Rough and Ready

by Cathleen Ross

  He waved a hand. “I’ve done three tours. Trust me, it feels like a nick.”

  “When did you get back?”

  “Touched down two days ago.”

  “No wonder you’re still trigger happy. I saw how you reacted back at the bar. You were brave.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “And stupid. You took a risk for me. You shouldn’t have.”

  “In case you didn’t notice, there were a lot of angry bikers in that bar. A sweet thing like you could have been hurt.”

  “And so could a big thing like you.”

  Hugo shrugged. “I’m used to it. Besides, I was raised to protect women. I’ve been stitched up enough by nurses to have a lot of respect for the profession.”

  “I like that. You’re a sweet guy to say that. We work hard.”

  “Ain’t never been called sweet before.” He smiled at this straight-shooting woman. Pity she was on the wrong side of the biker war.

  “Well, take it as a compliment. It’s not a term I use often, especially with the men I mix with.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Please. Don’t call me, Ma’am. My name’s Alice.”

  “Right. Sorry, Alice. Force of habit.”

  He settled back in the passenger seat. He wasn’t worried about her bossy tone because she was clearly anxious about him, and he knew it was the adrenaline talking. It had been a long time since a woman cared. He was going to enjoy having her look after him.

  What he hadn’t planned on was being her babysitter. He’d have to set her father straight asap. No way was he playing bodyguard.

  He needed to get this job done fast. So he could pay his old man a visit in Baton Rouge. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched again. Blood. He could still taste it. His mother’s face bruised and broken, taking punishment she shouldn’t.

  He had a score to settle.

  He wasn’t a weak seventeen-year-old boy now.

  Living in Baton Rouge wasn’t in the cards, but he would settle that score.

  Alice pulled into the driveway of a newish block of apartments and pressed the remote on her keychain. The large garage door rolled up, and she drove into the underground lot and parked the truck. “Stay here for a moment. I don’t want anyone seeing you covered in blood.”

  “Why? You got a bad reputation, Alice?”

  Pain flickered across her face. “I’m a biker’s daughter, and I’ve tried to live that down my whole life. I’ve been called a bad seed from the time I was born.”

  He tipped his head and winked. “You look more like a sunflower to me.”

  She grinned, and for the first time he saw happiness dance over her face. “Everyone in this city knows my last name, and they judge. It’s nice to hear you say something different.”

  “In battle, I’ve dealt with people who look like they’ve come out of the gateway of hell. I don’t care who your daddy is, I know a good person when I see one.”

  She reached over and squeezed his arm. “Thank you. My daddy comes from rough stock from way back. Boatmen who traded on the waterways. They brought in anything that made money, legal or illegal, and nothing has changed. It doesn’t seem to matter how I dress, or what I do, or how well-behaved I am, folks still want to punish me for that.”

  He felt bad for her. Nobody deserved to pay for their father’s sins.

  “Only assholes think that way,” he said.

  “A name like Kaintuck is memorable. After Beast blew up the Banderos clubhouse a year ago, Daddy was in the papers for months. The press even published photos of me. I was hunted on social media. I had to close down all my accounts.” Her eyes watered, and her lip quivered. “I was spat on in the streets.”

  “Don’t cry.” Oh shit. Not tears. He hated tears. He reached out and stroked her cheek. “You didn’t do anything. It’s your father.”

  She wiped her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “That may be true, but it’s personal for me. I was going to be engaged. He dumped me when I was in the papers. Couldn’t handle the association.”

  “Then the guy’s a jerk. Not worthy of you.”

  She shrugged, her sweet lips narrowing into a straight line. “Thanks for saying that.”

  “All I’m seeing is a kind, beautiful young woman. I thought I was hallucinating when I first saw you in that dirty bar.”

  She gave him a watery smile. “I know I should rise above the negativity and hold my head high, but it’s like my heart gets sliced in two when people bring up the MC and my father. It’s humiliating. Worse, I have to work with my ex. He’s the consulting doctor in obstetrics.”

