Lucas let loose a hair-raising screech and dove, anger a deep burn in his chest. The group on the ground looked up, and stark fear took hold of their features. He knew all about bullies and planned on teaching them a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.
He landed on the balls of his feet between Mike’s son and the teens and only stumbled a little this time. He allowed a quick glance to make sure the kid was okay and widened his stance, folding his arms, which seemed to have grown some impressive pipes, over his now solid chest.
This is more like it.
One of the teens, a punker with scraped back green-tinged hair and a ring through his nose, spat near Lucas’ kickass biker boots.
“Halloween isn’t for a couple weeks yet, old man.”
Old. Ha. Little did he know.
“Back off,” he warned. “You boys are treading dangerous ground. One bad mistake can screw up your whole lives. You don’t want to do that, do you?”
The other two looked suitably chastised and hung their heads. But the pack leader wasn’t willing to back down. He grabbed a nearby piece of pipe and brandished it in the air as though he were a modern day Peter Pan.
Aware that he couldn’t change the boy’s free will, Lucas decided to try out his newfound powers. He closed his eyes and a lift of his hand later, the teen wore neon tights to match that awful hair color. His friends broke out in guffaws of choked laughter.
The teen glared at Lucas. “Funny, dude. I don’t know how you pulled it off, but this ain’t over.” He turned and marched off into the night, his butt a beacon in the dark. His friends followed, snickering.
Now that he’d taken care of the problem, Lucas turned to help Mike’s boy.
But the kid was gone.
Chapter 9
The coffee they served in the waiting room of the veterinary hospital could have been used to sterilize the equipment. Tracy inspected her spoon, shrugged, and added another cube of sugar to the mix. She had a feeling she was going to need the boost.
She wandered the confines of the room, careful to avoid the corner where Scott was chitchatting with the nurse who had taken their information. Far be it for her to care about the fact the woman was practically sitting in his lap. Or that her breasts were mashed against his arm. And how could he stand her gigglitis condition?
Tracy leaned a tired shoulder against the window frame and stared into the darkness beyond. A hot bath, a glass of red wine, and her warm bed sounded like a slice of heaven. The events of the day were catching up to her. She could feel her hard-won poise deflating by the second.
Ken had assured her the pup would be fine. In fact he’d told her to go home and he’d call in the morning, but she and the animal had connected in the garage. Tracy couldn’t leave without making sure he pulled through. This case had her worried. Their team had performed autopsies in the past on everything from high-ranking officials to gang members and sometimes even received hate mail. This was different. Malicious.
“Penny for them?” Scott’s reflection joined hers in the glass, his voice a velvet cloak wrapping her in his sensuality.
More than anything Tracy wanted to lean back against his broad chest, feel his strong arms hug her close, and just relax. She couldn’t. Too many years of managing on her own had programmed her not to count on anyone. If only her hormones didn’t respond so easily to his oh-so-delicious body.
Because that’s all this was, a chemistry attraction. It had to be. They barely knew each other. And he was a player. All solid reasons to take what she wanted and walk away. Problem was, Tracy wasn’t sure she could walk away from this man.
* * *
Scott barely listened to the young nurse perched beside him on the hard plastic chairs, buzzing in his ear like an annoying mosquito. Tracy seemed pensive and alone standing by the window. He ached to hold her close. They had a connection; she might wish to deny it but it was there just the same.
He should take her home. She needed to get some rest before the cops showed up to take their statements. He’d tried calling Ray to do some damage control but his PR manager wasn’t picking up the phone. Damn guy was always around when he wasn’t wanted and never when he was needed. The same thing happened the night of the party.
He and Lucas had spent the day sightseeing, showing his little sister the city of Chicago. They began with a boat tour on the Chicago River, checked out the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier, and ended with a stroll around Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park. Then they’d gone home and dressed in preparation for the after-party now that the movie had wrapped up production.
