by Karen Renee
“Now she’s flirty about it.”
“Tit for tat, Sam.”
“Should play this closer to my chest, but I can’t wait to see you when you say shit like that.”
I blushed, for some inane reason.
“All right. What’s your douchebag ex done now?”
“Oh, the usual. Acting like his job is the only one that matters, not responding to texts about our daughter. Telling me I’m being dramatic when I share how Aubrey wouldn’t go to school this morning. Standard stuff.”
He stayed silent so long, I added, “Sorry, guess I overshared, huh?”
“No,” he bit out. “I’m amazed you can take me from horny-as-hell to furious-as-hell in thirty seconds.”
I couldn’t help it. That hit me strange and I burst with laughter. When I calmed myself, I said, “Sorry, that’s funny.”
“It is.” His tone had gone soft along with his volume.
“What do you mean?”
“Horny to furious, and hearing you belly-laugh sets me back to normal. You’re right, it’s funny. Pretty powerful to effect me like that.”
That was one of the nicest things a man had ever said to me and my belly pitched. “Why’d you call?”
“I was gonna give you a hard time about how you must be tryin’ to work my ego over since you still haven’t texted me your address, but I can tell you’ve had your hands full.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t realize you’re brawny, handsome, and sensitive.” Then I rattled off my address.
“Good thing I’m sittin’ at my desk to jot that down. Reminds me, now that I’ve got an account at your bank. Can my assistant come in and get herself added on?”
I pressed my lips together while shaking my head. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come with her. We know it’s an inconvenience, but seeing as anyone you add to the account can clear it out, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”
“That won’t happen ’til next week then. I’ll see you at seven-thirty, gorgeous.”
He hung up before I could tell him he was crazy to call me ‘gorgeous.’ For some reason him hanging up didn’t bother me in the slightest.
Brute
BRUTE TUCKED THE SLIP of paper with Kenzie’s address in his wallet.
He left his office for Meg’s desk. “Headed to lunch with Har, then a follow-up with that house on the back-bay.”
Meg put down her sub sandwich, and gave him a mock salute.
He shook his head. “Stop bein’ a smart-ass.”
She swallowed. “Sorry. You’re not talking about the big bathroom remodel, right? But the new client—”
“Yep, the new client. Suspect Mr. Brown, the man who wanted the bathroom, will take his time deciding. That was the vibe I got, but I hope I’m wrong. Later.”
Ten minutes later, he found a parking space half a block away from the Ole Biloxi Fillin’ Station. He spotted Har’s bike as he walked up to the outside dining area.
From across the patio, he heard, “Brute!”
He joined Har and was surprised to find Cynic with him. As he sat down, he gave Cynic a pointed look. “You must not have rode here. Your bike’s hard to miss.”
Cynic shook his head. “Nope. Drove my SUV since it might rain later. Har said Callie came to see you.”
He nodded, but kept silent since he noticed a server coming their way.
After they gave their drink orders and she left them, Brute said, “Caught me in the parking lot. Guess Meg tryin’ to get rid of her didn’t work.”
Cynic ran his hands through is loose brown hair. “That girl’s too damn sweet to run off a fly.”
Har gave Cynic a sideways glance. “How the hell would you know? As much time as you spend with Julie at my shop, you ain’t got time to talk to his new assistant.”
Cynic lit up a cigarette. “She’s Julie’s cousin. Met her at a barbeque Julie invited me to, which wasn’t long after Meg took the job. That’s how I know she’s too sweet.”
Brute shook his head. “This town. Everybody seems to know everyone.”
Their drinks arrived, and they placed their lunch orders.
“Think Tovar fed her shit to say to me,” Brute muttered around his straw.
Cynic nodded, but Har said, “Block thinks the same thing.”
He swallowed his water. “Why’s that? She ambush him, too?”
Har nodded once. “Just this morning, and she cornered Cynic yesterday.”
Brute leaned back in his chair. “What is this shit? It’s been over a year. Why now?”
