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Four Seconds to Lose

Page 24

by K. A. Tucker


  “I’m not. I’m a hopeless romantic. There’s a big difference.” She smiles, showing me her perfect white teeth. “And when it comes to the mysterious Cain’s love life, yes, your friends are all extremely interested. I swear, Ben is infatuated. I don’t remember him talking about one girl so much in my life!”

  I hand her a gift bag with several bottles of wine, attempting to distract her, as bare feet pad out from the kitchen. “Cain!” Storm’s mini-me barrels into me, her little arms coiling around my waist.

  “Mia!” I chuckle to myself as I take a chunk of her golden-blond hair in my hand and give it a playful tug. She stares up at me with those innocent blue eyes, the same ones that pierced my heart the day she looked up and smiled as she toddled around the furniture in my office, enjoying her newfound mobility.

  “All right, all right. We’ll talk later . . .” Storm takes the wine with a secretive grin. “The guys are in the cave.” Slipping her arm around Mia’s shoulder, she gently swivels her daughter around and leads her back toward the kitchen. “Come, minion. Those vegetables won’t wash themselves.”

  I head down the hall of their palatial Miami beachfront house. Storm moved in here three years ago with Dan, Mia, and their friends—sisters, Kacey and Livie. That was around the same time that Storm quit Penny’s and opened up her own private acrobatics school. The day she came into my office to tell me—her fingers twisting the material of her skirt nervously, as if she wasn’t sure how I’d take the resignation of the most popular dancer at Penny’s—was the happiest day of my life.

  Storm is my shining success story. She is why I do what I do.

  Ben’s obnoxious voice carries halfway down the hall. “ . . . she was gone when I woke up, though, which sucked because damn, she had the most spectacular—”

  “Cock?” I interrupt loudly as I step into the room, slapping Ben’s shoulder as I pass by him. I’m not surprised to find the lot of them with beers in hand, playing video games. It’s how I usually find them, while the women are hanging out on one of the many decks or in another room. Though Storm calls this room Dan’s cave, there’s nothing remotely cave-like about it. Light pours in through the wall-to-ceiling windows and, aside from the tan leather sectional and chestnut-brown cabinetry, everything’s decorated in whites and grays.

  “Boss man’s here!” Ben yells as the guys burst out in a round of laughter over my well-timed interruption. “Just giving them the Mexico highlights.”

  “Embellished, I’m sure,” I murmur, though I don’t really doubt that every bit of what Ben says is true and happened exactly as described. Sometimes I wonder how his dick hasn’t fallen off yet.

  Dan rounds the couch with his large hand outstretched, a genuine smile stretched across his face. “Good to see you here, Cain.”

  “Congratulations, again. How’s the head after last night?”

  He cringes but then laughs. “Those guys are animals. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you. It’s been a while.”

  “I know. Crazy summer . . . Storm’s doing well with the pregnancy so far?”

  That light sparks in Dan’s eyes, the one that always does at the mention of Storm. Now that she’s marrying him and carrying his child, it’s like a homing beacon. “Yeah, doing well. Should find out what it is soon.”

  “Girl,” Trent—Kacey’s boyfriend and a permanent fixture in the Ryder household—announces with a smirk, adding in a “hey, Cain,” though his focus doesn’t leave the intense one-on-one boxing round with Nate.

  “Trent.” I like Trent. I didn’t like him so much when I found out who he really was, when everything about my bartender and Storm’s best friend—Kacey—came to an ugly, explosive head. To this day, I thank God I didn’t feel the need to have a background check done on him. If I had, I would have kicked his ass out of my bar.

  And probably beaten him to within an inch of his life.

  Dan casually leans over to flick Trent’s ear for that comment before shaking his head. “God help me if it’s another girl. I’m drowning in estrogen.”

  “Get a dog,” Nate suggests, followed by a deep shout of “yeah!” as Trent’s player hits the ground in an exaggerated knockout screen shot.

  “Why?” Ben snorts. “Storm will just have his balls cut off for humping everything in sight. Then, you’ll still be surrounded by estrogen, plus you’ll be stuck picking up a four-legged eunuch’s shit twice a day for the next ten years.”

