Becoming Rain

by K. A. Tucker

  I can only hope it’s harsh enough to make him leave this life behind for a new one. An honest one that he can be happy with.

  I focus on the moss growing between the stones by my feet, unsure of what else to say except, “The world needs rain.”

  “Well, I have you. Does that count?” When I dare raise my head, I find that his eyes aren’t on the trees or the pagodas. They’re on me. On me leaning against the arbor, on my long pencil skirt, on the low-cut tank top peeking out beneath my jean jacket, on my neck. “You’re not wearing your necklace today. You always wear that.”

  My hand goes to my chest as I feign shock. “Oh, wow, I can’t believe I forgot that. I never do.”

  “You almost done that with sandwich?” Luke peers up at the sky, squinting slightly as several drops land in quick succession on his forehead. “I think that downpour is coming sooner than we thought.”

  “You afraid of getting a little wet?” I tease, wrapping half of my lunch back up and zipping it into my purse. I know he’ll eat it later.

  “Are you?” I see the gleam in his eyes as he stands and my stomach explodes in a ball of flutters. Suddenly I feel like prey that’s about to be stalked, though I’m guessing Luke’s intentions are very different from that of, say, a lion stalking a gazelle.

  Like a giddy teenager, I take off around the corner, weaving through the bushes and trees that I’m quite sure visitors are not allowed to touch, let alone run through. I make it all of fifteen feet before strong arms rope around my body and pull me down. Luke’s body breaks our fall.

  “Well, this is kind of nice.” He peers up at the low-hanging bush that forms a thick canopy over us with a smirk. “Look at that. We’re totally hidden.” And then suddenly he has me on my back, pinning my arms down above my head with one hand. He’s right—we’re in a low-ceilinged lair, layers of broad-leaved branches cocooning us in a long, long tunnel.

  Invisible to the unsuspecting eye.

  The rain intensifies, and even under this protection, more and more droplets find their way between the overhang to land on us. Thank God I was smart enough to bring a nylon purse here and close it before I dropped it and took off. “Wow, it’s really coming down now. And it’s a cold rain. That can’t be good for your—”

  Luke shuts me up with his mouth, shifting my thighs apart to fit against my body just right. I’m vaguely aware of the wet chill against my bare legs as Luke hikes my skirt up, until it’s pooling around my waist.

  This is exactly what wasn’t supposed to happen today. But now that it’s started, I can’t stop it.

  I don’t want to stop it.

  “You good with this?” he whispers as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans. I answer by intentionally stretching my thighs apart. The move makes him groan into our kiss, breaking free just long enough to tear the foil off a condom wrapper that he smoothly dug out from somewhere while I was writhing wantonly beneath him.

  I hold my breath as fingers push my panties aside and I feel him lining himself up to slide inside me. There’s no foreplay this time and I’m okay with that. Just looking at him is foreplay right now. I haven’t stopped thinking about being with him again since—

  “Hello?” a reedy female voice calls out.

  Our mouths break free, and we lock wide eyes. From this vantage point, all I can spot are a pair of black-and-white polka-dot rain boots. I’m guessing the woman can’t see us. I’m hoping she couldn’t hear us. We both press our lips together and keep quiet and still as she calls out, “Hello?” again.

  A long moment later, the rain boots begin shuffling down the path at an easy pace. I see my navy purse dangling next to them. “Shit, she has my camera and my phone and—” My words are cut off with a gasp as Luke pushes into me, his mouth against my ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll go get it back in a minute.”

  “Only a minute?” I tease between ragged breaths. My eyes close as he fills me completely, until the raindrops don’t graze my face anymore, and the branches don’t scratch at my legs, and the cold, wet ground doesn’t touch my skin.

  Until I’m consumed by the feel of Luke.

  ■ ■ ■

  “Thank you so much. I must have set it on the bench and somehow forgot it when it started raining.” I check inside to find everything there, including half a sandwich.

