Chapter Twenty-Three
Impossible
The next morning, post-coffee rush at Fortnum’s, the bell over the door rang.
I had a lot to do, and unfortunately part of that was keeping liquid until my insurance check came in. My credit card balance was getting high and my bank account balance was never high. Thus I needed my take from the tip jar.
I twisted from doing dishes at the sink, looked and saw Mr. Kumar and his mother-in-law, Mrs. Salim, enter the store.
They were regulars. They were also (kind of) part of our posse.
Mr. Kumar owned a corner store on Tex’s block and he’d been dragged into two Rock Chick Rides, Indy’s and Ava’s. He was a good guy who, against the odds, kept his little store open. I helped by shopping there occasionally, even though it was out of my way.
I didn’t know much about Mrs. Salim except that every time I saw her, I feared she’d keel over and quit breathing, she looked that old. And this wasn’t being mean. Seriously, she looked that old. Just saying, the woman’s wrinkles had wrinkles.
I also knew she liked to read.
As usual, Mrs. Salim shuffled to the books.
Mr. Kumar came to the coffee counter and, weirdly, had his eyes on me.
He stopped and looked at Tex. “Did you speak with her?”
I turned from the sink, grabbing a towel to wipe my hands.
“Talk with me about what?” I asked.
“No,” Tex answered Mr. Kumar “I talked to Hank.”
“But the police aren’t doing anything!” Mr. Kumar suddenly cried, and the skin on the back of my neck prickled.
I moved to the espresso counter, jamming in close to Tex. “Talk to me about what?’
“Hank says they’re lookin’ into it,” Tex told me.
“Looking into what?” I asked.
“And I’m keepin’ an eye out,” Tex went on, still not answering me.
“Keeping an eye on what?” I snapped.
“The rash of burglaries on our street,” Mr. Kumar finally answered me.
“You’ve had a rash of burglaries?” Indy asked, coming up to the counter, hands full of empties.
“Yes,” Mr. Kumar answered.
“I’m keepin’ an eye out,” Tex stated.
Giving big eyes to Tex, Mr. Kumar then turned to me. “Tex looks out for the neighborhood, but he’s not finding anything. I talked with some of my customers and we got a… what’s it called?”
I didn’t know what he was talking about so I couldn’t tell him what it was called.
Luckily, he found the word and stated, “Kitty. To pay you.” He dug in his pants pocket, pulled out a card and turned it to me. “We’re hiring a Rock Chick.”
I looked at the card, a card I’d asked Brody to make for me way back in the day when Indy and I were searching for Rosie.
Mr. Kumar had kept his.
Righteous.
What was not righteous was, as much as I wanted the business, I had to make coffee, continue my stripper education and robberies happened at night, the same time as stripping did. And last, there was only one of me. Brody was strung out finding out about the books and he never worked in the field, unless that work required him to be in a surveillance van. Darius worked for Lee and was on the stripper case with me.
I couldn’t take the case.
And that sucked.
“I’m sorry Mr. Kumar,” I said. “I have another case I have to work at night and I can’t be two places at once.”
His face fell. “But we’ve had nine cars on our streets broken into,” he told me. “Stereos stolen. Glove boxes rifled through. Windows smashed. All this in less than two weeks. People are worried.”
Crap.
“I’m keepin’ my eye on it,” Tex repeated, sounding more than his usual grumpy.
“Tweakers,” I muttered, and Mr. Kumar looked at me.
“I’m sorry?”
“Tweakers,” I repeated. “People who need to steal car stereos and fence them to buy drugs.”
Mr. Kumar nodded.
“No one would hit one neighborhood repeatedly in that time unless they were stupid or desperate, and tweakers are both,” I told him.
Mr. Kumar nodded again.
It was then it occurred to me that no one would hit Tex’s street because he did keep an eye out. He did this by sitting on his porch randomly, but often, with a shotgun across his lap and night vision goggles on his head. The presence of a sleeping cat also in his lap was not unheard of.
This was a weird thing to do, but this was also Tex we were talking about. And except for when Rock Chick business leaked into their ‘hood (because Ava lived with Luke now, but she still owned the pad she used to live in there; not to mention Indy’s business brought us there, repeatedly), crime was nil. Probably because Tex lived there and sat outside in night vision goggles with a shotgun.
