress. “The bourbon. Angel’s Envy. Good stuff. It’s one of my favorites. Kentucky makes some excellent bourbon, I must say. It’s almost as good as Pappy Van Winkles.”
She had to be joking with that one. Squinting at her, I said, “Pappy Van Winkles?”
“Yep.” She winked, one quick drop of her lid. “If you’re nice, maybe I’ll share it with you some time.”
With a name like Pappy Van Winkle, it would probably taste like pure rotgut. Then again, she didn't exactly look like the sort of woman who'd throw back that shit. My experience around the opposite sex had been with that sort, and she sure as hell wasn't like those women.
I gave her a tight smile and went back to savoring the bourbon. Angel’s Envy – the name was perfect. It was almost gone, and I wished I hadn’t belted that first drink. If I had more, I’d have a reason to linger, and considering what I had waiting for me when I left, lingering didn't sound like a bad idea.
Around me, I could hear the low murmur of voices, the two men who’d chased after Carly at first, and the others who joined up soon after. I heard what sounded like a report, and then a stream of cussing, a promise of regular updates. I didn't look at any of it, letting myself enjoy the time alone with my drink.
I finished it far sooner than I wanted to and finally turned around. I saw the neat little bar area where she’d poured the glass and went over, intent on washing it up. I may have been rough around the edges, but I had some manners.
“Do you have a job?”
Carly's question stopped me in my tracks.
I went still, my spine going poker straight. Slowly, I turned. Meeting her gaze dead-on, I inclined my head. “Why?” It came out more harshly than I'd intended, but I didn't apologize.
A cute, impish sort of smile curled the corners of her pretty mouth. Man, I should have stolen a kiss when I'd had the chance. I’d regret that for the rest of my life. Maybe she’d never remember anything else about me, but if I’d kissed her, I could have given her something to remember.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?”
That question caught me off-guard, and I didn't have an answer for her. Scowling, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, trying to figure out the best way to answer.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the looks a few of the hotel suits slid me. They were quick. Subtle, too. But I know that kind of look. You stupid or something?
Or something.
I curled my lip in their direction.
Judging by the subtle tensing of Julio’s body, he realized something was amiss. Now he was real subtle, but I caught the quick turn of his head, the way he cocked his eyebrow at his people. Their faces blanked quick as you please.
Fuck ‘em.
“I figure you had to be somebody,” I said, shrugging. “Reporters don’t go around shoving their cameras in the face of your everyday average bombshell just for the hell of it. But...no. I don’t know who you are.”
Carly’s head fell back as she laughed. Maybe I should've been embarrassed by that, but the sound of it wasn’t mocking. I knew when I was being laughed at.
And I knew that wasn't it. I hadn’t heard the sound of pure and simple happiness very often, and maybe that was why I recognized the difference so easily.
She was just happy. Delighted, even. And it had something to do with the fact that I didn't know who she was.
This day just kept getting weirder.
She came toward me, still grinning, although the laugh was fading. I could still hear the echo of it, and it was hard not to let my mouth curve up in reaction. I wanted to smile at her, share in that bright, infectious pleasure, despite the fact that I didn’t really understand why she was so delighted.
It was a puzzle, and I was so busy trying to figure it out that she caught me off-guard. Not something that normally happened to me. It wasn't smart, not for a guy like me. It could end up getting an ex-con like me dead, so I'd spent years honing my awareness. But she was something I'd never expected. Or experienced.
I tensed as she reached out, my body reacting instinctively. When her fingers brushed my cheeks, I caught her wrists. What the hell was she doing?
Then she swayed closer and the shock had me loosening my grip. I didn't understand why her goons weren't stopping her. Because there was no way she actually wanted...
She dragged my mouth down even as she rose up on her toes. Before my brain could process, she pressed her lips against mine.
Hard.
Lust, visceral and hot, twisted through me like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
She was already retreating when I caught her shoulders and did exactly what I’d wanted to do pretty much from the second I’d tackled her out on the street. Then, it would have been pretty damn out of place. Now...well, maybe it was out of place, but for that split second when her lips had brushed mine, I felt it. That strange, seductive tug.
And, hell, s
he started it.
I waited for her to pull back, but she sighed against my mouth and leaned closer.