  “Eating is expressly forbidden in the gardens, you know.” Black-and-white polka-dot rain boots woman—the same woman who smiles and waves when I come here—now peers over her glasses at me, her tight bun making her look all the more severe.

  “Oh, I know. That’s just there for later.”

  “Right.” A sniff of disapproval escapes her as her eyes trail down my clothes—soaking wet. That’s fine. I was in the rain, without a proper rain jacket or umbrella. That’s what happens.

  “Well, thank you for keeping it safe.” I don’t look back once as Luke and I walk hand-in-hand back to the parking lot. That’s when Luke bursts out laughing.

  “It’s not that funny.” But I can’t keep the smile off my face.

  “Actually it is. You should see yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not looking so spectacular right now, either.” That’s a flat-out lie. Even with his hair plastered against his forehead and neck in wisps, and his shirt clinging to his body, blood still races through my limbs every time I think about touching him.

  “But at least I’m not covered in dirt.” Reaching behind me, he begins picking off leaves and grass. Some twigs. “I guess rain doesn’t make everything clean, does it.”

  “Shit.” I peer down at the back of my skirt. It looks like I was rolling around in mud, which is basically what I was doing. “Do you think she knew?”

  He laughs. “I’m guessing she has a pretty good idea.”

  “Awesome.” I shake my head but smile. “I guess I won’t be doing my next photography assignment here.”

  Chapter 43

  ■ ■ ■

  LUKE

  I interlace my fingers through Rain’s as we weave through a thick crowd at The Cellar, the deep bass vibrating through my chest as usual. Though I’ve taken plenty of women out, I’ve never brought one in.

  But Rain’s different.

  “Trust me, there’s no need to be nervous. You’re gonna love Rust.”

  Her broad smile sprouts those sexy dimples. “If he’s anything like you then I don’t doubt it. I just hope he likes me. I mean, he’s basically your dad.”

  “He’d have to be insane not to love you.” She’s wearing dark red lipstick tonight. I can’t wait to take her home and let her cover my body with it, something I normally never like.

  Passing the bar, I catch Priscilla watching us from behind a wall of customers. I’m sure she’s figured out by now that it’s over between us. I’d be surprised if she cares. A quick glance down sees Rain’s big blue eyes in that general direction. I wonder if she’s put two-and-two together.

  I speed up, passing by the stocky bouncer watching over the VIP section to land in our typical booth. “Rust!”

  “Well . . . well . . .” As usual, Rust’s on his feet immediately, patting my back as he always does, before turning his attention to Rain. “So you are the lady stealing all of my nephew’s time lately.” I don’t blame him for doing a lightning-speed appraisal of her. I did too, when she stepped out of her condo in this creamy, tight lace dress, the sleeves long but the dress short enough to give me an instant hard-on the minute she climbed into my SUV.

  She dips her head, smiling. “Not all of it.” Eyes dart to me, twinkling. “Some.”

  “Please.” He holds an arm out toward the booth. Rain slides in, spiking my adrenaline yet again as I see those mile-high legs in full view. “Drinks?” Rust snaps his fingers at a nearby waitress while pouring a glass of vodka from the bottle he never sits down without.

  As Rain gives her orde
r, Rust is busy flashing approving eyebrows my way. That’s a good start. “So, Rain, Luke tells me you moved here from D.C. not long ago?”

  They go back and forth for the next fifteen minutes, Rust asking her questions about her life, her family, her plans. She answers him with the grace and ease of someone who’s practiced the words, no signs of the nerves she told me about earlier.

  Suddenly, Rust squints as if thinking hard. “You know, you look familiar. I can’t quite figure it out.”

  “Do I?” She frowns at me. “I don’t know why I would. I just moved to Portland.”

  “You saw her that day at the garage.”

  His forehead furrows deeper. “Yeah, but . . . have you been here, to this club?”

