CHAPTER FOUR
REESE
Wednesday was the shits.
One of the girls working at The Line OD’d right after lunch, right on the stage. They called the ambulance and Gage started CPR, but she didn’t make it. We’d all known Pepper was using, but not how much, and apparently she left behind a son, too. I’d banged her the weekend before, but she never said a word about having a kid. Not that I’d given her the chance to talk much, or would’ve listened if she had tried.
I hated myself a little bit for that.
Now social services would step in and I hoped to hell she had family somewhere. We’d probably do a little fund-raiser for the boy, which would change exactly nothing because he didn’t need money—he needed a mom.
F*cking sucked.
Then we got word out of La Grande that they’d intercepted a major cartel shipment, which was farther north than we’d realized they’d started running product. This also f*cking sucked, because it meant things were heating up faster than we’d anticipated. I guess technically we’d been at war with them for six months, but it wasn’t an active war. More of a wait-and-see while making plans for payback.
Clearly the waiting game was over.
To top it all off, I’d smashed my thumb at the shop fixing my bike because I’m a f*cking dumbass. Now my thumb hurt like hell and the bike still wasn’t up and running. On the bright side, watching me cuss and punch the walls in frustration seemed to entertain the guys.
Nice to provide some comic relief, I guess.
When I pulled up to the house, all I wanted was a hot shower, followed by a cold beer and maybe some TV. We’d already had church that afternoon—just a quick meeting to cover events down south—but there wasn’t anything else going on tonight and I needed some time to myself. Normally I’d bring some bitch home for a f*ck after a crap day, but Pepper put a stop to that. She’d been the last girl in my bed.
Pretty sure she shot up in my bathroom, too, now that I thought about it.
That’s when I saw the goddamned minivan in my driveway. Shit. The Ice Princess had said she’d be out by early afternoon, and I wasn’t in the mood to listen to her prissy voice while staring at her off-limits boobs.
“God damn it,” I muttered, slamming my hand down on the steering wheel for emphasis. That sent a wave of pain shooting up from my swollen thumb and I stiffened, groaning.
Could anything go right today?
When I walked into the house I froze, disoriented. I smelled food cooking—good food. Some kind of savory chicken thing filled the air and my stomach growled. What the hell?
“London, you in here?” I called, throwing my shit down on the couch and moving toward the kitchen. No answer … but up on the kitchen counter I spotted the biggest Crock-Pot I’d ever seen full of whatever the hell smelled so good. I looked around for her, then moved toward my bedroom. The bathroom door was closed and I heard the shower running.
Still cleaning. I decided I’d forgive her for being so late, seeing as she’d cooked. I went back into the kitchen and pulled the lid off the Crock-Pot, taking a deep whiff.
Holy f*ck, that was amazing.
Thirty seconds later I had a giant bowl of bubbling chicken and dumplings in one hand and a beer in the other, ’cause I don’t believe in f*cking around when it comes to food. I went back to my room and sat back on my bed, leaning against the pillows she’d artfully arranged over the comforter. I hadn’t even known I had that many pillows.
The shower was still running. Interesting. I swapped the beer for a remote and flipped on the set. Then I took a bite and actually moaned, because the food was that f*cking good.
Christ, I’d needed this. I had no idea what’d compelled her to fix me dinner, but the woman was a goddess and I regretted every nasty thing I’d ever thought about her. The shower turned off, and I heard her singing softly to herself. My dick perked up as I took another bite.
F*ck it, because I really didn’t regret any of the nasty shit I’d thought about her … at least not the screwing-her parts, which had been the nastiest of all. The only thing better than eating this food would be if she fed it to me naked.
After a minute the bathroom door opened and London stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around her body. She saw me and screamed, which made her tits jiggle in a way that was nothing less than outstanding.
She’d been taking a shower. In my room. Naked.
I set the bowl down and rose to my feet, stalking toward her. Clearly London operated a full-service business.
Beautiful.
LONDON
Crazy day.
Not one single thing had gone right … No, that wasn’t true. The doctor’s trip yesterday had been great. All good with Jess, no signs of complications and no need to come back in for another six months unless she had symptoms. It was easy to lose perspective on how far we’d come over the years, get impatient with her for doing stupid things. The fact of the matter was she’d been born a miracle baby and now she was a miraculously healthy adult.
I needed to remember that.
That morning I’d been scheduled to finish at Hayes’s house, but I’d gotten called to the hospital instead. One of my girls was pregnant and she’d gone into preterm labor at four a.m. It looked like she’d be on bed rest for the duration, which wasn’t exactly good news for me but at least she was doing okay. Fortunately I’d gotten six applications in this week, and I’d already set up interviews with two of them. Hopefully one or both would work out—they both looked good on paper.