What should have been a fast, impersonal kiss became something slower, softer...sweeter. I licked at her lips and she hummed deep in her throat, opened her mouth for me. My fingers tightened on her shoulders and I started to slide my hands down.
But the loud clearing of somebody’s throat interrupted before things could go any further.
We broke apart and I could feel my face heating up while she studied me. There was something in her eyes I hadn’t seen until that moment, and I wasn't sure how that made me feel.
She took a step back and I wanted to grab her, pull her close, make everybody go away, make the whole world go away. And I knew she could do that for me, do the one thing that no one else had been able to do. She could make me forget. Forget where I was, who I was.
Instead of acting on what I wanted, however, I put more distance between us. My booted foot kicked something and I looked down, realizing I’d dropped the glass that had held the bourbon. I stooped down, grabbing it. When I straightened, I caught sight of her from the corner of my eye.
Lust clenched my stomach at the look on her face. She was still watching me, wearing a small smile. The kind of smile a woman gets when maybe she wants a man to make the whole world go away.
I could do it, too. But she’d hate me after, either because she'd found out who I was or because I'd left before she could.
“So.” One of the suits cleared his throat again, cutting through the silence.
I hunched my shoulders and cut around her to the counter. I needed something between us.
The hotel suits were studiously looking elsewhere, while the other two – I decided to call them Tango and Cash – were glaring at me. Hard. That was fine. I planned on getting the hell out of here anyway. Once I left, maybe Tango would finally call that damn cab and get his ass to one of the hospitals a few blocks away, so they could set his arm. He was all pale, his forehead shiny and his mouth tight with pain.
I hurt just looking at him.
He was older than I'd realized too, and that just made me feel worse about what I'd done. He wasn't exactly old, but he had at least half a dozen years on me.
“Are you going to answer my questions?”
I shifted my gaze to Carly, for just a moment, and tried to remember what she'd asked me. After a moment, it came to me. “No, I don’t know who you are, and no, I don’t have a job at the moment.” I paused and then gave a thin smile. “I’m between projects.”
Between projects sounded so much better than unemployed. Especially when I was unemployed – again – for the third time in a year. I’d start job hunting first thing tomorrow and, sooner or later, I’d find something. But it would be suck work, for suck pay, despite the fact that I was qualified for all sorts of jobs. There were plenty of people out there willing to hire people with a record, but there were ex-cons and then there were ex-cons. I was one of the latter.
“Between projects,” she echoed. “So does that mean you have something else lined up?”
I glared at her. “What is this, Twenty Questions?”
“Is it bigger than a breadbox?” She grinned, apparently not intimidated by my annoyance.
Damn, that made her all the more desirable, even if her questions were annoying me.
“I’m curious.” She shrugged. “I...well. It won’t do me any good to talk about it if you have a job lined up. Do you?”
“There’s always something floating around.” I kept my voice vague and glanced at the door, then the time. It was already nine. It was going to be eleven by the time I got home, even if I left now. And I wanted to get an early start tomorrow, so I needed to get out of here. “Look, I need to get going, so if you all don’t—”
“So, you don’t have anything specific lined up.” Now she looked pleased, smiling that gut-wrenching smile again. “Good. I want to hire you. For a week. I pay really well.”
“Carly!” That came from the one I'd deemed Cash. The one without the broken arm.
Tango was more polite, but it was just as clear that he hadn't been in on Carly's offer. He moved forward, his movements easy despite the fact that I knew his arm had to be hurting like a motherfucker. I’d had my arm broken before, so I knew. “Sir...ah, I’m sorry, we never did get your name.”
I tried not to snort a laugh at the sir. “Call me Bobby.”
“Bob, if you—”
“Bobby,” I corrected, hardening my voice. “My name isn't Bob.” That had been his name, and I never went by that.
“Bobby, then,” he said easily. “We need to speak with Carly for a moment, if you don't mind.”
“No, Jake,” Carly said, and she said it with steel.
I slid her a sidelong look as she moved in front of me, arms crossed, one high-heeled foot tapping impatiently. My eyebrows went up. Was she actually putting herself between me and her security guards?
“I’m the boss, remember?”
Cash stepped up next to Tango – Jake, I corrected myself. “Carly, you put us in charge of your safety.”
When Jake spoke, I wasn't sure who was more surprised, Carly or me. “Ryan, Carly’s right. She is the boss.”
Carly gave Jake a brilliant smile and then turned to me.