  “Uh . . .” She glances around the space. “Yeah, actually. I think I may have come here once.”

  “Really? Hell, we could have been here at the same time,” I say.

  She shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t know. My brother recommended a couple of places and I checked them out. Didn’t really stay long. You know, on account of not knowing anyone.”

  Rust is watching her over his drink in that way he has, when I know he’s weighing someone. And I’m watching him watch her, not liking it.

  Which is probably why none of us notice the irate Russian suddenly hovering at our table. No warning. No hello. Just his beady, calculating eyes leveling Rust with a glare that makes me nervous. I instinctively rope an arm around Rain’s shoulders and pull her into me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me, the question so absurd it’s almost laughable. When I don’t answer, he clarifies with, “I didn’t see your Porsche parked outside.”

  He’s still bitter at me for shutting him down at Gold Bonds after the Ferrari deal. “No, you didn’t.” A small part of me has wondered if Vlad had something to do with the jacking, just to be a dick. Rust told me not to say anything, but I can’t help myself. “It’s actually in the police impound, being processed for evidence after some asshole stole it. Would you know anything about that?”

  Vlad’s eyes bulge momentarily before he composes himself.

  Rust sighs. “Vlad, what brings you here?” By Rust’s expression, he’s not surprised by the visit in the least. He waves for another glass and then slides in, making room for the asshole.

  Vlad answers Rust in Russian, his tone cold and cutting. “I heard about the SUVs.”

  Shit. The deal with Aref. This clearly isn’t a social call.

  Rain’s fingers dig into my leg, looking up at me questioningly. She must sense the tone. Russian doesn’t sound poetic at the best of times. Angry Russian sounds downright scary.

  Rust takes his time, sucking back a swig of his vodka. “And?”

  “And you are using our connections to do it.” More Russian. Vlad refuses to speak in anything but.

  Rust now switches from English to answer him in Russian, his tone snappish. “My channels, my connections. I built those. I don’t get involved in your side. Stay the hell out of mine.”

  “You don’t get involved? You’ve been asking a lot of questions about our side lately.”

  “Yeah, because you’re gouging me with each new shipment.”

  “Do you want out?”

  Rust shrugs in a way that tells me he’s getting a bit drunk and therefore bullish. “Maybe.”

  “Because the next shipment is expected on time.”

  Rust dips his head, taking several deep breaths. Finally, “Relax, Vlad. I’m just diversifying is all. All the orders are out and plans are set. You’ll still get your cars next week and none of this other stuff hits your soil, so there’s no competition with your current buyers.”

  “Was this his idea?” I keep my eyes on the crowd, knowing that the asshole is referring to me.

  “Luke only does what I ask him to. This lands on me.” A pause. “Got it?”

  Vlad’s lips curl back like a feral animal’s. Finally, he says, “Got it.” He downs his drink. Standing up, he leans over just far enough to spit on the floor beside us before marching off.

  Rust shoots me a “told you” glare before smiling at Rain. “I’m so sorry about that. Some of my business partners are prickly.”

  “I can’t say I’d want to work with him,” she offers, and then leans into me with a smile, seemingly unbothered by the exchange. We stay for another hour or so, Rust telling stories about me as a little kid that make Rain laugh gleefully, and it’s like the whole Vlad thing never happened. Even I start to believe it’s not a big deal.

  Until Rain slides past me to hit the restroom and the cheerful mood Rust forced for her benefit vanishes. “This isn’t good, Luke.”

  “How did Vlad hear about the deal with Aref?”

  He sucks in a breath in thought. “I don’t know. Aref isn’t stupid enough to tell him and he’s never met any of the fences. I keep all the layers away from each other. Helps avoid issues in case someone gets nabbed. Only you and Miller ever talk to Rodriguez and that group, and I know neither of you have said anything.” He pinches the bridge of the nose. “I should have let this partnership die with Viktor. I knew better.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Now . . . we make sure that the shipment for Vlad and Andrei goes out next week.” His fingers strum against the table as he eyes the people nearby. “Listen . . . how well do you know this girl?”