That left me in a bind with Hayes. I had to bring food for the potluck at six, and there was no way I’d be able finish up at his place and get back home in time to fix it, let alone make myself presentable, so I’d thrown the chicken into a Crock-Pot and grabbed the ingredients for biscuits to take with me. I figured I could clean, throw together the biscuits, and then take a quick shower before grabbing the pot and running out the door.
Was it appropriate? Not even a little, but beggars can’t be choosers and it’s not like he was paying me. Fortunately he wasn’t even home, so it seemed to be a non-issue. The last of the cleaning went smoothly enough, and showering at his place was a treat. The house might be old, but he’d gone all out in the addition and the bathroom was luxe.
Beyond luxe, actually. It was big, almost as big as one of the little bedrooms upstairs. There was a sunken tub built for two and a large, glassed-in shower stall with one of those fancy adjustable shower heads that go up and down. I’d lowered it for myself, making careful note of where he’d had it set. I’d make sure it was back where it was supposed to be when I finished, but it was still a pleasure to use a shower that was actually the right height for me.
By the time my hair was all washed and I stepped out, I was in a pretty good mood. I couldn’t wait to see Jessica in her element at the community center again. Life with her was a series of ups and downs, but I had a good feeling about tonight.
Maybe she could even get a job down there, because for all her faults she really did have something to offer those kids that a more typical young woman wouldn’t bring to the table. Maggs Dwyer might be new, but she was smart. When she looked at Jessica, she saw the same potential that I did.
My mood stayed good as I toweled off my hair, and then I looked around for my backpack and realized I’d left it in the bedroom. Humming brightly, I opened the door and screamed.
Reese Hayes was sitting back on his bed holding a bowl of food, eyes trailing down my figure speculatively. A slow, predatory smile crossed his face and he set the bowl on the bedside table, pushing to his feet.
Run! my brain screamed, but my feet didn’t move. Seriously. No movement at all, just like in one of those dreams where a giant dinosaur suddenly appears in the grocery store parking lot and you can’t seem to start running away or even throw a package of chicken thighs to create a diversion, no matter how hard you try.
Chicken thighs? Where did that come from? Why couldn’t I focus?
Hayes stalked toward me, and then one of his fingers slid down the front of my towel, right between my breasts. My nipples perked up, acting against orders. He tugged gently at the fabric, and finally my body started listening to me. I clamped down my arms against the towel, holding it firm as I took a step back.
He let me go, a strange smile teasing his lips.
“Don’t be shy,” he said. “Wet and naked’s a good look on you. Gotta say, between this and the food you’ve turned my day right around.”
Food?
I glanced over at the bowl, then realized he’d been in the chicken and biscuits. Crap. I loved it when the biscuits formed a perfect, unbroken layer across the top while the broth bubbled up along the edges. Now there’d be a gap. Of course, I couldn’t exactly begrudge the man some dinner, given that I’d essentially taken over his house without permission.
In retrospect, I think I might have subconsciously set myself up. From the beginning he’d fascinated me … He scared me, too, but he’d also gotten under my skin like a bur. Maybe if I hadn’t been so out of practice, I’d have figured it out sooner.
Holding the towel firmly, I gave him a tight smile.
“Sorry. I got delayed this morning. One of my employees is in the hospital, and I have a potluck after this. I figured you wouldn’t mind, seeing as I didn’t even charge you for the cleaning …”
A flash of pain crossed his face.
“Had an employee in the hospital this morning myself,” he said. “Hope yours turned out better than mine. If you aren’t gonna take off that towel, then you should get dressed now, I think.”
“That’s the goal,” I said dryly, deciding not to follow up on the hospital comment. It didn’t sound like a happy story.
I didn’t want to get involved.
“Can you hand me my bag?” I asked, nodding toward the backpack I’d left sitting near the door. He walked casually over to grab it, and I couldn’t help but watch the movement of his legs under those jeans. His thighs were thick, and not with fat. He had a tight butt, broad shoulders, and a back that I wanted to rub my cheek against.
When he turned back toward me, my eyes widened. I have a thing for muscular men, no question, and his body pushed every one of my buttons. Broad chest, thick arms and thighs … And his stomach? Holy cow, I just knew that under that tight black shirt would be the perfect six-pack. The man’s body was ideal—not like a twenty-year-old’s, though. No, he had the solidity that only comes with age and endurance and maturity.
My eyes had just drifted lower, below the belt, when he spoke.