Cynic shrugged one shoulder. “Shaking the tree, probably.”
Brute considered that, but as if he read his mind, Har said, “Pretty sure there’s something else at work here.”
“That’s what my gut says too, man. I just wish I knew what,” Brute said.
Their food arrived and while he doctored his shrimp po’ boy, Cynic said, “Why drag Callie into this? Does Tovar think using her will rattle one of us? Block said she did the arms under the tits thing just like she did with me.”
Brute chuckled and picked up his chicken sandwich. “Good to know it failed with all three of us. What about Roman?”
Har looked at him. “What about him?”
“Callie ain’t been by to give him shit about protecting our missing brother?”
“Doubt Tovar thinks he can shake shit out of Roman. Wreck could be vocal outside the clubhouse and club-sanctioned gatherings, and he had no problem sayin’ Roman shouldn’t be a patched member,” Cynic said.
“Even though he damn-well voted him in along with everyone else eleven years ago,” Har muttered.
Brute nodded. Yet, why wouldn’t Tovar try to rattle all the members. “Everyone else know about this shit?”
Har nodded. “Cover it more during church tomorrow afternoon. Quarter to noon. Figure you’ll already be there.”
He shook his head. “No, but I’ll be sure to get there.”
Cynic pointed a ketchup-covered fry at him. “Since when do you not party at the clubhouse on Friday nights?”
He glared at Cynic. “Since last Friday, motherfucker.”
Har laughed. “More like since he met a curvy blonde.”
“Who the fuck asked you, Mike?”
He laughed harder. “You been hangin’ with Stephie? She pulls the same shit. Wants me to do somethin’ or lay off, she breaks out the Michael or Mike.”
“Fuck off,” he muttered before chomping into his sandwich.
Both his brothers roared with laughter. Since they backed off, he didn’t give a damn.
Cynic didn’t just inhale nicotine. He inhaled his food, too. Probably so he could feed his nicotine habit some more, which meant Brute finished his lunch inhaling whiffs of smoke every so often.
Cynic pulled some cash out of his wallet. “Hate to eat and run, Prez, but—”
“But you’re gonna do just that. Later, man,” Har said.
Once Cynic left, Har gave Brute a long look. “You takin’ this new woman to the clubhouse later?”
He shook his head. “Too soon for that. Plus, she’s got a kid, though her ex-husband has her tonight.”
Har’s brows rose. “You’re cool with that?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m gettin’ older. Women close to my age are gonna have kids. Nothin’ wrong with kids. Just takin’ a woman out, and seeing where things go.”
Har chuckled. “Someone woulda told me you might be a step-dad—”
“Shut it, man.”
He leveled a hard look at Brute. “Seriously. You’d make a great step-dad. God knows, your dad was a helluva good one to Stephie and Suzy.”
“I got an appointment. Later, man.”
FRIDAYS WERE A CRAZY mess for Brute. End of the week meant paying subcontractors for work finished, or demanding they get work finished that was shoddy at best and sub-standard at worst. Yet Meg seemed to be finding her groove, because if he wasn’t mistaken, he had fewer subs to ream and more approval tags from the building inspectors
compared to weeks prior.
Even though his Friday routine had been easier this week, he pulled up to his apartment five minutes behind schedule. He had to shower, since sitting next to Cynic at lunch made him reek of smoke all afternoon. Not to mention something about Kenzie demanded he put a little extra effort into this first ‘full’ date.
You don’t date, he thought as he unlocked his door. In the past twelve years that had definitely been true, but something was changing. He could feel it, and at first he thought it was because of Har and Stephanie. Deep down, he knew it was something else.
While he stripped off his work clothes, he pushed those thoughts aside. Before leaving the office, he’d had Meg set up a reservation at a swanky steakhouse. Since they’d been to lunch twice, it was probably overkill, but he wanted to do things up right.
Twenty minutes later, he’d showered and dressed. With his wallet and phone in his pockets, he grabbed his keys and left.
