Con’s posture changed immediately. “Good, then I don’t need to hold back when I ask you just what the fuck you think you were doing coming to my club?” He jammed his fingers into his hair and tugged outward, giving him a wild and crazed…and incredibly sexy look.
“Well? Because it better be good. So fucking good that I can’t even fathom a reason good enough that you’d walk your ass into a place like that.” He turned and paced toward the other end of the pavilion. “Jesus. You could have been recognized. Didn’t you even think about that?”
Con’s pacing continued as I debated how to answer his question.
I went with the truth.
“I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t really thinking.”
He spun and faced me. “That’s your answer? You weren’t thinking? You’re always fucking thinking.”
I pushed off the chair so I didn’t feel quite so much at a disadvantage. Hands fisted on my hips, I said, “Maybe I don’t want to think anymore. I said I was ready to jump. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. So I guess that’s what I was doing. I just wanted to live for once in my life without considering every potential outcome.”
Con stepped toward me, arms crossed over his chest. “And so you decided to live a little by coming to my strip club. How in the fuck did you even know about it?”
I looked down at the planks of weathered wood beneath our feet. Lucas Titan’s taunt as I’d left the board meeting echoed in my head. “Bet you wouldn’t be so eager to fuck a guy like Leahy if you knew he spent most of his time staring at tits and ass at his club.”
Stunned, I’d gone home, my newly formed plan to grab life with both hands already floundering. A glass of wine later, I’d decided that this development would not slow me down. New plan: go see what all the fuss was about. After all, I’d never been to a strip club before.
“I heard about the club from…an acquaintance. When I didn’t see your bike at Voodoo, I decided to see if you were there.”
His expression hardened for a beat before one side of his mouth quirked up. “You stalking me now, princess?”
I shrugged. “Maybe?”
The half smile fell when he said, “Don’t do it again. Tracking me down is a bad idea. Besides, that’s not how this deal works.” He stepped closer. “You’re supposed to be where I say, when I say.”
Arrogant bastard. “What if I don’t like how that works?”
“That’s the deal.”
The tension between us was rising, and Con took another step toward me. Was I really ready for this? I looked around, gauging our surroundings.
“Where are we?”
The smoldering intent flaring in Con’s eyes died out.
“Joy and Andre’s lake house. They’d been in the middle of construction when they were killed.”
My mouth fell open into a little O. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Don’t think many people do. Or if they did, they’ve probably forgotten about it by now.”
I glanced back toward the house. “You said it was mid-construction. It looks finished to me.”
“Because I arranged for it to be finished.”
“And you kept it?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t seem right to sell it. They were so damn excited about it. This was going to be where they played with all the grandkids they’d hoped they’d have someday.”
The mention of grandchildren surprised me. “Grandkids? From you?”
Con’s expression twisted at the surprise in my voice. “So hard to believe that I might want kids someday?”
“Do you?” I didn’t know why I asked. It was none of my business. But I couldn’t restrain myself.
His eyes flicked up and down my body, and I had the urge to wrap my arms around my middle. I always felt like he was looking inside me and seeing all my flaws.
“Maybe. But not until…”
He trailed off, fist clenching.
“Not until what?”
His dark blue gaze, flashing with the blinking twinkle lights, caught and held mine. “You don’t want to know.”
“Why not?”
“Because you might end up on the witness stand at my trial.”
The statement was so raw and ominous—not to mention completely unexpected—that I stumbled back to the railing behind me.
“I don’t…understand.”
“Let’s just say that I can’t move forward with my life until whoever ended theirs pays for it.”
My hands gripped the railing to hold me upright, but his words cut me off at the knees. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Con planned to extract the payment himself. I was reminded that he was a veteran. A man who had probably killed before. Who might feel compelled to kill again.
How the hell was I supposed to feel about that? In awe of his conviction or terrified that he could so easily end someone’s life? Even if it was justified to his way of thinking—which was completely foreign to me—it was still criminal.
“Are you serious?”
Con ignored the question, which was probably appropriate, because it was a stupid one. Instead he jerked his chin toward the house.
“The booze is inside. And I’m not having this conversation without it.”
With that, he stalked off down the dock, leaving me stunned and silent on the pavilion.