“So. You don’t have anything concrete lined up for at least a week, right?”
I’d fallen through the looking glass. The rabbit hole. Whatever. Rubbing my neck, I studied her for a few seconds, and then looked around, trying to figure out just how this conversation had gone from what I'd assumed was a thank you scotch, to her trying to hire me. And for what, anyway?
“Look...”
“I take it that means I’m right.” She beamed, looking pleased.
Dammit she was cute. And arrogant too. It was just a little more than confident, but not so annoying that it rubbed me the wrong way. In fact, it rubbed me very much the right way.
I thought maybe about kissing her again. But then she started talking...about a job.
“So, a week, okay? We can talk wages and–”
Time to stop the crazy train. Shaking my head, I turned away. “No. Sorry, darlin’. You can’t pay me well enough to make it worth the kind of trouble working with you – whoever you are – would bring the both of us.”
“Wanna bet?”
Her voice, cocky and confident, should have gotten on my nerves. But, instead, it was making me hard. Yeah, she’s arrogant, alright. I turned back to her, my gaze sliding to the smug grin on her pretty mouth. Fuck. I had to look away or I was going to keep thinking about how that mouth had felt against mine.
If she was smart, she’d stay far away from me. I could see the way all of the suits were watching me. Jake might've let her have her say, but it was clear he wasn't giving me free rein. She couldn’t tell what she was dealing with, but they could. They saw it all over me.
So they were watching. Like they thought maybe I’d make a move on her. Like I’d ever hurt a woman. Any woman. And definitely not that one.
But I could if I wanted to. I knew how to hurt people, had once spent most of my time doing nothing but that. Then I’d been forced to do it to stay alive. I’d never hurt a woman. They wouldn’t believe that, though. They wouldn’t understand the kind of life I’d lived, the choices I’d made, the roads I’d walked. But they didn’t need to.
I didn’t care about them.
I was bothered, though, by the fact that she was being so careless, even as I was strangely drawn to the fact that she wasn’t afraid of me.
I couldn’t remember the last time somebody had talked with me about anything without giving me the side-eye, wondering if they were going to come out of the discussion intact. Even Frank and shy, nervous Candy had been jittery at first. If people didn’t act nervous, then they were hostile or aggressive, like a dog marking its territory.
Carly had asked me if I knew who she was, but now I was thinking I should have asked her a similar que
stion: do you know what I am?
“You haven’t asked how much I can pay you,” she said, taking another step toward me.
“Because it doesn’t matter.” I jerked a shoulder up as I shoved my hands into my pockets.
Why wouldn't she just let this go? The scotch had more than made up for her hitting me with her purse. Not to mention that kiss. I didn't need anything else from her.
“You sure?”
As a smug little smile curved her mouth, I took a step back, and allowed myself a long leisurely look at her, letting my gaze linger over the curve of her hip and the length of her legs. She was stacked. The lush curves of her body could take the weight of mine, and I knew that sinking into her would be like sinking into heaven.
“Just what do you plan to offer me, princess?” I asked and my voice was rougher than it should have been. “Fifty bucks a day? A hundred?”
The room was quiet.
I lifted my gaze back to her, expecting to see her blush or ordering one of her suits to muscle me out of there. I hadn’t been subtle about my perusal of her body and I’d done it on purpose, deliberately making sure everyone in the room knew exactly what I was doing.
To my surprise, she was giving me a bored look. Like she’d been on the receiving end of such a stare more times than she could recall and she didn't even care. That idea pissed me off – and it left me feeling ashamed. I didn’t like it.
Once our eyes met, Carly crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward the slightest bit. She smirked. “You’re a little off.”
“Yeah?” I cocked up a brow. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need a mechanic. If your limo isn’t running right, a girl like you just gets a new one, right? So what exactly did you have in mind? Car engines are about all I’m good at.”
“Relax. My limo is just fine.” She looked amused. “No, I’ve actually got something else in mind. See, I’m in town for the rest of the week and this weekend. Jake is going to be...limited, we’ll say. I’m sure you can imagine why.” She slid her gaze to the man who was cradling his arm.
I blew out a breath as guilt started to twitch. Although, okay, really, that wasn’t my fault. He was the ass who’d grabbed me. I’d told him not to move. He’d moved. He couldn't say I hadn't warned him.