  Dan shoots a crooked grin his way. “Maybe not. Storm hasn’t had you fixed for humping everything in sight yet, mate.”

  Another round of snorts and chuckles fills the room and I’m reminded of how much I’ve missed hanging out with the guys outside of Penny’s. I’ve just let myself get too wrapped up with all things club-related lately.

  I need to get a life. Ideally, one that includes Charlie.

  “A drink?” Dan offers, already reaching for the bottle of Rémy that he knows I prefer. Normally, I’d never accept any of my friends catering to my expensive taste, but Dan and Storm can easily afford it and Storm won’t have it any other way.

  “How’s the club doing these days?” Dan asks as he hands me a filled glass. “Ben told me about the metal detectors. You’ve got more scum coming in, now that Teasers is closed?”

  “Yeah . . . it’s an investment, but it’s worth it.” I take a sip of my drink.

  He nods his head slowly, a curious look passing over his face, and I wonder where this conversation is headed this time. Conversations with Dan about the club tend to head in one general direction.

  His voice lowers to say, “Starting to hear rumblings of someone new in Miami. From up north, bringing in pure street-grade heroin. Not one of these idiot gangbangers who we can usually take down in a few weeks. An organized operation. This could be big. They expect it’ll lead to a turf war with the cartel.” Dan studies me closely with his next question. “You haven’t seen or heard anything?”

  This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. I’m not the only one who had a background check done. After Storm quit Penny’s, she admitted to me that Detective Dan had made inquiries and pulled some favors, suspicious of me. It didn’t take him long to dig up my past. I may have—miraculously—avoided a criminal record for my own crimes, but I’m still tied to an ugly paper trail as it relates to my parents.

  I was only involved in the drug and prostitution scene by relation. I guess good ol’ Daddy didn’t think mixing me up with that side of the family business was a smart move, when he could make so much money off my fighting. Dan’s not stupid, though. He’s seen his share of that world. He knows it’s not built in silos—separating the dealers from the pimps from the thieves from the murderers. He knows that I’ve made all kinds of connections, whether I meant to or not. Hell, I still get approached by bookies once in a while for a big-ticket fight. Ten years later, all the way in Miami! And then there’s the fact that I’m in the business that I’m in, where I’m constantly approached with illicit propositions.

  Dan knows I could find out, if I wanted to get involved. If I wanted to risk being labeled a police informant, basically painting a target on my chest and putting everyone around me at risk.

  “I haven’t heard a thing, Dan. And you know those scumbags are not coming anywhere near Penny’s. That’s why I have the security that I do. That’s why I’m selective with who I hire.”

  Dan nods his head once. “I know, Cain. But I told the guys I’d ask, anyway.” With a heavy exhale, he quickly changes the topic, his tone lightening up. “So, tell me about this new dancer at Penny’s.”

  “The one that’s got Cain choking the chicken in his office every night?” Ben hollers, while furiously clicking keys to pummel Nate’s player in the face. “Uh-oh. Look! He’s pitching a tent already. ”

  “Fuck off, Morris,” I throw back with an annoyed chuckle. “I’m not . . .” I close my eyes
and heave a sigh. There’s no point defending myself. We’re not at Penny’s. That means the gloves are off and the jackass is just getting warmed up. Thank God he doesn’t know about last night.

  “That’s how it’s done!” Ben shouts, tossing the controller at Nate’s broad chest. “I mean, seriously, Cain . . .” Ben now turns to give me his undivided attention, shaking his head. “Such a travesty. You don’t deserve to own a club. Fuck, you don’t deserve to own a dick!”

  I know Ben’s just shooting his mouth off for entertainment purposes. We’ve had more than a few frank drunken-Ben conversations in the past, where he expressed his undying admiration for me for not taking advantage of my position.

  Still, I toss a glare at Dan, who can’t keep the smirk off his face. “Thanks, man, for bringing her up.”

  Dan lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Just surprised to hear the man of steel is finally hung up on a woman like the rest of us poor suckers, that’s all.”