“How important is this potluck thing?” he asked softly. Huh? I blinked, then glanced back up at his face. Oh, wow. He’d totally caught me checking him out. He liked it, too. I saw heat in his eyes, the kind of heat that only means one thing. This is why I shouldn’t be let out in public, I decided. I just couldn’t be trusted to handle myself.
“Why?” I asked, my throat ever so slightly dry.
“Because if you look at me like that for even one more second, I’m gonna throw you down on that bed and f*ck every part of you, starting with your tits. Unless that’s on the menu, you need to grab your shit and leave while you still can. This is the only warning you’ll get.”
I gave a strangled gasp, because there was absolutely no question he was dead serious. I reached out for my pack, which he handed over wordlessly. Then I turned and bolted back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it. I heard him laugh behind me, but there wasn’t even a hint of humor in the sound.
“Don’t think a lock could keep me out, sweetheart.”
Ha. No danger of me feeling safe in his home anyway. Five minutes later I was dressed and ready to go. I’d planned to wipe down the bathroom after I finished, leave it perfect so he’d never know I’d taken advantage of the situation. Unfortunately that ship had well and truly sailed, so I decided escape was probably more important than preventing water spots.
Like he’d notice them anyway …
Thankfully Hayes wasn’t in the bedroom when I cautiously stepped out again, and I didn’t find him in the kitchen, either. Perfect. I took my damp towel and wrapped it around the Crock-Pot, preparing to haul it to the car.
“We need to talk,” he said behind me.
I froze. Was the man a ninja? “I think we’ve talked enough. I’ve finished the job for you and it’s really time for me to get going.”
I heard him step forward, then felt his heat surround me. Big hands came to rest against the edge of the counter on either side of me and his breath whispered across my ear.
“You should come back here next week,” he said, his voice low and growly. It slithered down my spine, sending tendrils of heat swirling through me.
No, I definitely shouldn’t come back. Not even a little bit.
“I don’t think that’s such a great idea,” I said quickly. “You probably don’t remember, but I actually have a boyfriend. We’re starting to get serious.”
“I didn’t mean you should come back to f*ck, although I’m all over that idea, too, if you change your mind. Don’t give a damn about your boyfriend, either, that’s between you and him. Nope, I want you back to clean again, maybe make more of that food. It’s really f*ckin’ good, and tonight I realized just how much nicer it is to come home to a house that smells like people actually live here.”
My brain froze.
“I don’t do houses,” I said. “I mean, this was a special deal. But I run a commercial business and I use crews. I manage things and fill in—I’m not interested in being someone’s housekeeper.”
“Two days a week,” he murmured. I felt his lips brush and it took everything I had not to moan. “You come here two days a week and I’ll make it worth your while.”
He leaned into me, and I felt his hardness touch my rear so lightly I wondered if I’d imagined it. This was not a legitimate business proposition. I needed to tell him where to go. Unfortunately my mouth wouldn’t work. It was too busy imagining what licking his nipples would feel like.
Bad London!
“Your crew came in and did cleanup after that last big party at The Line, remember? Did a real good job, too.”
I nodded, still unable to speak.
“I think Gage mentioned we might be looking for a long-term contract,” he continued. “Something more regular so we don’t have to count on the waitresses to shut down at night.”
“You should really consider it,” I answered quietly. “A business like that needs to be cleaned thoroughly every day if you want to keep it up right.”
“Contract’s all yours if you do my house, too. You cook two meals a week and you’ll do some grocery shopping. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Then he whispered a number that made my eyes widen. That was pizza money and then some.
“That per visit or per week?”
He laughed, and we both knew he had me.
“Per visit,” he said. “But you work around my schedule. I can be flexible, but I don’t want you out here cooking on nights I won’t be around.”
“Why don’t you just get one of your club girlfriends to do it?” I asked, wondering if I’d lost my mind. But having my crews seven days a week out at The Line? That would add up fast … The club paid top dollar, and like I said—they paid it in cash.
“Because they’re little girls with dreams and plans and bullshit,” he said, a hint of humor in his voice. “You’re a grown-up. You know this doesn’t end with wine and roses, whatever happens between us. When I don’t need you anymore, you keep the shifts at The Line so long as things stay drama-free. Got me?”
“Nothing is going to happen but cleaning and cooking,” I said quickly. “I have a boyfriend.”
Hayes pressed forward into me, and I felt the hard heat of him all along my back, so hot I thought my spine might melt. His erection dug into my bottom and I bit my lip to distract myself—otherwise I’d start grinding back against him like a cat in heat. Then he kissed my neck, tongue tracing along my jaw, and his teeth caught my ear. I moaned, desire twisting up from between my legs, swelling my breasts and hardening my nipples.