  Hugo studied her. “Do you still want him?”

  She shook her head. “I’m over him, but I was so happy. Thought I’d gotten my life in order. Work, marriage, babies. But those dreams died a painful death.”

  “You’re sweet and beautiful. There’ll be other men.”

  “No. No way. Guys I meet now want me for one thing because I’m a biker’s daughter. I’ve given up on love. All I want to do is be a great nurse.”

  He ground his teeth and flexed his hand into a fist. “Tell me if anyone’s bothering you and I’ll beat them up for you.”

  A look of horror crossed her face. “I hate violence, Hugo. I’m a healer. I’m going to rise above it by working hard and helping people. One day folks will know my surname doesn’t mean dirt.”

  Maybe, until he found out about the next weapons shipment and Beast blew up the Banderos’s newly rebuilt clubhouse. Then it would all end up in the papers again.

  Troubled, he glanced over at her. She was a lovely, understated but sexy woman. The type that would make him a delicious baked dinner and a cake. He sure didn’t meet that type of gal in the army or on the battlefield.

  She was too gentle for him, though, even if he was sorely tempted to give her a try.

  She pulled the keys out of the ignition and handed them to him. “Come on. The coast is clear. I need to get you patched up.” Before he could answer, she jumped from the truck and checked out the parking lot again, motioning for him to come.

  He grabbed his duffel bag from the back and followed her. They took the elevator up to her third-floor apartment, and she motioned him inside.

  “Fancy place you got here,” he said, looking around. “Didn’t know nursing paid so well.”

  “I had help from Momma and a small inheritance from my momma’s side.”

  He put his duffel on the floor by the door, mentally calibrating the sole entry and exit point. The building was a few streets away from the French Quarter and had a view of the Mississippi River from the living room window. The apartment was clean and neat like her, but the three-seater sofa was a vibrant cherry-red velvet with soft silk cushions, so comfy-looking that he thought about stretching out on it. There’d be room enough for two. He’d make sure of that.

  “The place is tiny and eats up a huge amount of my paycheck each month,” she said, “but I like the security. I feel safe here.”

  She walked into the kitchen, opened a cupboard under the sink, and pulled out a red first aid box. She had a nice round ass that strained against her scrubs—just enough to fill each hand. He watched as she moved, taking in every little nuance.

  She took out a sterile gauze pad. “Press this to your throat.”

  He did as she asked. “You’re worried about security? I thought bikers didn’t touch other biker’s families.”

  “It’s always been that way before. But the driver who hit Momma this morning didn’t even stop.”

  “Maybe it was just an accident.”

  She shook her head, troubled. “I don’t think so. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. I just don’t know who’s behind it.”

  “Your father seems to think it was those guys at the bar. I know hatred when I see it. I was expecting a slaughter.”

  “The Slayers and the Banderos have history. Daddy’s hotheaded and too ready to blame. I’m not convinced the Slayers are behind the hit-and-run. They’
ve never hurt any of the Banderos womenfolk before.” She blinked and took a deep breath. “Dear God, I don’t want any more trouble. My parents are all I have.”

  “No man in your life?”

  “I told you, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Not even biker friends with benefits?”

  She was as sweet as a homemade apple pie, and he longed to taste her, even if she wasn’t right for him. But he had no interest in sharing her with another man.

  Something flared in her eyes. “No. I hate that place. I will never have the crazy relationship my parents have, and I’ll be damned if I’ll date a guy who sells weapons or pushes drugs. I’ve seen enough damage where I work. Give me a reliable, honest man with a regular nine-to-five job and who does what he says he’s going to do.”

  He made a face. “Sounds boring.”

  “Trust me. I won’t be bored with normal. I crave normal.”

  He grinned at her, thinking normal sucked. “If you say so.”