At seven twenty-seven, he pulled up to Kenzie’s home and parked in the drive behind her late-model Subaru Legacy. The house was in an older part of Ocean Springs, but the houses were all brick and well-maintained. He wondered how ugly her divorce with her husband had been, because the price of that home now was at least two hundred grand. On the other hand, if she were stuck with the mortgage, he wondered how she could afford to stay there on a banker’s salary.
That information didn’t concern him, and his conversation with Har came back to him. He was just taking her out and for all he knew this might not last longer than four dates.
He rang the bell and waited so long he wondered if she heard it. Then light spilled out from a nearby window and the lock turned.
She opened the door wearing a short, pale yellow terry-cloth robe and a towel was perched on her head. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not quite ready. It’s been a crazy day, but come in.”
He moved inside the foyer and closed the door behind himself. When he looked back at her, he opened his mouth to speak, but she got there first.
“I know I should at least be dressed, but I realized half-way through my shower that I didn’t even know where we’re going or what we’re doing, so... what’s the dress code? Though looking at you, I’m guessing a dress and heels, but that may be wrong too.”
He chuckled. “Relax, Kenzie. You’re right. Dress and heels, if you’re feelin’ like that. We’re hitting Cora’s at the White House Hotel.”
Her eyes widened even as they scanned his torso up and down his Riot MC cut. He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave this in the truck, seein’ as I’m pretty sure they prefer men to wear sports jackets.”
“Well, I’ll be quick.”
“Take your time. Our reservation’s at eight-fifteen.”
She returned in less than ten minutes. He found himself grateful the room separated them. He’d had a hard time controlling himself with her in a robe, but seeing her in the skin-tight, charcoal gray, off-the-shoulder dress had him fighting his cock taking notice. The towel was gone, and she’d twisted her damp hair on top of her head in a messy but artful knot. Tendrils framed her face and he noticed she’d added a hint of raspberry-pink lipstick.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t use this word, but my new assistant must be rubbing off on me. You look fabulous, Kenzie.”
Her cheeks went pink as her lips tipped up. “Thank you. And, you look pretty damn spiffy yourself. I should’ve said so earlier.”
He grinned and bit back his smart comment about her eyes doing the talking for her. “You turning out lights, or do you leave this one on for security?”
She moved to a floor lamp, turned it on, and then hit the switch on the wall.
She stopped midway to him. “Um...” she sighed. “I hesitate to bring this up because this is the behavior of a crazy person, but—”
He fought laughing. “Babe. Whatever it is, spit it out.”
“A man approached me yesterday after work. I should’ve mentioned it on the phone last night, but you distracted me with, well...”
A strange sensation gripped his gut. “‘Approached’ you?”
Her big blue eyes searched his. “Not like that, but I think he messed up. He showed me a picture on his phone of you and me kissing after our lunch. Then he showed me a picture of you with some woman who had her hand on your shoulder. Before he left, he said that you had killed his brother. Like I could have done anything about that, though he tried to make it out as though he was saving me from you. But I didn’t believe a word he said. Clearly, he’s crazy to be following you around and taking pictures of you, but I wanted to mention it before we went somewhere as truly fabulous as Cora’s.”
While she spoke, he ground his teeth together. Forcing himself to relax, he asked, “What’d he look like? Stocky? Thin?”
She paused to think. “He was my height, or a touch taller, since I was wearing heels. He had a huge beard. And if it weren’t for his belly, I’d say he was stocky, but really I don’t think he’s that muscular.”
Detective Tovar was at least six feet and didn’t have a belly or a beard. Relief flooded through him that Tovar hadn’t approached her. But he didn’t like some unknown asshole following her around. The fact he was following Brute didn’t sit well either, but he could deal with that easier than Kenzie being targeted.
“Do you know who it is?” she asked, her voice cautious.