Shotguns were definitely deterrents. Wild men wearing night vision goggles having shotguns were much stronger deterrents.
This meant the culprits likely knew this, kept an eye on Tex and when he went off duty, they did the deeds.
In other words, locals.
I looked up at Tex. “You got a house in the ‘hood that’s home to a bunch of meth heads?”
“Only about every other one,” he replied.
F*ck.
Door to door action.
Hector.
Hector said if I had a case he could work with me, he was there.
It would have to be pre- or post-stripping (likely post, which would make it a long night), but we could hit the houses, gain entry cops couldn’t by being badasses (or Hector could be one; I’d pretend to be one), hope they didn’t immediately fence the property they stole and therefore call it into Eddie or Hank so they could get a search warrant and roll in.
“I’ll take the case,” I said to Mr. Kumar.
He grinned.
“I said, I got an eye out!” Tex boomed, and I looked up at him.
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, and it’s no big deal. A piece of paper. Nance already lives with me and we’re not takin’ a honeymoon for a coupla weeks ‘cause she’s got some cruise she wants to take and they were all booked up for the week we wanted so we had to wait. So I can keep an eye out.”
He said a lot of words, but I was stuck on one thing.
Tex was going on a cruise?
Tex was going to be confined on a cruise ship with hundreds of other passengers?
Tex was going to be lumbering around the decks in his jeans and flannels with his wild-ass beard and hair, frightening unsuspecting vacationers… on a cruise?
I burst out laughing.
“What’s funny?” Tex asked.
“You,” I choked out, “On a cruise.” I looked to Indy and saw her shoulders shaking.
“What’s funny about that?” Tex demanded to know.
“You,” I choked out again. “On a cruise.”
“I know,” Jet said from behind me, having returned from one of her seven hundred daily pregnancy-related bathroom breaks. “I laughed for fifteen minutes when Mom told me.”
“Tex on a cruise!” I cried.
“Shut it, woman,” Tex ordered.
I kept laughing.
“It’s not that funny,” Tex boomed.
It totally was.
I looked to Jet. “You make your mom promise to take pictures. Lots of them.”
Tex growled.
I looked back at him and kept laughing.
His eyes narrowed and he declared, “You’re on this case, I’m workin’ with you.”
I swallowed laughter, wiped a tear of hilarity from my eye and caught his.
“Fine. You make a list of houses we need to hit. I’ll call Hector, who said he’d work a case with me. I’ll get a night when we can hit them before you go on your,” I swallowed again then forced out, “Cruise. Then we go out and hit them. We find stolen property, we call it into the cops. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Tex grunted.
“Can I get a coffee?” A man standing behind Mr. Kumar asked.
“Are you blind?” Tex asked back.
“Sorry?” the man queried.
Tex threw out a beefy mitt. “Don’t you see we’re havin’ a meetin’?”
The man looked around. He also looked confused.
He looked back at Tex. “I thought you made coffee.”
“We do. We also fight crime. Don’t you read the papers?” Tex asked, and I heard Jet giggle.
I was right with her.
“Um… yes, but I didn’t know you did it when you were making coffee,” the man replied.
“Crime don’t happen when you want it to,” Tex returned. “You gotta be prepared. You gotta plan. And that’s why we’re havin’ a meetin’. Now shut it and wait until we’re done.”
The man gave big eyes to Jet and I. He also appeared indecisive, like he didn’t know whether to wait as Tex ordered, or take his life in his hands that Tex might not like it and flee.
Obviously not a regular.
“We’ll be right with you,” Indy assured him as she moved to walk around the counter.
“We’re done meeting anyway,” I announced then looked between Tex and Mr. Kumar. “The plan’s in place. I’ll give you both a heads up when we put it in action.”
“Thank you, Ally,” Mr. Kumar said. “The neighbors will be very happy to hear this news.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Kumar,” I replied.
“What’ll it be?” Tex boomed to the customer.
But he wasn’t looking at Tex. He was watching, with some alarm, as the apparent walking corpse of Mrs. Salim shuffled to Mr. Kumar carrying a pile of seven books in her arms.
All hardbacks.
I fought the urge to leap over the espresso counter to relieve her of her burden just as Mr. Kumar took the books from her and led her to the book counter.