  “Pretty well, why?”

  “Something about her rubs me the wrong way.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I slam my glass down, glancing over my shoulder to make sure she’s not coming up on me. “She’s perfect, Rust.”

  “Too perfect.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know . . . She didn’t tell you that she’s been here before?”

  “I never asked!” I can’t remember half the places I’ve been to. They all start to look the same after a while. “She’s not like the women you normally see me with. That’s the problem.”

  “Maybe.” A smile. “You really like this one, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  He dumps his drink back. “Maybe that’s why she raises the hairs on my neck.”

  Chapter 44

  ■ ■ ■

  CLARA

  “So, what were your uncle and that guy arguing about? Because he sounded pissed.”

  “It’s just the language.” Luke chuckles, turning into the underground garage in his building. “Russians always sound angry to people who don’t understand them.”

  “Did you understand them?”

  “I can’t believe you were at The Cellar when I was, and we never met.”

  I know a brush-off, and Luke’s trying to brush me off. “I know, crazy, right?”

  “But Rust noticed you.” Luke glances down at my bare legs. This dress doesn’t allow for much coverage and, by the way he’s been eyeing me all night, that’s a good thing. He veers the SUV into his private garage with ease.

  “So, did he give his blessing?”

  Slipping his hand around the back of my head, he pulls me into a long, hard kiss. The kind that I give him when I’m not wearing my wire. The kind I can’t enjoy right now.

  “He loved you. He can’t wait to see you again.”

  No small relief fills me. There’s a reason no one’s been able to get close to Rust so far. He doesn’t trust easily, or completely.

  But he trusts his nephew.

  “You, in this dress, have killed me tonight.” Luke’s hand lands on my thigh and slips upward as he adds, “You’re coming up for the night, right?”

  I grab hold of his hand just as his fingers begin curling under the lace of my panties. “I can’t.”

  His forehead drops against mine. “Are you sure? It’s been too long since that day at the garden . . . I need you again.
”

  Fuck, shit, fuckity shit. My stomach leaps up in my chest and I have to look away from him before he reads the panic that I’m sure is written all over my face. How the hell am I going to explain that one to Warner? I’m so screwed. There’s not much I can do about it right now, except not make this worse. “I know. But I can’t right now. You know . . . female issues.”

  His head falls back with a big groan. “Ohhhh.”

  Thank God he’s not smart enough to question why on earth I’d wear a cream-colored dress that barely covers my ass when I’m on my period.

  “You could still come up, though . . . right?” The way he looks at me—hopeful, almost pleading—well, apparently he’s plenty smart enough to understand that there’s nothing stopping at least one of us from getting off tonight.

  I’m sure as hell not having the sounds of that recorded, even if Sinclair condones it.

  I pat my abdomen. “I’ve got bad cramps. I could use the sleep.”

  He nods and offers me a reluctant smile. “I could take care of you? You know, get some Tylenol or . . .” He laughs awkwardly. “I don’t know what. I’m new to all this.”

  “You’re sweet, thank you. But I just need some sleep. And Stanley serves as a good heating pad.” The fur-ball creates a rather inconvenient obstacle in the center of my bed.

  Luke meets me at the back of the car and walks me out hand-in-hand, stopping to punch in the code for the garage door that will hopefully keep this one from being stolen. That’s when I spot Warner behind a pillar, baseball cap pulled down over his brow.

  Gun drawn.

  My mouth drops open. What the hell is he doing? Luke has met him! He thinks he’s my brother!

  We make eye contact, and Warner retreats a few steps, the relief visible across his face. Any second now, though, Luke is going to look up and spot him. So I do the only thing I can think of. I slip my hand around Luke’s neck and pull him down into my mouth in one of those kisses made for movies, which buys Warner enough time to dart behind a large truck.