  “I’m not hung up.”

  The coughs and poorly muffled laughter from the couch area confirm that no one is buying that. Hell, I’m not even buying it. After last night, my thoughts are more firmly hot-wired to Charlie than they were before. Hell, she knows most of my personal shit! For ten years, I’ve kept everything closed in. One night with her and I’m spilling my guts like a prisoner in a torture room. Only I wasn’t tortured. Far from it.

  “Charlie might give you a shot, you know. If you’d stop your nightly jerk-off sessions already and ask her to yank your—” Ben’s voice cuts of abruptly, his eyes riveted on something behind me. Dan and I turn in unison to find the subject of his crass banter standing at the entrance in a blue bikini, a veggie platter in her hands.

  Ben’s right. I am pitching a tent at the sight of that body. It’s only that much more desirable, now that I’ve been inside it.

  Now that I’m desperate to get inside it again.

  But I’m ecstatic to just see her again. I must have a stupid-ass smile on my face right now.

  Fuck it, I don’t care.

  I watch her stroll in, struggling to close my gaping jaw. “Storm asked me to bring this to you guys,” she explains, her bare feet soundless against the hardwood. Of course, Storm did. Because I’m here.

  For a girl who had to have overhead Ben’s crassness, given how damn loud he is, she’s taking it rather well. No flushed cheeks, no mortified stare, nothing. I, on the other hand, grip the back of my neck to keep from lunging over the couch to pummel Ben.

  “Hey, Charlie.” Ben’s big, dumb grin is in full force now. The guy’s so smooth around women, he probably doesn’t feel the slightest bit awkward. “When did you get here?” He certainly doesn’t feel awkward about checking out her chest.

  “Just now. With Ginger.” Leaning forward, she offers her hand to Trent. “Hi, I’m Charlie.”

  There’s a two-second delay in Trent’s response, where he simply stares at her face before he calmly lays down the game stick and his beer, and reaches forward to accept her hand with that damn smile that all the girls at the club still chatter about every time he shows up there. “Trent. Hi.”

  The handshake lasts one, two, three seconds too long and I’m grinding my teeth, watching for any skin flushing or lip licking on her part. Jeez . . . I know Trent is head-over-heels in love with Kacey, so my jealousy is completely unfounded, and yet here I am, ready to pull them apart.

  One night. Just one night with her and I’m done for.

  “Hey, Nate.” Charlie winks at the ominous teddy bear, who smiles at her before flashing a rare, wide toothy grin my way. We connect every morning with a quick phone call or text. Today, he showed up at my door. He looked ready to beat the truth out of me by the time I finally confessed.

  Rounding the couch, Charlie extends a hand to Dan. “I didn’t get to officially meet you last night, what with my passing out and all.”

  “Charlie. I’ve heard so much about you.” At least Dan has the decency not to stare at her.

  “And who’s been filling your head with lies about me?” she smoothly retorts, those beautiful wide lips of hers stretching into a grin.

  “Cain never lies,” Ben throws back with a smirk.

  Her playful eyes flicker over to me, where they rest for several seconds—an amused light dancing within them.

  I fight the urge to pull her in to me but I can’t keep my gaze from dropping to those round tits and my mouth instantly parts, remembering the softness of them against my tongue. When I look back up, Charlie’s eyes have darkened slightly.

  “Good to know.” With a wink and a firm, slow rub up and back down my arm, she turns to Dan and says, “Storm wanted me to tell you that she needs you at the grill. Tanner’s out of control.”

  With a heavy sigh, Dan mutters, “Did he bring that damn spray gun again?”

  “Yes.” Charlie giggles. “And it’s ridiculous.”

  Shaking his head, Dan smiles warmly down at her. “Okay, tell her I’ll be there shortly.”

  With my glass to my mouth, my focus trails Charlie out the door, her hips swaying teasingly. She knows I’m watching. She must know.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you, man. Wow.” Dan’s brow furrows. “A bit young, though . . .”

  “Twenty-two.”

  He blows a mouthful of air out. “Well, if you were ever to give in to an employee, I wouldn’t blame you for that one.”