My eyes went there to see Jane standing behind it, and I began to look away when I looked right back.
One of the pink Rock Chick books was sitting on the counter and she had her fingers to it; not leafing, lightly brushing. As Mr. Kumar and Mrs. Salim approached, she jolted, like she didn’t expect customers (ever) then gave them a small smile.
This wasn’t unusual, Jane being startled. She lived in her own world most of the time. And anyway, selling a book didn’t happen frequently so seven of them would surprise anybody.
But I wasn’t thinking about that.
I was thinking about how she was touching that pink book.
Jane loved books. She was an avid reader. And as a book lover who worked in a bookstore her whole life, she treated them with reverence.
That wasn’t what I saw.
Her touch on that pink book was reverent, for sure.
It was also loving.
Hmm.
Before I could move that thought to fruition, Indy interrupted it.
“I got broody Lee last night,” she whispered to me as she dumped her empties by the sink.
I tore my mind from Jane and looked at Indy. “What?”
“Broody Lee,” Indy answered. “Schedule goes, I get broody Lee at least once a week. A tough case is happening, maybe three or four times. Rock Chick stuff is going down, he veers from broody to annoyed to resigned. Last night, I started with broody Lee because of the meeting and super broody Lee because I told him he needed to quit giving you shit and start giving you support.”
Oh crap.
“Indy, I love it that you did that, but you don’t have to do it,” I told her. “In fact, please don’t do it again. I don’t want to be the cause of trouble between you and my brother. Let this be between Lee and Hank and me.”
“I also told Eddie he needed to sort Lee out,” Jet put in. “And Hank. He said he’d have a chat with them.”
I stared.
“Really?” Indy asked.
Jet nodded. “Yeah. He says he’s seen the tape and he’s also seen veteran officers go into a situation like that and not be able to keep their cool when things go south the way Ally did.”
Whoa.
Wow.
Righteous!
“Seriously?” I asked.
“You were the shit,” Tex boomed, flicking the latch on the coffee grinder to fill the portafilter and doing it so hard the entire grinder shook. “It was f*ckin’ frustratin’. Whole thing took, like, two seconds, and I only got one punch in on the motherf*cker. Then he was down. Splat!”
Indy looked at Tex, then at the customer, then at Tex. “Can you please watch your mouth in front of customers?” she asked him.
“No,” he answered her, then packed the coffee grounds down before shoving the filter up into the machine so the thing lifted off the counter an inch.
“Okay, then can you please not abuse my seven thousand dollar espresso machine?” Indy asked.
“No,” Tex answered then went on. “Been doin’ this years, woman.” He flipped a switch and patted the top of the machine (hard). “This bitch is built to last.”
Indy glared at him then rearranged her face and looked at the customer. “I apologize for my barista.”
“Once you get your coffee,” a blonde who’d just approached the counter, a regular I knew by the name of Annie, stated knowingly, “it’ll totally be worth it. Trust me. He abuses me all the time, and I don’t care as long as I get my coffee.”
“I don’t even know you,” Tex boomed at her.
“I come in every day at eight fifteen,” she shot back, and she was not wrong. She did.
“I’m supposed to remember that?” Tex asked.
“Yes,” Annie returned. “Because, for years, I’ve come in every day at eight fifteen.”
“I’m sorry, Annie,” Indy said.
“Just as long as the crazy guy never loses his touch with the coffee, again, I don’t care,” she replied then ordered. “Half and half mocha latte with a half a shot of almond syrup.”
“I remember that,” Tex muttered.
“Farewell Rock Chicks and Tex,” Mr. Kumar called from the door,
We all looked there and returned his wave (except Tex, who looked but didn’t wave). We also all braced when Mrs. Salim lifted a bony hand and waved, undoubtedly every one of us prepared to grab the broom should one (or more) of her digits break off because the blood stopped circulating there fifty years ago.
They moved out.
We all relaxed.
“That woman creeps me out,” Annie remarked, looking back after looking over her shoulder. “I don’t mean to be mean, but all the zombie movies lately…” she shivered. “Flashback.”
“She’s a good mother and a good grandmother who keeps her culture alive for her family when they’ve moved far away from home in order to make a decent living,” Tex stated and Annie’s eyes shot to him. “So yeah, she looks like the walking dead. She’s alive enough for her family.”