Ray promised to have a car deliver them to the gathering hosted by the movie’s director, but Lucas decided to go for a cruise and show Natalya some of the area surrounding the city first. He’d just bought a sweet ride a couple of weeks earlier and was still in car whore heaven. They had a blast, laughing and singing and catching up with each other. Idyllic really.
Restless, he smiled vaguely in his companion’s direction, rose and made his way across the empty sitting room to stand slightly behind Tracy. He inhaled the flowery scent of her shampoo, tempted to bury his nose in the silky tresses. How could she still look so put together after the day they’d just endured? Her hair, almost mahogany in this lighting, hadn’t dared to escape its coiled perfection. Even her clothes were wrinkle-free, though dusty from kneeling on the cement.
He itched to mess her up. To find out what she’d look like first thing in the morning, after a full night of lovemaking. He’d start with the tender spot right there on the back of her neck, work his way to the shell of her ear. Murmur how beautiful she looked, how much he wanted her, how great they were going to be together. He’d remove the pins and work his fingers through the silky mass of hair, cradle her head while his teeth nibbled her jaw and inched closer and closer to the pouty fullness of her mouth. He fantasized about that mouth—and what it could do to him.
She would be fully responsive, as eager to learn his body as he was to discovering hers. She’d turn to him, run her slender hands up his chest, unbutton his shirt and touch his skin. Her lush lips would trail fire along his collarbone, nuzzle his neck, and then her mouth would lift to his and whisper for him to take her home with him.
Yeah, maybe.
It was far more likely that if she knew what he was thinking she’d push him out the third story window of the hospital.
“Did you get her number?” Tracy glanced back, her brow raised over sarcastic green eyes.
Wow, someone’s claws were out. Never mind that she was right. The nurse, Nancy, he thought she’d said, had given him her card. And asked for an autograph on her tit. Cripes, was she going to whip the thing out every time she wanted to show off his signature? Scott didn’t understand what drove mega-fans to act the way they did. Some of it was just plain creepy.
He fingered the crumpled card in his pocket.
“Nah, not interested.” Funny thing, he really wasn’t. Even though Nurse Nancy would most certainly have been a sure thing, he had his eye on someone else entirely. And Tracy wasn’t even his type. Normally he sought out cardboard blondes who knew the score every bit as much as he did. Tracy reminded him more of an owl, with her still air and eyes that saw everything. Yet when she soared Scott bet it would be breathtaking. He planned to be the one to find out.
“I’m fine here. Ken can give me a ride home later.”
Not on your life, sister.
He wasn’t leaving the door open for that guy to step in. “Let me take you.”
Her gaze grew wary. Smart girl.
He used his good hand and eased the now cold coffee from her grip, turned and set it on the table next to the wall, then gestured for her to lead the way.
“C’mon, you’re dead on your feet. We’ll stop at the front desk and give them a number to call in case of emergencies. I’m sure your friend will take good care of the pup, right?” An unexpected surge of protectiveness moved him to place his hand at the small of her back to guide her down the ha
ll. She fit neatly under his arm, a Pocket Venus, the top of her head barely brushing his chin. Voluptuous, curvy, and soon to be his.
He was thankful when they stopped at the admission’s desk and neither Nurse Nancy nor Doc Ken were anywhere in sight. A moment later they were out the door and into the cab he’d called earlier. She gave him an impenetrable glance, then leaned forward and gave the driver her address before settling back in the seat, hands folded primly in her lap.
She smelled even better in the close confines of the dark car. His body tightened. He gave up maintaining a friendly distance and let his thigh rub against hers while his arm snaked around her shoulders. His lips brushed her forehead. When she didn’t immediately move away he obeyed the urge and moved lower; skimming her eyelid, discovering the smooth, clean line of her cheekbone, the silky texture of her skin. And then he was where he wanted to be, his mouth tasting her lips.