“Unless you plan on skipping your potluck, time to go,” Hayes whispered, giving his hips a slow twist. “And next time you see your boyfriend? Tell him I said hi.”
FRIDAY NIGHT
“Everything okay?” Nate asked, softly ending our kiss. We were at his place and I’d had a couple of glasses of wine, along with the very nice steak dinner he’d cooked for me. Now we were out on his back deck, me on a lounger and him on me, legs tangled together in the warm summer air.
This was it. Tonight we’d be having sex.
Why wasn’t I more excited about this? Guilt.
“I guess so,” I said, running a hand up and around his neck. Studying his face, I tried to smile but it felt all off.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling away.
“Nothing.”
He snorted, then flopped down on his back next to me.
“You can’t lie for shit, Loni,” he said. “Just spit it out, okay?”
I sighed, but figured if I really wanted to build something with this man, I owed him the truth. “I felt very attracted to someone else this week and now I feel guilty and horrid.”
I don’t know what I expected—maybe that he’d be upset? Nate didn’t even blink.
“Did you do anything about it?”
“No,” I replied. “I didn’t. But I wanted to.”
“Who was it?”
I swallowed.
“Reese Hayes,” I said slowly. “And he wants me to keep coming out to his place to clean. He offered me a really good cleaning contract for the MC’s strip club, too.”
Nate frowned, but he didn’t blow up at me. In fact, I couldn’t read him at all. Rolling over, I leaned up on my elbow and reached down hesitantly to trace the lines of his face. He seemed lost in thought, and I wondered if I’d ruined everything.
I hoped not.
Nate was perfect for me—sexy and smart with a good job and plans for the future. And I wanted him physically, there was no question about that. We’d been making out for ten minutes and my panties were soaked, but lying was no way to build a relationship.
“C’mere,” he said, sitting up. Then he caught my hand and pulled me to my feet, gesturing toward a deck chair. I sat as he handed me my glass of wine. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I really blew it, didn’t I?” I asked hesitantly. I felt moisture prickling my eyes. Why had I been so stupid?
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Did you? You say you didn’t do anything.”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “I got the hell out. But I don’t feel right sleeping with you unless I’m honest.”
“Do you actually want to sleep with me? Or do you want Hayes?”
“I want to sleep with you,” I said firmly, because it was true. “I think maybe I’ve gone so long without sex it’s making me crazy. I like you a lot, Nate. I can see us together in the future and it’s a good thing. I don’t want to mess that up before it even starts. But I’m not sure where we even stand. Are we exclusive? I realized this week that we’ve never even talked about it. Maybe we should.”
His gaze pinned mine, eyes assessing.
“We aren’t exclusive,” he said finally, and my heart clenched. “So I don’t have any right to say you did something wrong. But I’d like to be exclusive. What would you think of that?”
“Have you been seeing anyone else?”
“Not for the past couple weeks. But I won’t lie—up to that point I was still going out on the occasional date. And I think it’s normal—even healthy—to experience attraction toward other people. Just because you’re in a relationship doesn’t mean your body turns off.”
Well, that wasn’t exactly romantic. I’m not sure why I felt so let down … It wasn’t like I’d expected a declaration of undying love. In fact, it should’ve made me feel better, because obviously I hadn’t done anything too heinous. Not if he’d been seeing other women up until two weeks ago.
“So where do we go from here?”
Nate laughed.
“Bed, hopefully,” he said. “I want to be with you, Loni. Exclusively. But only if you want that, too. We’re both adults here, and I’d like to think we’ve outgrown our romantic delusions. Being with you makes me happy and I can see a future for us. If that’s how you feel, I’d love to be with you.”
Now my heart clenched in a good way. I smiled at him and he grinned back, reaching forward to catch my hand. Lifting, he kissed my palm.
“Of course, if you insist on just using me for sex, I’ll make the best of it.”
I burst out laughing as he pulled me up and caught me in a long, hard kiss. This time it felt right, like a bubble had popped and whatever lingering guilt and weirdness I felt about Reese evaporated. I dug my fingers into Nate’s beautiful hair and gave myself over to the sensation of his tongue exploring my mouth.
So what if Reese was utterly lickable in every way? He wasn’t real, not like Nate. Reese wanted a quick roll in the sheets, no strings. Nate wanted a partner.
My boyfriend was perfect. I didn’t need—or want—anyone else.
Parenting sucks.
My phone started blaring Jessica’s ringtone thirty seconds after we fell into bed, Nate’s leg thrust between mine and his hands burrowing under my bra. I ignored it because she was eighteen years old and she could darned well survive on her own for an hour or two.
