Smoke (Archer's Creek Book 5)

by Gemma Weir

  His eyes are wide, his lips tense in a flat line as he pulls the condom I hadn’t even known he’d rolled on, off his dick. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I blurt out.

  Slowly, his gaze moves to me and I feel pinned to the spot, unable to move. I should feel self- conscious; after all I’m only wearing a t-shirt and I’m completely naked from the waist down. Yet right this minute I don’t care.

  “What?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say again.

  “Why did you tell me you did?” He asks.

  “Because I don’t want to want you,” I admit, the truth rushing from me.

  He tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to figure me out. “But you do want me?”

  We stare at each other, both of us sweaty and still half naked, and I’m not sure why, but I decide to take a risk. “Yes.”

  He nods, his mouth still a flat, expressionless line. For some reason I didn’t expect him to look as conflicted about my admission as I feel, but he does. There’s heat in his eyes, but his hands are clenched into tight fists and his shoulders are tense and stiff.

  “I don’t understand you,” he finally says, after what feels like an eternity.

  “Me neither,” I say, and honestly, I’m not sure if I’m admitting that I don’t understand my own behavior, or that he confuses me as much as I seem to confuse him.

  One side of his mouth twitches and I wait, hoping to see one of his smiles that I’ve seen from a distance but are rarely aimed at me. Instead, he takes a step back and looks down to his half-dressed state.

  All of a sudden, I feel incredibly aware that I have no panties on; that my pussy is on display and still wet from the sex we only finished a few minutes ago. Scanning the floor, I quickly find my shorts and grab them, pulling them on as fast as I can. I don’t know where my panties went, but right now all I’m concerned with is not being naked while Justin and I have this weird conversation.

  “Err,” I say when my shorts are back in place and the silence has become stifling.

  “What did Grits tell you about the money that’s gone missing?” He asks, his clothes all back in place too.

  Blinking slowly, I try to hide the disappointment from my face. It shouldn’t surprise me that he’s not reacting to my admission. I’ve been a bitch to him, and a dirty fuck over his desk. Telling him I lied, that I like him, really isn’t going to change anything.

  This is my own fault; I had a chance and I blew it and now he’s the one that’s not interested. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, but I ignore it, swallowing down the lump in my throat and trying to act like a decent person for the first time since we met.

  “Not much,” I say politely.

  “Okay, well, she noticed that small amounts of money were going missing for the first time about three months ago. The amounts on their own are inconsequential, but when you add them all together we estimate that they add up to nearly ten thousand dollars.”

  “Wow,” I say surprised. “And is the money being taken from the till, or the safe?”

  “Neither,” Justin says. “The money is being taken direct from the bank. When she checks the balance in the morning it’s one figure, then in the afternoon it’s different; but there are no transactions to explain the loss.”

  “I’m not sure if I can be any help. If the money’s being taken direct from the account, then whoever is doing it must be a fairly talented hacker. Big corporations like banks have incredibly sophisticated security systems in place. For someone to be able to hack an account, remove money, and then reset the account so it shows that the money was never there in the first place, that’s advanced stuff.”

  “We use the bank in town, always have,” Justin says.

  “Okay, well that could make it easier, but it’s still not stuff an amateur could do. Could you show me the online banking landing page and I’ll see if there’s anything obvious?”

  He nods and moves to the other side of the desk, bringing the laptop to life. His eyes are focused on the screen and I take a moment to look at him. His beautiful face is tense and stiff, his full lips held in a tight, firm line. I did this to him. Gone is the laughing, smiling guy he’d been the first time I’d met him, when I’d been mean just because he reminded me of my ex.

  “Here you go,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. He steps back, allowing me to slide into the chair, but I can feel his huge presence behind me and my body tingles at his closeness.

  Inhaling deeply, I exhale silently and then try to focus all of my attention onto the laptop screen. The landing page for the Archer’s Creek Municipal Bank is functional but a little basic and I manage to access the html without any difficulty. I have a working understanding of all computer languages and it doesn’t take me long to decipher the code and its basic functionality. Once I establish that nothing seems out of place, I have Justin sign in to Beavers accounts and do the same, looking into the background programming, hoping that something out of place will make itself known.

  After a while, Justin leaves the office, returning with two cups of coffee. When he hands me mine, it’s just how I like it, and for a moment I stare up at him, wondering when he found out how I drink my coffee. Greg and I were together for over a year and he never once got it right. Looking back, his unwillingness to learn even the most basic things about me should have been a red flag, but I was blinded by him and how much I liked him.

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, his eyes locking with mine for a moment, until he pointedly looks away.

  I go back to the code, moving from action to action, page to page, searching without any real idea of what I’m looking for. Give me a whole computer game and I can tell you exactly what each line of code does; but trying to understand the encrypted commands and ambiguous lines is completely out of my wheelhouse. When I finally find something, I realize that I’ve overlooked it twice, before eventually circling back round to it. The difference in the command code is so subtle I almost disregarded it, but the style of this code is odd and even though I’m not entirely sure what it means, something about it doesn’t feel right.