“I meant no offense,” Annie muttered.
“Then don’t say people that I know creep you out,” Tex shot back.
“Tex, you’re always saying shit about people,” I pointed out the truth, and he scowled at me. “And, incidentally, to people,” I went on with more of the truth.
“He’s nervous about getting married tomorrow,” Jet guessed.
“Oh my God! You’re getting married?” Annie cried. “How exciting!”
“F*ck,” Tex groused.
“Can I have my coffee?” the other customer asked.
I moved in to finish the guy’s coffee as Tex said to Annie, “You want your coffee, shut your trap.”
Annie grinned at him.
I handed the male customer his coffee.
He moved away, taking a sip, and stopped dead.
No one reacted to this. This was because a lot of newbies did this.
But what a lot of newbies didn’t do was what he did next.
He turned back and looked at Tex.
“I’m gonna say, you scare me. But I’m also gonna say, this lady’s right.” He tipped his head to Annie and lifted his white paper cup with its cardboard holder. “This coffee is unbelievable. And last I’m gonna say, good luck tomorrow and congratulations. I’ve been married for fifteen years and every day I wake up next to my wife and feel lucky. I wish for you that you feel the same.”
Everyone stared at him except Tex.
He boomed, “What’s your name?”
“Barry.”
“When you come back, I’ll remember you.”
Then Tex turned his attention to making Annie’s coffee.
I pressed my lips together and looked at Indy, Jet and Annie who were all pressing their lips together and doing the same thing.
This was because Tex just paid Barry the highest compliment he could give a customer.
And we all knew why.
Because Tex already felt that lucky.
It was just that tomorrow, he was making it official.
* * * * *
“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
It was post-Fortnum’s, post-stripper class and pre-going out with Vance that night (an appointment that started very late, and one that Ren knew about but luckily had no comment).
I was in a sexy, clingy, back and cleavage-baring, halter-neck LBD and stilettos. Ren was in a suit. And we were on our first official date.
We not only had plenty of time to enjoy it, we had time to get home and have sex before I had to go out and meet Vance.
And it had been perfect.
The whole night.
Perfection.
We were on the sun terrace at Plato’s, an upscale steak and seafood joint on the second floor of a building on Sixteenth Street Mall. We had a table tucked in the corner of the terrace by the railing and behind a big plant that I was certain by the greeting the hostess gave Ren that included her using a “Mr. Zano” in a familiar way, Ren had arranged for us.
It was private and romantic, but still, the lights and hustle and bustle of Sixteenth Street mall made the air seem alive and our view was amazing.
And it was awesome to sit there in the warm May air with Ren looking hot, and knowing the way his eyes were hot on me, he thought I looked the same.
We were finished and the waitress had just slid the leather thingie with his credit card on the table, which meant we were close to the highly anticipated sex portion of the evening.
We’d eaten steak and lobster, shared a slice of rich dark chocolate cheesecake, and drank champagne. The whole time we sat kitty corner to each other.
Close.
This allowed Ren to touch my thigh, my hip, and me to wind my calf around his. It also meant we could lean into each other, Ren holding my hand high, our elbows on the table, my knuckles close to his lips, me having his full attention.
We were living together, committed to each other and our future, and this was our first official date.
That was weird.
But that didn’t mean it wasn’t the best date I ever had.
Bar none.
Then again, maybe it was because we were living together and committed to each other that made it that way.
Mostly, though, I figured it was because Ren was hot, sweet and so totally into me.
And I was in love.
Ren let my hand go to deal with the bill, but the minute he was finished tucking his wallet into his suit jacket that was slung on the back of his chair, he grabbed my hand again and, both our elbows to the table, he leaned in and put it to his lips.
His eyes came to mine.
“Ready to go home?”
I was. So ready.
I was also looking forward to doing the ride along with Vance. Still, I was hoping it wouldn’t last long so I could come home, wake up Ren, and continue the sex portion of the date.
I didn’t say this, though.
Instead I noted, “You didn’t get to Twenty Questions for Ally.”
Ren grinned. He rubbed my knuckles against his full lower lip, his eyes warmed and my happy place convulsed.
“I decided against twenty questions, baby. Findin’ I’m likin’ the surprises you give me.”
And I liked that.