Then the phone rang again.
Nate groaned.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you should check it?” he said. “Could be an emergency.”
“She better be dying,” I said with a scowl, reaching out for it blindly and almost knocking over Nate’s bedside lamp in the process. I found the phone right as it went to voice mail, flopping back on the bed and staring at the little screen in disgust.
Then Nate’s phone went off.
“What the hell? I’m not on call this weekend. If I have to go in to work, someone’s getting shot tonight,” he muttered, climbing over me as he grabbed for his shirt, digging through the pockets.
“Guess that’s what we get for trying to have a real date,” I said, feeling a deeply inappropriate laugh fighting to escape. Nate just looked so … frustrated. Poor man.
“I wonder if I can get disability for blue balls?” he said, grabbing the phone and answering it. “Evans here.”
He stalked off to the bathroom as I looked back at my own phone. Might as well see what fresh trouble Jessica had gotten herself into. There were two missed calls, one from Jess and one from Mellie. No messages. Great. I hit the callback button and Jessica answered.
“Loni, I need you to come and get me,” she said, sounding defiant. Fantastic—I recognized that tone. Jess had gotten herself into trouble and she didn’t want to admit she’d made a mistake, so she was going on the attack.
“Where are you?”
“Out at the Reapers clubhouse.”
I froze. “What are you doing out there?”
“Just come and get me,” she said, hanging up the phone. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Nate stepped out of the bathroom, his face a mixture of annoyance and apology.
“I have to go in,” he said. “Apparently we had two guys on work release from the jail walk off this afternoon. Not violent offenders, but it’ll be a PR nightmare if the paper gets hold of it before we’ve got them back in custody.”
“Jessica’s got herself in trouble again, too,” I said, sighing. “Some date. We can’t catch a break, can we?”
He shook his head, and then I started giggling. He glared at me, a reluctant smile crossing his face.
“I think the universe is determined to keep me from getting laid,” he said finally.
“Would love to say you’re imagining that,” I told him, pulling on my shirt. “But I think you might be right. Call me tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Shitty timing tonight.”
He stepped into me and I wrapped my arms around him in a long hug. It turned into a kiss that didn’t exactly help the situation. Nate might not be Reese Hayes, but he was here and he was mine and I wanted to have sex with him. Instead I tugged free and reached for my jeans.
Like I said, being a parent sucks.
My mood was ugly as I drove out to the Reapers clubhouse for the second weekend in a row. Sure, Nate and I had managed to end our date with a laugh, but I’d just about had it with Jess and her games.
Reese Hayes pissed me off, too.
He’d promised Jess wouldn’t be allowed back into the clubhouse, and I’d scrubbed his stupid toilets to seal the deal. Apparently his promises didn’t mean shit, because here we were again. That’s when my phone rang again. I grabbed it, answering without even looking to see who it was.
“Got your girl here,” Hayes’s voice purred in my ear. “I’m taking her over to your house. She says you’re on a date. Think you can ditch lover boy long enough to meet us?”
“You don’t need to do that,” I said, frowning at myself. Of course he’d call being all helpful right after I’d been thinking bad things about him … “I’m headed out to the Armory right now. I’ll grab her there.”
“Already in the truck,” he said. “We’re having a nice little chat along the way—I’m explaining what the words ‘stay the hell away’ mean. See you in a few.”
He hung up on me and I groaned. Jessica would pay for this. I. Was. Done. Done. I couldn’t keep fighting her—if the girl was truly determined to destroy herself, I couldn’t stop it.
The realization hit me so suddenly that I swerved the van and nearly went off the road.
I couldn’t control Jess and I needed to stop trying.
Holy cow. That changed everything.
My job had been to raise her and I’d given it my all, but the little brat was actually right about one thing. Legally she was an adult. I could offer her advice and make sure she had access to health care, but I really couldn’t stop her from destroying herself.
The thought was both terrifying and liberating.
Implications swirled through my brain as I pulled up to my little house, which was located right on the edge of town, near Fernan. I could be free now … Free to move on with life. Free to stop living my entire life around one young woman’s whiplash hormones and emotions and crazy mood swings.
Shivering, I wondered if that made me a horrible person, because my overriding feeling on this was relief.
I parked next to Reese Hayes’s big black truck. Light blazed through the windows of my place, a 1950s cinder block with three tiny bedrooms, one bath, and zero character. I’d grown up in it with Amber, who’d come to live with us when her mom went to prison. In some ways it was more Jessica’s home than mine, because she’d been there on and off since birth. I’d only moved back in six years ago when Mom had passed on. She’d had a heart attack, right after Amber’s near-fatal overdose. Suddenly I’d been left alone with a child who needed a real parent, one who knew what she was doing.