  “I think I might have found something,” I say, turning to look over my shoulder to where Justin is standing only a couple of feet behind me.

  “What?” He asks eagerly, rushing forward.

  I show him the command and explain the difference in style from the rest of functions. His brow furrows and it’s obvious that he doesn’t fully understand what I’m trying to explain, but he’s listening to me and trying to take in what I’m telling him.

  “So what does that mean exactly?” He asks.

  “Honestly, I’m not exactly sure. All I can tell you is that this line is different and when it comes to code different is odd.”

  He nods, then pulls his cell from his pocket and dials a number, lifting his cell to his ear without ever taking his eyes from me.

  “Hey, brother.”

  I can only hear one side of the conversation and I listen half-heartedly, my eyes consumed by him.

  “Riley found something.”

  There’s a momentary pause while he listens to whoever is on the other end of the phone.

  “She’s not sure, she just says that it’s different from the rest of the code.”

  He pauses again.

  “Yeah, I can ask her.”

  “Okay, no worries. Bye.”

  Pulling the cell from his ear he looks up, only to find me watching him. Heat flares in his eyes and my body reacts. All of the emotion from the unrestrained lust we were feeling for one another only an hour ago surges back to me in a rush of sensation so intense I almost wilt under its force.

  I suck in a ragged breath, waiting to see if he’ll react. If he’s feeling this too, or if I’m alone in this. If I’ve hurt him too much with my bitchy behavior and rejection, then this will be over before I even allowed myself the thought of it starting.

  In this moment I realize that maybe w
hat I’m feeling for him isn’t just lust. I’ve been lying to myself since the moment I met him, because he scared me, and now, I’m reaping what I’ve sewn. When he moves to step closer to me, my heart leaps, only to collapse back down to the earth with a thump when he stops himself and takes a step back.

  My eyes fall to my hands in my lap and then I turn back to the computer in front of me and start to screen shot the pages of code, highlighting the lines that seem out of place. When I set them to print, I keep my eyes fixed on the screen. “I’m printing out the pages with the lines that feel out of place, so you can have someone who knows more about this look into it. I might be completely wrong, but like I said, I’m not a hacker, and I don’t think like one. I’m sorry I can’t be of any more help.”

  “Thanks,” Justin says quietly. “That’s what Puck asked me to get you to do. He said he can have a look later if I run the pages over to him. I can drop you back at Park’s place on the way.”

  “Okay,” I say, closing down the laptop and standing up to move to the door. I don’t allow myself to look at him as I follow him back through the bar and out into the bright morning sunshine.

  Justin and I have gotten good at sitting in silence, but somehow this time it feels thicker than ever. Maybe it’s because for the first time since we met, I’m actually being honest with myself. I’m not pretending that I hate him or using my pathetic ex as an excuse not to really try.

  Both Nikki and Rosie have tried to tell me that Justin is a good guy, but I’ve ignored them and continued to believe the judgmental bullshit I’ve been feeding myself. But they were right. This morning he cared for me after I fell over, the other night he held my hand to keep me close to him in that crowd, and I’m fairly sure when I went out with the girls he came with the other guys to check that I was okay. While I’ve been trying to convince myself that he was an asshole, he’s been showing me how much of a decent person he really is. I’ve just been too stupid to see it.

  When we pull up outside Park and Rosie’s building, I try to think of something to say, something that could somehow apologize for how I’ve behaved; but no words come. Unclipping my seatbelt, I open the door and slide out. As my feet hit the floor, I close the door behind me, determined not to look back.

  When I hear the driver’s door click shut I turn, surprised to find him behind me. My lips part and my heart misses a beat when he closes the distance between us. His hand lifts to my cheek and he brushes the skin with the back of his knuckles. I hold my breath as he leans into me, his lips a hairs breadth away from mine.

  “I don’t want to want you either, sweetheart, but I do.”

  Then his lips are on me, his tongue parting mine so he can slide inside and explore my mouth. I tangle my tongue with his and this kiss is nothing like the ones we’ve shared before. This isn’t lust, it isn’t about sex. This is first truly real thing we’ve ever shared. This is acceptance and willing and hope all packed into a kiss that changes my very essence, alters who I am, and what I feel, and how I’ll live my life.

  This kiss makes the world stop, time slow, and the stars shine brighter, and it’s all because of him.

  As I press my lips onto hers, I feel the change in her. From the moment we met, Riley has been pushing me away, and now for the very first time, she’s moving toward me. I feel the moment she decides that she wants this and my mind and heart and body roar with primal victory.

  Being around her is humbling. She doesn’t want to like me, but she does. She doesn’t want to want me, but she does.

  I know women, I understand women. For me, everything about the opposite sex is easy, or at least it was until Riley; but nothing about her is easy.

  The sex earlier was out-of-this-fucking-world good and hearing the sound of my name, Smoke, not Justin on her lips was the sexiest motherfucking thing I’ve ever heard.

  I have no idea what the hell we do now. Together we’re a grenade, just waiting to explode. We bring out the worst in each other, but I just can’t stay away. Prying my lips from hers, I wait for her reaction. I’m expecting the worst, another hit to the face, or a knee to the balls, but she doesn’t lash out. Instead she just stands still, breathing heavy, her eyes closed. I should walk away, but I need to see her eyes, I need to see if there’s hate in them, or lust, or something more.