  Too late. And I’m going to do anything I can to give in again. Tonight.

  “Until then, do you want me to call Mercy to deal with your little problem?” Ben asks. “She’s fantastic. And discreet.”

  I level Ben with a glare. “You’d better be fucking joking.”

  “Of course I’m joking! I haven’t touched her . . . yet.” His face splits into a wide grin.

  “Good, because I’d seriously fire your ass.”

  “Well, then . . .” Ben slaps his hand on the coffee table. “Consider this my notice.”

  By the looks that exchange between me and the others, we’re all wondering the same thing—is Ben serious?

  He winks, then offers in a more somber tone, “I landed a full-time gig at a law firm in town. Just found out this morning.”

  “Seriously, Morris?” Nate presses.

  “Yep.” Ben’s arms stretch out over his head, his hands nesting behind his neck as he sighs heavily.

  I wasn’t expecting to lose Ben so soon. “But, don’t you have another month before you get your bar exam results?”

  He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, but I aced that. I’m not worried. They’re not worried. I’ll just be considered in a probationary period until I’m official.”

  My previous annoyance with Ben instantly vanishes. I close the distance as he accepts a congratulatory slap across the chest from Nate. I offer him my hand, which he takes firmly, a glimmer of satisfaction in those blue irises. “We’re gonna miss you, buddy, but that’s amazing. You’ve done well.” He really has. After blowing his knee out and losing his shot as a star quarterback, Ben leveraged his brain—one most people wouldn’t realize he had—to put himself through law school. Now, after years at Penny’s, Ben is moving on.

  The tactless brute bows his head, a rare pensive look flashing over his face. I’ll bet he hasn’t bothered to mention it to his dad. The cranky old scrooge would somehow twist it into a failure. I think that’s why Ben is such an easy, happy guy all the time. He’s deathly afraid of ever being compared to his own father.

  “Seriously, dude, don’t go out there with that. It’s embarrassing. I’ve got a picture of Charlie onstage that I can send to your phone, if you need it while you deal with your issue in the can.”

  The moment’s over.

  chapter twenty-six

  ■ ■ ■

  CHARLIE

  I shouldn’t be here.

  �
��Ahhh . . . this is the life,” Ginger sighs, sinking back into her chair with a fresh margarita in hand. “If only we didn’t have to work tonight.”

  I grunt in agreement, taking in the stunning stone patio area that overlooks an enormous oddly shaped pool with several alcoves. The entire space is adorned with various tropical flowers. Sitting where we are, we’re completely protected from the sun with a pergola and lattice.

  “Thank God for the breeze,” Ginger adds, and my eyes follow hers to the two oversized ceiling fans affixed to the beams above us, working overtime to circulate the hot summer air.

  The sound of flames sputtering pulls my attention away to the far end, where Tanner—completing the “Cousin Eddie” look with a straw hat, black socks pulled halfway up his calves, and sandals—is demonstrating to Dan why his use of the two-handed squirt gun on a grill should be marketed. Alternating between head shakes and low chuckles, Dan finally gets Tanner to surrender his weapon and leave the grilling to him.

  To the newly appointed DEA agent.

  I shouldn’t be here.

  But I didn’t really have a choice, I tell myself. Ginger was hell bent on bringing me. When she admitted with a smile that Cain was hell bent on her bringing me, too, any hope for an argument died on my lips.

  When Storm directed me to take a tray of veggies to a room down the hall, I didn’t expect to be walking into a group of men talking about me yanking on parts of Cain. Coming from Ben’s mouth, it’s not exactly shocking, but still. I’m not sure how I kept the blush from my face. I was sure my knees would buckle for a moment when they all stopped to stare at me.

  By the look on Cain’s face, he was both surprised and very pleased to see me. By his blatant ogling, I’m pretty sure he wants more of what he got last night. That thought makes my entire body hum with excitement.

  “You okay? You’ve been quieter than usual today.” I turn to find Ginger watching me intently.

  “Yeah, fine. Just tired,” I murmur through another yawn. I feel like I could sleep for days.

  “Late night?”

 

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