Instead she got me.
I heard voices as I approached the door, which was open a crack. (The frame had swollen up last winter and never quite gone back to normal, so you really had to fight to close it all the way. It was sandwiched on the repair list between fixing the car and replacing the oven.)
“Your cousin deserves better than this,” I heard Hayes saying, and I couldn’t help but smile. Glad someone noticed my efforts. “If she’s smart, she’ll kick you out.”
“She’ll never kick me out,” Jess declared, and her voice sounded a little smug. A little slurred, too … Had she been drinking? Probably. “She’d feel guilty. She’ll always take care of me because she has to—you don’t know shit about us.”
He snorted.
“You think she takes care of you out of guilt?” he asked. “Nope—she loves you, although I can’t quite figure out why. You need to decide what you want to do with your life, because you can’t just drain her dry forever. Sooner or later she’ll be done with you.”
His words sounded so close to my own thoughts it was almost creepy. It also made me feel guilty, because the statement was so cold and hard. Not to mention true.
“It’s none of your business.”
“London is my business, little girl,” he said, and his tone was anything but nice. “I have plans for her, and they don’t include her crying over your bullshit. Don’t piss me off.”
Yikes. I pushed through the door.
“Hey, Jess,” I said, spotting my young cousin. She’d flopped back on the couch, one arm draped melodramatically over her eyes like a silent movie heroine. Clearly, her life was simply too dreadful to tolerate.
“Make him go away,” she muttered. I glanced over at Hayes, who leaned against the little bar separating the living room from the kitchen. His eyes heated when they touched me, and I wondered what exactly he meant when he said he had plans for me … No, I took that back. I really didn’t want to know what he meant. I just wanted him gone.
No, you want him in bed, my brain insisted. You want more kisses like the one he gave you at the Armory.
Unacceptable. I ignored Jess, walking over to him, determined to take control of the situation.
“Thanks for bringing her home,” I said, forcing myself to be polite even though—like usual—he simultaneously scared the crap out of me and turned me on. I also resented the fact that he’d invaded my space, which made no sense at all considering he was only trying to help out. Of course, it could be the fact that I was still a little worked up from my makeout session with Nate. Hayes was just so big and rugged … Every time he moved, his arms flexed, and I wanted to wrap my hand around his bicep and feel those muscles working.
Snap out of it!
“I’ve got things from here,” I told him.
He jerked his chin toward my teenage drama queen.
“You sure about that?” he asked. “Kid needs a wake-up call.”
“I got it,” I repeated. “Let me walk you to the door.”
He snorted, then pushed himself off the counter.
“Gee, thanks, Pic, sure nice of you to bring her home. You wanna sit for a bit, maybe have a drink?” he muttered sarcastically as I pulled the door open. I rolled my eyes at him.
“I’ve already got all the drama I need,” I said, unable to stop a rueful smile. He didn’t smile back. Nope. He just looked at me for long seconds, something heavy and tangible growing in the air between us. I could almost see the wheels spinning in his head. Then he shook his head slowly, as if making a decision.
“I don’t do drama, sweetheart.”
Hayes stepped toward me and I bit back a startled squeak as he stalked across the floor, the ancient carpet allowing him to move silently, like some kind of great predator.
Please go out the door. Please go out the door. Please go out the door!
He didn’t go out the door. He came to a halt about two inches from me, then reached over and caught the back of my head, burrowing his fingers into my hair. Then Hayes tugged me toward him, fingers tightening almost painfully. I stopped breathing as he lowered his head to mine.
His lips brushed across my cheekbone and I shivered. I swear to God, if he’d touched me between my legs it couldn’t have felt better than that slight whisper of sensation.
I wanted him more than Nate, I realized. A lot more.
“You have fun on your date?” he asked, his voice low and heated. “Jess gave me all the details on the way back. She thinks your deputy boyfriend is a douche. Have to say I agree. Nate Evans is a pissant little shit.”
“I know you’re talking about me!” Jessie yelled, startling me so much I jerked in his hold, hair pulling painfully. I’d sort of forgotten about her playing Camille on the sofa. “Stop telling lies about me. I’m going to my room.”
She threw herself off the couch and stomped down the hallway, snorting and shaking her head. Probably just as well—she was self-absorbed enough that she obviously didn’t even notice what was happening between me and Hayes. Best to keep it that way.
His other hand wrapped around my waist, tugging me deep into his body. His hips pushed into mine suggestively and I felt the coiled strength in his arms. My nipples hardened (traitorous little bitches) and my eyes widened.
