Playing Dirty

The woman went absolutely still. “Don’t fuck with me, Barney.” But the bartender just shook his head.

“I know better’n that, Branna,” he said. “You think I wanna end up on your shit list? I swear to God. He’s back.”

“He’s supposed to be dead,” she said.

The bartender shrugged. “I know. Turns out he was running from the feds. He’s back in town now, wanted a job back with Leo.”

“What’d Leo say?”

He shrugged. “Seems to have welcomed him back with open arms. Thought I’d better give you a heads-up, though.”

My attention was completely captivated now and I watched avidly to see what Branna would say. Turned out, she didn’t have to say anything because just then, Ryker walked in.

The breath caught in my chest. He looked different, but I couldn’t really pinpoint why. He still wore the same type of clothes—jeans, leather jacket, boots, and aviators, though I noticed the dog tags were missing. But his face was cold and absolutely devoid of emotion.

He came in the front door, it swinging shut behind him, and he paused, taking in the scene. Ryker didn’t seem to see me in the corner at all. His gaze landed unerringly on the woman called Branna.

After a pregnant pause, he walked toward her, stopping when he was right in front of her.

“Branna,” he said by way of greeting.

She said nothing … just slammed him with a right hook that made me flinch as bone met bone.

Ryker didn’t seem surprised. He took the hit well, rubbing his jaw slightly, but he didn’t back down. Turning, he faced her again.

“You’ve got some set of balls, McCrady,” she gritted out, “showing up here again after all this time.”

“Wouldn’t want to be predictable,” he said.

There was a moment of breathless tension, then she threw herself in his arms and they were kissing like two lovers who’d been parted and were suddenly reunited.

My stomach felt like someone had shot a fist into it. I couldn’t breathe, watching as Branna and Ryker kissed like there was no tomorrow.

Oh God. I didn’t know what to think as I watched from my dark corner. What did this mean? Who was this woman? I knew he was undercover, but this seemed … more than that. You couldn’t make up the kind of passion that sizzled between them. At least, I couldn’t have.

They finally came up for air, but were still wrapped in each other’s arms. The bartender had moved on, to give them some privacy I guessed. I strained to hear their conversation, but couldn’t. But did it really matter? Their faces were close together and his hands were on her ass. I felt as though I’d swallowed a lead ball.

Shrinking farther back into the shadows, I waited as Branna walked in the back and Ryker asked the bartender for something. As he waited, he turned and leaned with his back to the bar. As though I’d called his name, his eyes fell on me.

There was a beat and something passed across his face, perhaps a hint of surprise, then it was gone and he was striding toward me.

“What’s going on?” he asked when he reached my table. “How the hell did you find me?”

“Sorry to upset your plans,” I replied, my voice tight with hurt I was channeling into anger. “Malone told me where you’d be.”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?” he growled, showing not a flicker of embarrassment that I’d caught him kissing another woman.

“So I figured. Thought I’d tell you that … my dog got hurt,” I said, opting to not name McClane. “He was helping me out in a pretty big way”—hint hint—“and he’s going to be okay, but he’ll be at the vet for a few days, so I’m leaving town.”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going home,” I said, and now he should be hard-pressed not to know I was pissed. “It looks like you have someone to keep you occupied anyway.” I tossed him the truck keys. “You might need these.”

In a flash, he had me by the arm and was propelling me into the corner until my back hit the wall. He towered over me, in my space until we were almost touching. I felt his hand at my hip, pushing the keys back into my jeans’ pocket.

“Don’t do this,” he hissed. “I told you why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you did,” I said. “So who the hell is Branna and why were you kissing her?”

Ryker hesitated. “She’s … someone I used to know,” he said. “A friend.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s one hell of a friend.”

His grip on my arm tightened. “I can’t do this now,” he said. “I’m asking you to trust me. Can you do that?”

I ignored his question and asked one of my own. “Are you going to sleep with her?”

He didn’t answer, his lips pressing into a thin line. I gave a short, humorless laugh.

“Wow. Okay, whatever. I have my own problems right now, so you … do whatever you’ve gotta do.”

“Branna does some contract work for Leo,” he said. “She’s smart and dangerous. If anyone were to see through my cover, she would. It’s vital that she trusts me.”

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