His heart was pounding like a teenager’s, for fuck’s sake. His hands were trembling and he was sweating. Crazy. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had affected him this way. He nibbled the corner of her mouth, seeking permission to enter. Her lips quivered. Then, thank you sweet baby Jesus, they opened on a soft sigh of acceptance.
Scott used the fingers resting on her shoulder to gently nudge her jaw, turning her so they could fit together more fully. She flicked out her tongue to catch his lower lip and his dick jumped in reaction.
Holy hell.
He was in so much trouble.
Now that she was fully on board, her hands and mouth were everywhere at once. Her taste was indescribable. Like his favorite dark chocolate black forest cake, sweet, rich, decadent, and he couldn’t get enough. Their tongues mated in a way he craved for their bodies to match. He strained closer, frustrated that with his broken arm he couldn’t touch her the way he desired.
Her hand skimmed down his side and brushed against his cracked rib. Scott sucked in a harsh breath and couldn’t withhold a groan of pain. Tracy jumped as though she’d been scalded, unintentionally bumping him again.
“Oh,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
That depends. Did she plan on continuing where they left off?
Scott eyed her horrified expression and sighed. Yeah, thought not.
“Sure,” he grimaced and surreptitiously straightened a leg to ease the pressure. “I’m good.” He caught the cabbie’s amused gaze in the mirror and used his knee to shove a warning through the back of the seat. He didn’t care for himself, but it seriously pissed him off at the thought of Tracy’s humiliation. He knew better than this. They’d be lucky if their kiss wasn’t turned into a sordid affair on the front cover of a celebrity site by morning.
She inched away, smoothing her mussed hair back into its neat twist. He smothered his dissatisfaction and slumped in his seat. Just as well, he wasn’t in the right headspace to be screwing around with anyone right now, especially a woman like Tracy.
Raise a little hell sang from his cell phone. Tracy’s eyebrows rose. He exhaled and dug into his pocket for the blasted thing.
“Tracy, hi, it’s Ken.”
Scott fingered the end button, caught Tracy’s enquiring gaze, and reluctantly passed the phone over.
She listened for a moment, then turned away for privacy. Scott forced himself to stay in his corner, his ears straining to eavesdrop.
“How is he?” Tracy asked. She cleared her throat, her voice husky. Scott’s chest filled with satisfaction. He got to her.
The doc must have shared some good news, her posture eased. “Thanks, Ken, I owe you one.”
She ended the call just as the cab pulled up in front of a set of brownstone type condos. “I have to go. I’ll see you then.”
She gave Scott a small non-smile, handed his cell back, and dug in her purse, obviously intending to pay the cabdriver and blow him off.
He reached out and stilled her movements.
“The pup’s okay?” When she nodded, he sighed his relief. “Good, that’s really good.” Reluctant to end the night alone he gently squeezed her fingers. “You going to invite me in?”
The moment the words left his lips he wished them back. Her hand stiffened, withdrew from under his, and came out with a wad of cash that she passed to the waiting cabbie. Then she finally met his gaze, her chin lifting proudly.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?”
Yeah, he really did.
He watched as she opened the door and climbed out, revealing a length of shapely thigh in the process.
When she leaned over enough to see him, her face seemed a touch wistful. “Take care of yourself, Scott.”
Before he could answer, she softly closed the door and walked off into the night.
Chapter 10
Lucas grabbed his chest, wheezing like a two-pack-a-day truck driver with asthma by the time he walked back to the car. Apparently this new superhero persona only worked in an emergency. Would a heart attack count?
Shivering, he climbed behind the wheel and started the engine before directing the heat vents to high. He still couldn’t believe he had wings. Talk about your kickass movie prop. This would almost be fun if it weren’t for the fact the kid was wandering around out there in nothing more than a pair of cotton pajamas. He needed to find him, and soon. Lucas dreaded telling Mike he’d allowed his child to go missing, the guy was in enough pain. Maybe if he toured the neighborhood he could catch a break and locate the little fella.