Hayes offered a knowing smile.
“Your girl told me he’s no good for you,” he said. “Of course, that might just be because he arrested two of her friends last week. Let one of them off, booked the other. Girl who walked free was real pretty, too. He tell you about that?”
“Why would he?” I gasped as his hand slid down my rear, fingers cupping and tightening on me. He tilted my head as casually as if I were a doll, studying my mouth. Nate, I reminded myself frantically. Less than an hour ago you were in bed with your boyfriend. Good guy, not a thug, unlike some. “He arrests people all the time.”
“You know the sheriff’s a good friend of the club?” he asked, his voice mesmerizing. I shook my head as much as I could, wondering where he was going with this. “He and I like to get together every week or so, share a beer. He’s got lots to say about your boy.”
“Nate’s not a boy.”
Hayes’s lips ghosted across mine, and then he sucked my lower lip into his mouth. My legs clenched and in that instant I wanted him far more than I’d ever wanted anyone else. More than Nate, more than my ex … more than my high school boyfriend who took my virginity in a frantic, pawing frenzy when I was seventeen years old at a party out at Hauser Lake. I wanted that big, hard weapon of his deep inside me, spreading me open and pinning me down and making me scream until my voice broke.
I needed to get rid of him and go talk to Jessie.
Call Nate.
Be a good girl.
“He says Deputy Dick has problems following the rules,” Hayes murmured, pulling free of my mouth. His lips traced along my jaw, nipping and sucking. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything, because all I could think about was ripping off his clothes and jumping him.
No! Bad London!
“He also says there’s been several complaints about him harassing young girls. Nate ever mention any of that to you? How about Jessica? She have any problems with him?”
His words hit me like a slap across the face, waking me up.
“Shut your mouth.”
He pulled back, his eyes cool and calculating … The hard length against my stomach stayed hot, though. And the hands still holding me captive against him?
They burned.
“Maybe you should learn a little more about your boyfriend before getting too involved.”
“Like you have any room to judge?” I hissed, thinking of the girls I’d seen out at the Armory. “Jess doesn’t like Nate because she doesn’t like me having any kind of life outside of her. Just an immature teen being selfish—it doesn’t go any deeper than that.”
“I don’t f*ck anyone unless they want me to,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “You sure Natie-poo can say the same thing? You seem to think I’m the enemy, but I’ve always been straight up with you. I’m straight up with everyone I stick my cock into.”
“You aren’t sticking your …” I clenched my teeth, because I didn’t let myself use words like that. I wouldn’t let him win by tempting me to, either.
“Cock,” he said, relishing the word. “I want to stick my cock into your p-ssy. Don’t worry—I’ll get you nice and ready first. Open you up with my fingers, make sure you’re so wet and hot that when you wrap around me, it’ll feel like I’m f*cking a goddess because you’re goddamn perfect, London. I can’t wait to feel your cunt squeezing me. Lick your *, taste you … It’ll be good between us. You know it will.”
My knees weakened—like, weakened for real. Not just a figure of speech. I literally wanted Reese Hayes inside me so badly I had trouble supporting my own weight, which was a huge problem. Then his hand squeezed my butt almost spasmodically, and I saw a hint of sweat start to bead on his forehead.
If Reese Hayes wanted me even half as much as I wanted him … Stop thinking about it! I needed him out of here. Now. Before I did something really, truly insane like drag him back into my bedroom and ride him until I completely forgot about Nate.
The man I’d almost had sex with less than an hour ago.
Oh. My. God. When had I become such a faithless slut?
I put up my hands and shoved against his chest—hard—until he let me go. Reese stepped back, holding up his hands, a mocking smile on his face. He obviously saw right through me. My eyes darted away, which was a huge mistake because they caught on his jeans instead. The giant bulge in his pants made me feel even more unsteady, everything melting and mixed up deep inside.
How could this be? Why could a man I didn’t even like drive me crazy like this? Make me doubt Nate, who’d never done a thing to make me suspect him?
You. Have. A. Boyfriend.
I rubbed my face with one hand, leaning back against the wall for support.
“Just go,” I told him, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead I stared at the door, pointedly. “Thank you for bringing Jess home.”
Hayes laughed harshly, the sound a rough rasp along my spine.
“Sleep tight,” he said, tapping the tip of my nose with his finger. Then he casually strolled out the door to his truck, as if he owned the place. I watched him, completely unable to look away from that beautiful butt of his. Why was he so helpful and hateful at the same time? And who was he to imply nasty things about Nate? I didn’t believe it for a minute—Nate was a total gentleman, and if the sheriff wasn’t happy with him, he could just fire him. Hayes was a tainted source. Nobody even pretended the Reapers were on the up-and-up, so why he thought he could get away with making accusations like that I couldn’t imagine.