I leaned closer. “Tonight was a great night, Ren. The best.” My voice dipped quiet. “Thank you, baby.”
His eyes got even warmer when he replied, “You’re welcome, honey.”
That was when I got even closer and whispered, “And last night was exactly what I needed. Thank you for that, too.”
“Anytime, Ally,” he whispered back.
“Ally?”
This came from behind us and we both turned our heads, Ren not letting go of my hand, and I saw Zach Gilligan standing there.
Shit.
Zach looked disbelieving.
He also looked angry.
Shit.
I hadn’t seen him since that night at Club. I had seen Helen, and I knew she was now with another guy, this one nice, cool and, big bonus, not a cokehead.
“Jesus, Ally,” he clipped, moving into our serene romantic secluded spot in a way that made my back go straight, Ren’s hand tighten in mine and the air around us turn heavy. Zach ignored all this and leaned deep into me. “You know, that was five hundred dollars-worth of product you made me drop in the john.”
Before I could say anything, Ren ordered, “Step back.”
Zach completely ignored Ren and kept his angry attention on me. “And Helen kicked me out. I was this close,” he held a thumb and forefinger half an inch apart, about double that away from my face, and I felt the air turn stifling, “from asking her to marry me.”
Again, before I could retort, and I had some doozies, Ren got there.
“Get your hand outta my woman’s face,” he growled.
Zach, apparently not feeling or not understanding the vibe in the air or the tone of Ren’s voice, turned his head to him.
“F*ck off,” he snarled at Ren. “Got something to say to this bitch.”
That was when it happened. And it happened so quickly, if I had blinked, I would have missed it.
And what happened was that Ren let my hand go and his shot up and out. He cupped the back of Zach’s head and slammed him face first, fast and hard enough to make a sickening thud, into our table.
His fingers gripping Zach by the hair, he pulled him back. Zach blinking and his nose bleeding, Ren brought him to within an inch of his face.
“That’s a start,” Ren whispered scarily, “Do you get me?”
“Yeah man, yeah,” Zach replied quickly.
“You see her again, you don’t know her. You get that?”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” Zach said.
“Get the f*ck outta here,” Ren rumbled and let him go, but did this by jerking his hair back so Zach’s neck bent unnaturally and he went flying.
He righted himself and didn’t look back, but lifted his hand to his nose and scurried.
I stared after him until he disappeared then forced my eyes back to Ren, who I noted did all that without leaving his seat.
Without leaving his seat.
Holy.
Crap!
“You ready?” he asked, his voice rough, which meant he was still angry. Therefore I quickly nodded.
Ren got up and pulled my seat back for me to do the same, which I did. He grabbed his suit jacket and jerked his head toward the building which was silent pissed-off Italian American badass for Get moving.
I grabbed my bag off the table and got moving.
Ren shrugged on his jacket as we went, but caught my hand tight when he was done.
I noticed that most of the other diners were dining. Only a few were looking up, and only because we were moving and caught their attention. Other than that, it seemed everyone missed the action.
Thank God for that plant.
Ren kept hold of me until he opened my door and angled me into his Jag. He got in, started her purring, pulled out and headed home. Even though the air still weighed heavily making it hard to breathe, he drove like he normally drove which was casually, a little fast, but in total control.
I sat next to him while he did it, wondering how to handle this situation. I wasn’t certain silence was best. I also wasn’t certain, since clearly my “business” had interrupted our fabulous evening, if he was mad at Zach, or me, or both, and if both, which one more.
What I was certain of, and I did not care even a little bit what this said about me, was that what Ren did was all kinds of freaking hot.
So I also sat next to Ren fighting squirming because I was all kinds of turned on.
With all this on my mind, alas, we made it home in heavy silence without me saying a word, which I decided was good. Whatever we said would be in his house and everyone knew it was better to have it out in a house, not a car. A car was too confining and if tempers flared, that was bad if the one with the temper flaring was driving.
And as you know, Ren’s temper could totally flare.
Ren was at my door before I fully folded out of the car. He helped me the rest of the way, threw my door to, and guided me up to his house, beeping the locks on his car. He let my hand go when he opened his front door but put his to the small of my back to guide me in.
I went in and dropped my bag on the couch. I turned on a light on an end table and turned to face Ren to see he was tossing his jacket to a chair.