Decision made, Lucas shifted into gear and idled away from the curb before clicking on his headlights. At the corner he hung a right, heading in the same general direction of where he’d last seen the boy. The kid would be alright, he had to be. He was probably holed up in someone’s garden shed or garage and would head for home in the morning. But Lucas didn’t want to wait that long. He didn’t much like Mike, but the man deserved to know his family was safe.
It was because of someone like him that Mike was in heaven. If only he’d been paying more attention to the road that day. But no, he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze from straying to his buddy’s kid sister. Scott’s fully grown, incredibly gorgeous, younger sibling who managed to fill the car with her captivating presence. Where had the mouthy little pig-tailed squirt who used to follow them all over the neighborhood disappear to? This older, poised version of Natalya was worlds apart from that little girl. Or so it seemed—until he looked closer and noticed the mischievous sparkle in her teal blue eyes, and the errant curl of sandy blonde hair that refused to stay tucked behind the delicate pink shell of her ear. She’d worn a white dress. It should have looked prim and proper with its scooped neck and demure hem, but instead fit her like a second skin.
Lucas had been flat-out gob-smacked. He’d known she was a pretty girl, he and Scott had had their hands full keeping the dickheads away from her when they were younger, but this… She’d gone and grown up on him when he wasn’t looking and he wasn’t sure what to do with all the heat surging in his belly—and lower.
Shit.
She was his best friend’s sister, and by extension, his. It was plain wrong to be wondering if those breasts were as firm as they looked, how smooth those long, long legs of hers were, or how they would feel wrapped around his waist.
She’d asked him to hold her beer while she shifted to get more comfortable on Scott’s lap. Lucas felt like an idiot because he’d gone and bought a two-seater dream-machine instead of something practical. He remembered raising the drink in a toast and taking a light sip, his focus on Nat instead of the freaking road. When he’d turned back his vision was blurry and it was already fait accompli, far too late to save anybody. Natalya was dead, just like Mike’s family who had lost their husband and father.
“It’s time you stopped feeling sorry for yourself. It’s unproductive and will do you no good.”
Lucas swerved, startled out of his thoughts by the chastising tone of his Lord. “Don’t do that,” he swore. “One accident in a lifetime is more than
enough.”
Anger settled like an oppressive cloud on his chest and choked the peacefulness of the night sky from his mind.
“Why are you doing this?” He slapped the steering wheel in frustration. “I couldn’t even protect my friends and now you want me to rescue a kid?” He slammed the car into park.
“Find some other saint to do your saving. I quit.”
The Lord chuckled. “You’re just like your grandfather, he’s always sassing me, too.”
Stunned, Lucas glanced around, but the back seat was still empty. “You know my grandpa?” Of course, he’d know everyone.
“I do, my son. He’s a good man. Hot tempered, but a good man nonetheless.”
Visions of a jovial smile and gentle hands filled Lucas’ mind superseded by images of coarse swearing and fists the size of ham hocks. When he’d been small his grandfather was his whole world. Always kind and sympathetic to a little boy’s scuffed knees or dirty hands. But then he’d died and left them alone and nothing was ever the same again.
“I want to see him,” Lucas said, his gaze on the golden cross.
“And you will. In time,” He replied. “First, you have work to do.”
* * *
Scott watched until Tracy made it safely into the building, disgusted with himself for making a stupid play on a woman who obviously wasn’t a player. He’d never met anyone quite like the doc before. It surprised him how much her opinion mattered in such a short space of time. And it pissed him off that she didn’t take him seriously. Maybe he wasn’t a high-falutin’ vet like ol’ Ken, but his career choice was no walk in the park either. He spent endless hours studying and repeating phrases over and over again, then there were the wardrobe changes, makeup, extreme heat, or freezing cold. Kissing and sometimes more with women he’d barely met, and frankly, couldn’t care less about. Months of exhausting travel and promotion followed by a never-ending rinse and repeat cycle.
The Guardian (Mended Souls Book 1) Page 5