  After what feels like forever, her eyelashes flutter and her lids part revealing bright, sparkling blue eyes that are full of life. I’m not sure what they’re saying, but something fills my stomach that feels a lot like hope.

  “See you later,” I whisper, touching her cheek again, unable to leave without another fix of her. Then I walk away and climb back into the truck, not wanting to lose this moment by sticking around too long.

  I wait at the curb for her to go into the courtyard that leads to Park’s place, not starting the engine until she’s safely inside. I’m not sure what this means. Did we call a ceasefire? That kiss was different but no less confusing than every other interaction I’ve had with her.

  She’s going to Nikki and Blade’s place tonight, but I have to be at the club. I wish I could push her, see what she’ll do if I turn up there tonight and kiss her again, but I can’t risk it. Riley is nothing like the other women who clamber around me and I can’t treat her like she is. I’ve never wanted any of them the way I want her.

  I might know women, but I don’t know her, and I need to change that. I need to know her inside out, then figure out how to get her on the back of my bike and keep her there.

  The ride to Sinners Security takes twenty minutes and I swear I smile the entire fucking way. It was only one fucking kiss, but it was a hell of a fucking kiss and hopefully so much more. I know I shouldn’t be thinking past here and now, but I can’t help but picture her in my bed, on my bike, with me.

  Pulling into the lot outside the Sinners offices, I turn off my engine and push my bike onto the kick stand. The lot is mostly empty. Technically the offices are open, but on weekends only a skeleton staff are here unless there’s an issue and then it’s all hands on deck.

  When people think about bikers, they assume we’re criminals, and sure, some of the shit we do falls on the opposite side of legal, but for the majority of the time we’re reasonably law abiding and when it comes to security we know how to protect.

  Pushing in the door code, I wait for the beep and then open the door, walking through into the cavernous space. I head for Puck’s office, but he surprises me by appearing from the small kitchen.

  “Hey, you got that code?” He asks.

  “Yeah, it’s here,” I say, pulling the folded papers from my back pocket. “She highlighted the lines she thinks seem odd. She said that she’s not sure that it’s anything, but that the style felt different and it seemed out of place.”

  Puck’s eyes rake back and forth over the lines of code, his shoulders as tense as always. Puck is the definition of tightly wound and I’ve only ever seen him relaxed on a couple of occasions in all the years I’ve known him. “What did you say she did?”

  “Who, Riley?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “She writes code for video games, or something.”

  “Hmm,” he says, his eyes never lifting from the paper.

  “So, is it something?”

  “I’m not sure, but she’s right, these commands are different. They don’t have anything to do with the other lines surrounding it.” He says, his voice thoughtful.

  “So?” I ask, elongating the word in the hope that he’ll expand a little more.

  “So, Riley is a clever girl. Can you ask her to come in and show me where she found this line?” Puck asks, his eyes lifting to mine for the first time.

  A snarl escapes from my lips.

  Puck lifts his hands in the air, a slight smile spreading across his lips. “Purely on a professional basis,” he says, his voice full of amusement.

  “I’ll ask, but she’s at Blade’s this afternoon and she’s working all week.”

  “That’s fi
ne, I can work around her schedule; just let me know when she’s available.”

  I nod, my eyes still narrowed at my brother. What if she likes him? He’s smart, into computers and shit, just like she is. Can I tell him she can’t make it, keep her away from him until I’ve figured out a way to tie her to me?

  Giving myself a mental bitch slap, I shake off my ridiculous thoughts. I am not an insecure little pussy. I don’t have to worry about a woman I like, liking my brothers more. Only I’ve never felt the way I do about Riley about anyone else. She’s become an obsession. She confuses the hell out of me. She’s dismissive, uninterested, hostile even, and I am fucking panting for her.

  My dick is perpetually hard whenever I’m around her and I can’t help either being a fucking caveman or a douchebag. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way I do about her, and even though I have no idea what’s going to happen the next time I see her, I can’t fucking wait.

  I spend the entire night at the club, wishing I’d called in and gone to Blade’s instead. Hell, I almost call Park to check on her, to make sure she’s not flirting with Duke again, or bitching me out to the girls or something. But that’s a bitch ass move, so I keep my cell firmly in my pocket and spend the night scowling at every patron who even considers stepping out of line.

  By the time I watch Grits walk into Anders’ arms, it’s nearly 3am and my anxious mind is swirling with doubt and insecurity. I don’t know when the next time I’ll get to see Riley will be. Too much distance could give her an opportunity to change her mind, and I really don’t want that. Even the ride to my apartment does nothing to soothe my agitation, and by the time I’m pushing though my front door, my body is tense and riddled with uncertainty.

  I have her cell number; I stole it from Rosie’s phone the last time I was at their apartment. But it’s 3am and calling her now would look like I was treating her like a booty call, so instead, I decide to text her. She won’t see it until the morning, but there’s nothing else I can do in the middle of the night.