  He walked around the apartment opening doors—to the bathroom and to a study with a single bed in it, and the last door, which revealed a girly bedroom that smelled of fresh spring flowers. Like Alice. It had a cheerful comforter decorated with tulips on a king-sized bed.

  Nice and big.

  He tested the mattress.

  Firm. Just how he liked it.

  His cock stirred. Down, boy. Damn thing had a mind of its own.

  Clearly, he was developing a thing for her, even though he’d only just met her.

  “What are you doing?” She had followed him to the bedroom and crossed her arms with a frown.

  “My job.”

  “What part of that entails pressing on my mattress?”

  He grinned. “I like a nice bed. Comfortable mattress.”

  Her pretty pink cheeks reddened. “Glad you like it. You’re not staying.”

  “You’re forgetting, Daddy hired me to watch over you.”

  “Well, I’m firing you. I can’t go to work trailing a bodyguard. It’s a new job, and I’m still being carefully evaluated. Everyone will want to know why I have a bodyguard.”

  He shrugged. “Tell them the truth. Someone hurt your momma.”

  She frowned, and her mouth tightened. “Don’t you get it? People are just waiting for me to do something wrong. To prove that I’m no good, like Daddy. I don’t know what my father was thinking offering you that job. He gets crazy when stressed.”

  Hugo crossed the bedroom in a heartbeat to where she stood in the doorway. He came so close he could smell the fresh scent of her hair. “You good with a gun, Alice?”

  “I hate guns.”

  “A knife?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I would never hurt anyone.”

  “So, how do you plan to defend yourself when something happens?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and he saw keen intelligence there. “How do you know something’s going to happen?”

  “I know a flare-up situation when I see one. Your father doesn’t seem the type to back down.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and a hunted look crossed her face. “You’re right, he isn’t. If there’s a rule, Daddy wants to break it.”

  Hugo put his hand on her shoulder. Her body was tense, like she needed a massage. He’d enjoy giving her one. But first, he had to convince her she needed him around.

  “So, how do you plan to defend yourself?” he repeated.

  “I can’t, and honestly? I’m terrified. This club war’s going to escalate. Daddy’s determined to get even with the Slayers.”

  “Then you need to let me do my job, which is to guard you. Your father can look after himself.”

  She glared at him for a moment then frowned. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  She pulled back the pad he was holding to check his wound, and a look of concern crossed her face.

  Something inside him stirred. She was so tender with him. He’d never known real tenderness.

  “I need to clean and stitch the wound. Come into the kitchen,” she said.

  He followed her and sat on a kitchen stool, his legs spread wide so she had to step between his thighs to get close enough.

  “Take off your T-shirt. It’s filthy. The blood’s dripped right down your front.”

  He pulled it off.

  An expression of awe crossed her face, and her chin dropped. “You are such a big guy. The army must have worked you hard. I’ve never seen such a fit-looking man.”

  He enjoyed the admiration in her eyes. “I like hard work. The military life suited me, never staying in one place too long.”

  “You don’t want to put down roots?”

  He didn’t want to talk about his long-term plans, because he didn’t know if he could settle down long enough to achieve them. So he said, “Hell, no. I get antsy. I was a military brat first, then I became a soldier.”

  Besides, the less she knew about him, the better.

  “I’m a real homebody. I love New Orleans and would never want to leave. I have some close friends and cousins on Momma’s side. They don’t judge me because of Daddy.”

  Hugo straightened up and stretched.

  She blinked, clearly taking in the broad expanse of his chest. She lifted a finger and trailed it over his abdomen…all the way down to his waistband.

  He waggled his brows at her. “Want my pants off, too?”

  Damn, he was getting hard just thinking of what he’d like to do to her. She wasn’t tall, but she’d be a good fit. She had nice, full breasts, the type that would look sexy as hell with her bra off.

  “I’ve never had a one-night stand, Hugo. Not my style.”

  Hell, he was so keen the words just fell out of his mouth. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m good for more than one night.”