He smiled. “I don’t, but I’m going to find out. I’m sorry that asshole approached you. And—” He paused to think back to any woman who touched him, and he remembered his run-in with Callie. “If the woman in the picture had dark hair, she put her hands on me because she thinks I’m hiding someone the cops think might have killed her sister.”
Kenzie’s mouth fell open.
He held a hand up. “I don’t know where that man is,” he semi-lied. He knew Wreck was dead, but he didn’t know exactly where the other Riot MC brothers had buried the body. “However, my MC brothers and I paid for her sister’s funeral. We’ve done everything we can for her, and believe me, we want to get our hands on this guy just as badly. He stole from the club and likely killed one of our other members. But we haven’t seen or heard from him in over a year.”
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Yeah, wow. That’s not normally shit I share with women the first time I take them out, so if you’re feelin’ the need to back out, I can understand that.”
Her brows furrowed. “No, why would I do that? You didn’t kill him, and like I said, the man who approached me is clearly crazy. Taking pictures of you with me, and you with some other woman. Who does that?”
His stomach pitched when she said he didn’t kill him. He didn’t like the idea of lying to her, but they were not at a point where he could lay that truth on her either. By the time she stopped speaking, she’d done it to him again - taken him through a pendulum swing of emotions, from dread to fighting his laughter.
“I’m glad you see it that way, Kenzie.”
She cocked a brow at him. “Besides, this way we’re even.”
He chuckled. “How’s that?”
“I don’t tell men about Aubrey on the third date, but you found out during the first phone call! You had to spill about something on what is basically our third date, so it’s all good.”
“Takin’ you to lunch is not a date, babe. But we need to split if we’re gonna make our reservation.”
Chapter Seven
Just Getting Started
Kenzie
As I locked my front door, I was happy Brute didn’t freak out too much about the pictures. At first I could feel the anger coming off him, but by the time I finished the way he suppressed his anger impressed me. I turned around to join him on the sidewalk, but he was right there, grabbing my hand.
His face came closer. “We fucked up, babe.”
My head tilted. “We did?”
He let go of my hand so he could cup my cheeks. “Yeah. Normally, I’d kiss you hello, but since you were in that skimpy robe, I didn’
t trust myself, so it’s time for my kiss.”
His lips met mine, and I held onto his forearms because the chemistry between us buckled my knees. We may have only kissed four times, but I felt the powerful attraction in all four. It thrilled me and scared me in equal measure.
He lowered his hands to my waist which forced my hands to let go. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me to him and deepened the kiss. His tongue traced the edge of mine, making me gasp and making him gently end the kiss.
“Like that,” he murmured, resting his forehead on mine.
“Like what?”
“Feeling you gasp. Later, I’m gonna make you gasp a lot harder.”
I pressed my lips together. He may have forgotten that I didn’t have sex on second dates, or whatever this was, but my resolve was in place. It would be nice of him to make me gasp harder, but it wouldn’t happen tonight.
His eyes bore into mine for a bit. One of his brows arched. “Think I need to wipe that look off your face.”
I pulled away. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You went from lookin’ like we could kiss for hours to a face full of regret. But, we’ll go to dinner and see what happens after.”
He kept one arm firm around my waist and we walked side by side to his truck. The lights flashed when he used the key fob to unlock the doors. With his hand on the handle to my door, he paused. His head twisted and he kissed me, short and chaste. When he pulled my door open, my face fell and he chuckled.
“Don’t gloat, Sam.”
He rounded the hood of his truck laughing the entire way.
I WATCHED AS BRUTE shrugged off his leather cut to trade it for his gray sports jacket. I didn’t think he could look sexier than he did in the dress shirt with leather, but it seemed I was wrong. Then another side of me thought the contrast of leather on dressy clothes was better. What I knew for sure was that he had muscles I itched to touch, or maybe even lick.
Yeah, definitely lick, but it was too soon for that.
Or not, based on what he said on my front stoop.
“You bite that lip any harder, it might bleed, Kenz.”