I shoved the front door shut hard, wood scraping as it settled into the warped frame. Loud music burst suddenly out of Jessica’s room, pushing me over the edge. Stalking down the hallway, I grabbed her doorknob.
Locked.
I pounded on the door and yelled at her, “Open up, Jess! We need to talk.”
Long seconds passed and the music got louder. Oh my God, was she really doing this? I thought my head might explode, I had so many conflicting emotions swirling around inside. Enough. I prowled through the kitchen and out the side door. The electrical panel was mounted on the wall right next to it. I ripped the small metal door open, slamming the breakers to the side.
Instantly the house fell dark. And silent.
Hah!
I probably shouldn’t have enjoyed it quite so much, but it was the first thing that’d gone right for me that night. Then I stomped back in, bashing into the stove top with my hip. Ouch. I rubbed the small hurt as I jerked open the junk drawer. Slight miscalculation, I realized, peering down at it in the darkness. I should’ve grabbed the little flathead screwdriver I’d need to pop Jessica’s lock before cutting the power. I dug my phone out of my pocket, flipping on the flash-light app. There it was.
I snatched the tool and stomped back to Jessica’s room.
“You going to let me in?” I asked.
“No!” she yelled. “You can go to hell! You have no right to tell me what to do! I’m an adult!”
My blood pressure rose. “My house, my rules. Open the damned door.”
“F*ck you!”
I growled, sliding the tiny screwdriver into the hole in the knob, popping it open easily enough. Wasn’t the first time I’d had to break into her room.
I opened it to find Jess glaring at me by the light of a candle. “I asked you not to burn things in here,” I said, even more frustrated than I’d been before. She’d nearly set the place on fire a couple of months ago. “I don’t want to die in my sleep because you like candles.”
“F*ck. You.”
“No, f*ck you,” I snapped back at her. Jess froze, because I didn’t cuss. Not that I couldn’t—I’d just made a conscious decision when I first took custody of her not to set a bad example with my language. So much for that. “I’m about done with your shit, Jessica. You think you’re an adult? Fine. Starting this month you pay rent. You follow the rules or you’re out on your ass. How’s that for treating you like an adult?”
She gaped at me, then quick as a snake she grabbed a picture frame off her dresser and threw it at me. I ducked as she started screaming, darting out of the room and slamming the door behind me.
What the hell had just happened?
Another crash hit the wood behind me and then another. The kid must be tearing apart her room. I heard yet another shriek, then the door flew open. Jess stood there, bag in one hand and her phone in the other.
“You can go f*ck yourself,” she hissed, pushing past me to stomp down the hall. “I don’t need you.”
I followed her, a detached part of my brain observing that she really needed to expand her vocabulary.
“And how—exactly—do you think this will play out?” I asked her, crossing my arms in determination.
Jess ignored me, jerking open the front door and marching out across the porch. Then she started down the driveway, frantically texting as she kicked the occasional rock out of her path.
Just like her mother, I realized. I should go after her, make her stop.
No.
I should make sure that candle was out and then I should go to bed. Why keep fighting? She’d come home sooner or later. She wants to be an adult? Let her figure it out for herself. She just saw the doctor, she should be safe enough …
So instead of chasing down the girl I’d spent the last six years raising, I poured myself a glass of wine and drank it, pondering how I’d lost control of my life.
Nate. Reese. Jessica and Amber.
Right now I didn’t want to see or talk to any of them.
Defiantly, I poured a second glass, followed by a third. Then—feeling warm and giddy and relaxed for the first time in forever—I called my college roommate, Dawn, and we talked for two hours, laughing like we were still twenty years old. By three in the morning I still hadn’t heard anything from Jess, but for once I didn’t care. I just collapsed into bed, reveling in the peace and quiet.
It was fantastic.
You know, there’s a party game I’ve played before, where people try to decide where they’d go or what they’d do if they could travel back in time. Some people say they’d go back and meet Jesus, or kill Hitler, or talk to Albert Einstein … But if I could go back and change one thing, it’d be the fact that I went to bed that night without finding my girl first.
Instead, I’d use my time machine to smash that damned wine bottle and chase Jessica down the road. Stop her. Find some way to convince her that she deserved better—more—than following her mother’s path.
But did I do it?
No, I went to sleep and didn’t get up until nearly noon on Saturday. Then I went to the gym, following my workout up with a pedicure. I felt all empowered about it, too, because I knew she’d be back.
Only Jessica never came back.