  She laughed throatily, glancing down at his growing erection. “I think you better keep them on for the moment.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I have to concentrate on stitching you up, which I won’t if I’m thinking about that monster trying to escape out of your pants. You are a well-made man, Hugo Boudreaux.”

  He chuckled, noticing the heat of her gaze and her pink cheeks.

  She washed her hands, put on gloves, and started cleaning his wound, which allowed him the pleasure of observing her up close.

  She had porcelain skin, the type that would burn easily in the sun. Her eyelashes were long and curly, and her lips were crimson bows. Her slightly too-big nose defined her face, made her a little different. His fingers twitched, and he fought the urge to undo her neat bun and run his fingers through her hair.

  She was as gentle as a fluttering bird’s wing as she wiped his throat. Her ministrations sent tingles down his body until his cock was damned uncomfortable locked in his jeans.

  “This looks like a flesh wound. It’s not as deep as I thought. A few stitches should fix it. I’ll just numb it up a bit first,” she said, moving from between his legs back to the first aid kit.

  Watching her, a warm feeling built in his chest…which surprised the hell out of him. What was that all about? He’d be out of her life in a few days. Feelings had no place in this scenario.

  “I don’t need numbing,” he said gruffly. “This isn’t the first scratch I’ve had.”

  “No shit. There are at least two bullet wounds on your torso,” she said, searching in the first aid box.

  Which was why he’d ended up here, because Troy had carried him from the battlefield on his back, when he could have just saved his own hide. Hugo had vowed to repay him for that loyalty, and that time had come.

  Alice returned to stand between his thighs, a needle and suturing thread in her hand.

  She pursed her lips. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

  Her index finger traced the bullet wound as she took in the numerous other scars on his torso. Her touch was electric, and his nipples tightened. Damn, there was just something about her…

  “Maybe. But I like to enjoy the good things in life when I se
e them,” he said.

  Her warm hand came to rest on his shoulder. “I bet you do, soldier. You don’t seem the kind of man to hold back.”

  He’d have to with her, or he’d come way too fast. Hell, he bet she’d be a snug fit.

  Would she like to be tied up and spanked? Have sex the way he craved it?

  “Stick that needle in good and hard,” he told her wryly. “I need to clean up my thoughts. It’s been a long time since I’ve been close to a beautiful woman like you.”

  She was too neat. Too clean. Too sweet. He liked to fuck hard, and he needed a woman who liked sex that way.

  Even so, he liked her no-nonsense manner, and her loyalty to her father, even if the prick didn’t deserve it.

  “I’m good at what I do, and your erection doesn’t scare me.” She threaded the needle and inserted it into his wound, pulling it tight and tying it off before starting on the next stitch.

  What did she mean by that? Did she want him?

  ’Cause he sure wanted her.

  He didn’t flinch as she stitched him. Instead, he focused on the sensation of her warm hands, even with the gloves on, sliding over his skin as she worked. He’d been with women—army colleagues who’d moved on, women in bars who’d fuck for a few drinks—but not a nice, gentle girl like Alice. Having sex with her would complicate the situation, but he couldn’t think of anything else.

  “You okay, Hugo? Am I hurting you? You seem preoccupied.”

  “Fuck no, I didn’t feel a thing. Just keep touching me. I’m enjoying the attention.”

  “It’s the shock,” she told him with a smile. “Most people need to be touched after an incident. Some people need wild sex. It helps them know they survived.” She put a dressing on his throat, pulled off the gloves, and tossed them aside, but didn’t move from between his legs.

  He took her hand and slid it down onto the erection that bulged in his pants. “Tell me more about what’ll make me feel better.”

  She swallowed, her bright blue eyes serious, her lips open and inviting. “You saved my life today, Hugo. Would’ve taken a bullet for me. My adrenaline is still going crazy. Goddamn it, I want your cock stretching me until I can’t take anymore. After the shock of what happened in the bar, I can’t think of anything else except having you inside me.”