“Honey—” I started.
He lifted a hand to me.
Shit.
The Hand from Ren.
I didn’t like it, but I thought it prudent to shut my mouth.
He dropped his hand and spoke.
“In making the decision to take you as you take me, it was not lost on me that my concerns about you doin’ what you’re doing were valid. There are going to be times, like tonight, that your work will leak into our life. Therefore it was not lost on me that I’d have to deal with that. I dealt with it. It’s over. If it’s something we need to discuss, I’ll trust you to explain that to me. But that a*shole was not a threat, just a nuisance who, from the little he said, jacked up his own life but blames you. What I’m sayin’ is, he does not deserve our time to discuss it.”
This was all good.
Really good.
Still.
“Are you angry with me?” I asked quietly.
“No, I’m angry that we had a great night, that jackass tainted it and I got f*ckin’ blood on my sleeve.”
I pressed my lips together, but I did this in order not to laugh.
I unpressed them to say, “I’ll get the Shout out.”
“Good idea,” he muttered irately.
“Can I say something?” I asked and his eyes grew intent on me.
“Any time, any place, anything we’re talkin’ about, you can say whatever the f*ck you want, Ally.”
Loved my man.
Loved him.
“That was hot,” I declared and watched his body lock.
“What?”
“No. That’s not right,” I said. “That wasn’t hot. That was smokin’ hot, and I don’t care if that makes me a freak. It was hot. You were hot. Now I’m hot. So hot, I may have an orgasm, standing here remembering it.”
To that, instantly he ordered, “Take off your dress, Ally.”
Oh crap.
Totally about to have an orgasm.
It was then I noticed the air in the room had changed.
It was still heavy.
But now it was warm.
“Now,” he demanded.
Without further delay, I crossed my arms in front of me, curled my fingers into my skirt, and pulled my dress up and over my head.
I dropped it to the floor beside me so I was standing in front of him in nothing but lacy black panties and stiletto heels.
“Now come here, and baby, if you give me shit about comin’ to me, when I get to you, I’m turnin’ you over my knee.”
This was a conundrum.
But a spanking might delay getting him inside me and at that moment, that would not do.
So I went to him.
Once there, he crushed me in his arms, his mouth slammed down on mine and his tongue thrust into my mouth.
I whimpered into his, put my hands to his shoulders and held on.
His hands went to my ass, lifted up sliding down the backs of my thighs until my legs wrapped around his hips then they went back to my ass and he started walking.
He took me down to my back on the couch with him on me.
When his lips slid to my neck, I turned my head and begged in his ear, “Need you now, baby.”
He lifted his head, looked down at me and my legs clamped around his hips at the heat in his eyes even as he slid one hand from my ass and it plunged right into my panties.
I gasped.
Nice.
“You take it missionary, Ally.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“’Cause I’m gonna f*ck you hard, baby.”
Oh God.
Yes.
“Okay,” I repeated breathily.
His mouth came to mine and his eyes didn’t leave me when he murmured, “Panties, honey.”
I let him go with only one leg, shoving down my panties on that side, cocking a knee and sliding them over and down off my foot, so he had the access he needed in the least time with the least effort I could take to give it to him.
His hand was working between us and seconds later, the tip of his tongue slid over my lips as he slid slowly inside me.
My eyelids dropped, my lips parted and all was right in the world.
He watched and I knew he entered me slowly so he could.
Because once he was in and I gave him the show he wanted, nothing went slow.
It was hard, fast, rough and amazing.
I came within minutes. I did it hard and I did it crying out his name before I sank my teeth in his shoulder.
Ren took a lot longer, but it was clear from his noises and the brutal beauty of his kisses that he enjoyed it so I gave him everything he needed with my hands, my mouth and my happy place to take him there.
Finally, he got there.
He had his mouth on my neck working me, and I had my hands under his shirt roaming his back, my mind memorizing our evening. All of it. Especially this part, his weight on me, him filling me, the scent of him, the feel of him.
Everything.
So it took a beat before I realized his body was shaking.
“Ren?” I called.
He lifted his head and I saw his smile.
He was laughing.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Jesus,” was his nonsensical answer.
As good as it felt feeling his big strong body move on me (and in me, it must be said), I didn’t get it.
“What’s funny?” I repeated.
“Only you,” he replied.
“Only me?”
“Only you would get off on me slammin’ some a*shole’s face into a table.”
I stiffened.
His hand immediately came up to cup my jaw, his body stopped shaking and his smile died clean away.
“Take me as I am,” he whispered, and I noticed his voice had that tone, his face had that look, and I melted beneath him.
“Yeah,” I whispered back.
“Love you, Ally.”
I grinned. “Love you more, baby.”
He didn’t grin.
He said, “Impossible.”
I frowned.
“If you make me cry, no sex for a week,” I declared, but my voice was husky.
“Then I better not make you cry,” he murmured, lips twitching.
“Damn straight,” I mumbled.
That was when he grinned.
Then his lips came to mine and he ordered, “Go clean up. That went fast. I wanna eat you and f*ck you again before you go learn how to bypass security systems.”
My entire body trembled.
“’Kay,” I agreed immediately.
He touched his mouth to mine, slowly slid out while watching, and said, “Meet you in bed.”
He so would.
He rolled off. I rolled the other way, got to my feet and let my panties drop down my leg. I stepped out of them and sashayed, wearing nothing but a pair of stiletto sandals, to and up the stairs.
I hit the bathroom and did as ordered.
Then I met my man in bed.
* * * * *
“Tonight, you watched. Next time we go, you watch again. The time after, you’re up.”
This was Vance.
We were standing by the driver’s side door of my Mustang in Lee’s parking garage in the dead of night, and he was being bossy.
He had also taught me sick good things that night, so I decided not to give a shit that he was being bossy.
“Right,” I agreed.
He reached into his back pocket, pulled out a small black leather pouch with a zip around three sides and handed it to me.
“Those’re yours. Picks. You buy locks at a hardware store and practice. When you’re up, I’ll be timin’ you. You got thirty seconds.”
I looked up at him and nodded but said, “I didn’t bring anything to give you.”
He gave me his shit-eating grin.
I decided to get serious.
“Appreciate you doing this, Vance.”
“The grip you got on that guy’s junk, no hesitation, bringin’ him down to his knees. F*ck. His face,” Vance replied. “Half the team’s terrified of you. Bobby’s having nightmares. I had no choice. Jules and I want more kids. Don’t wanna piss you off.”
It was clear he didn’t feel like being serious so I lifted a hand and socked him in the arm.
He lifted a hand and caught me at the back of the head.
Then he shocked the shit out of me by pulling me in and kissing my forehead before letting me go and murmuring, “You did good tonight.”
“Do you kiss Mace’s forehead when he does well?” I asked and his eyes got intent.
“Learn now, you’re a woman. This is a man’s job, not because more women don’t have the stones to do it, but because they think they need to have stones in order to do it. The way of the world, men can do shit you can’t. What you gotta remember is, you can do shit that men can’t. You play to that. You use it. I am not gonna treat you like one of the guys ‘cause you’re not one of the guys. That doesn’t mean I won’t treat you with respect. And what you learn now is, even if you get treated differently, there’s no difference. Yeah?”
This was very profound. And wise. And I’d never thought of it like that.
But I liked it.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Now I gotta get home to Jules and Max,” he muttered.
“Right,” I replied. “Give Max a cuddle for me.”
“Will do,” he said, moving toward his Harley.
“Vance?” I called and he turned back. “Really. Thanks for tonight. I appreciate it.”
“You’re a Nightingale,” he replied then finished enigmatically, “Anything.”
He roared off on his Harley and I was in my car following him when it hit me what his “anything” meant.
He was an ex-con, recovering alcoholic. And Lee had taken him on, trained him, and offered him a different life. A better life. And when he won Jules then they had Max, he got the best life there could be.
And he appreciated it.
I parked outside Ren’s, the jazzed feeling I had expiring and fatigue setting in. So I wasted no time getting in and quietly changing into a nightie, washing my face and brushing my teeth.
I slid into bed next to Ren, turned into his heat by curling into his back and snaking an arm around his waist.
He grabbed my hand, slid it up his chest and held it there.
“How’d it go?” he mumbled sleepily.
I pressed closer.
“It was righteous.”
His hand gave mine a squeeze. “Good.”
He was right.
He fell back to sleep.
Not long after, I followed him.