She’d be worth it. He’d even attend one of those confession meetings and stand up and say, My Name is Austin Brook and I’m an ailurophobic.
Yup, he wanted to explore this… thing they had.
And his best plan was to come clean. And fast. If she’d tell him the truth, then he could spill his own truth. Yeah, by the way, that’s the reason I’m here. Or maybe… I’ve been waiting for you to tell me this so I could tell you…
He wasn’t fooling himself. The odds of her forgiving him were up there with winning the Texas lottery. He wasn’t a gambler by nature, but he occasionally bought a ticket. More importantly, he liked winning. Especially if the prize intrigued him. Leah Reece intrigued him.
Intrigued him more than any other woman. She was… real.
He wanted real.
He walked into the apartment building and went for the stairs instead of the elevator. He pondered his odds of winning this—of winning her. If it was DeLuna behind Leah’s problems, she might be more out to forgive him for wanting the man stopped.
If she wasn’t so anti-gift, he’d buy her something. Something more than a cup of coffee. Some diamond stud earrings maybe, or a…
He stopped in front of his door. Did she wear any jewelry? He couldn’t recall her wearing any. Not that she needed help being noticed, she had that smile and killer dimples. And that small perfectly proportioned body.
Walking into his apartment, he stood in the middle of the living room trying to figure out if he wanted to make coffee or grab a couple hours of sleep.
He’d already tried to call Roberto. The man wasn’t answering. Austin passed a hand over his face. Had something happened to Roberto? Or was this just Roberto behaving like Roberto? The man seldom answered his phone.
Remind you of anyone? Dallas had tossed out when Austin complained earlier. He didn’t care about that. His thoughts returned to Leah. Should he call her? Would she call him?
Aware he still stood in the middle of his apartment just thinking, he turned to the sofa. Obviously, the lack of sleep had him dazed, but he didn’t feel dazed or tired. He felt buzzed, a little anxious, but good.
He felt hopeful. Hopeful he could pull this thing off with Leah.
Nevertheless, he needed sleep. If he was going to see her tonight—and he planned on it—he needed his wits. He took off to his bedroom, walked out of his shoes, and started stripping down. The shirt and jeans landed on the dresser, his boxers came off next but didn’t quite make the dresser. They cascaded down to the carpet—which he ignored. He crawled beneath the cool sheets and when he reclined, he landed on his earphones.
Unable to sleep last night, he brought his computer in here and replayed her conversation with her friend. Then listened to the live tape in Leah’s bedroom. Once, he could swear he’d heard her roll over, even snore. Would he find out what it was like to sleep with her?
Realizing he might have missed a conversation, he snatched his computer from the nightstand. There were six saved files this morning.
He snapped on his headphones and hit play. “My goodness, aren’t you a lover this morning.”
He played all six of Leah whispering sweet nothings to her cats.
Just for grins, he played them again.
Listening to her soft voice, he fell asleep.
Roberto sat in the parked sedan, watching the sun climbing the Louisiana horizon. Supposedly, DeLuna had grown tired of playing with Texas cops and decided to see if the coon-ass cops were more fun. Or less out to get him.
If Roberto had known he was coming to New Orleans he might have called Freddie, Anna’s brother. Freddie was the only other person who’d believed Anna’s accident hadn’t been an accident. Then again, he wouldn’t have called him. Seeing Freddie would remind him of all he’d lost.
Roberto pushed his mind away from the past that he couldn’t do shit about and focused on things he could do shit about. He’d pulled information from Luke about Brad.
Unfortunately, the information told him nada. Luke said DeLuna had sent Brad on a job and he’d dropped off the face of the earth.
And if Brad wasn’t dead, Cruz was supposed to take him off somewhere and teach him a lesson. Not kill him, but rough him up enough that he’d learn a lesson.
Shifting his gaze, Roberto looked at the convenience store where Luke was finishing off his cigarette before going to take a leak. The man had the bladder of a puppy. Of course, every time he stopped, he got another cup of coffee.
And when he drank coffee, he smoked. The smell had permeated into the car. Which meant Roberto was infused with the smell. He sniffed the warm leather material of his jacket that until today had smelled of wind and sun.
Maybe he was hard on smokers, but watching his mom die of lung cancer when she was fifty, and he nineteen, had left an impression on him. He wanted to hand Luke his gun and say, “Make it easy on yourself.”
Luke, standing by the door, stomped out his Marlboro and reached for his fly. Shit, the guy’d probably have his dick out before he got to the bathroom.
Finally alone, Roberto checked his phone to see who was responsible for his phone’s vibrating.
He hit missed calls. Austin, Tyler, Austin, junk call, Tyler. Roberto had no plans to call them back, not now. The next time he called he hoped to give them Rafael DeLuna’s funeral announcement.
Frowning, he went through the calls one more time—hoping Sara’s name would appear. Not that he’d call her back. He hadn’t answered her call last night. He still liked believing she was thinking about him.
His phone vibrated again. His breath caught when he saw the number.
Checking to make sure Luke was still inside pissing, he answered the call.
“You aren’t at the diner,” Brad said. “Did you take my advice and leave?”
“ ’Fraid not.” Roberto sighed. “Look, Sandy’s freaking out. Call her.”
“Not yet,” Brad said. “Did you see my girls, too?”
“No, just Sandy.”
He sighed and paused. “So where are you?”
About five miles from becoming a drug runner. “With Luke. I’m helping with a drop.”
“Goddamn it. Please tell me you’re not in Louisiana.”
Roberto’s shoulders tightened. “Why? What’s happening?”
“There’s gonna be cops all over that place. Get out. Get out before you get killed or locked up.”
“How do you know this?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter. Just trust me.”
The phone went silent.
“Shit!”
Roberto’s mind raced. He could just walk away. Get out of the car and disappear while Luke had his dick in his hands. That would be walking away from DeLuna and his need to vindicate his wife and son. He could go in and either get shot or arrested. Maybe both. Or pray Brad was talking out of his ass. How the hell would Brad know this unless…?
Was Brad now trying to sabotage DeLuna’s operation? He had to be if… DeLuna had more people going after him than a dog had fleas. Staring at the phone, Roberto knew he had to make a decision and fast. That’s when he realized Luke had left the keys in the car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing?” Luke asked when he stepped up to the car.
“I’m driving,” Roberto said. “You drove the whole way here.”
“It’s my car, asshole. Get out.”
“No can do. The reason Cruz wanted me here was to make sure the drop sight was cop-free. I want to drive around before the deal goes down.”
“Then tell me where to go,” Luke snapped.
“If I’m giving directions, I’m not focusing.”
The big goon’s crooked nose reddened with obvious blood pressure. Roberto didn’t care. Behind the wheel, he had more control. He’d rather take on Luke than the Louisiana police. Although, Luke would probably be willing to kill him a lot quicker. Risky? Yes. But he wasn’t walking away from his chance at DeLuna.
“Get in.” Wh
en the man didn’t budge, Roberto added, “I swear if this goes down wrong, I’m gonna tell Cruz and the Boss that you stopped me from doing my job. If you think what Cruz plans on doing to Brad’s bad, imagine what he’ll do to you.”
Luke fisted his fat hands as if wanting to yank Roberto through the window. Then the goon huffed and moved around to the other side of the car.
One problem solved. Now all he had to do was figure out if the cops were really at the drop site. And if they were, he had to convince Luke to call off the drop. While the deal wouldn’t go down, they wouldn’t be handing over more of DeLuna’s powder product to the cops. Of course, Roberto would need proof that the deal had been compromised.
No easy task, considering he had less than an hour. But if successful, this might work in his favor. Cruz would trust him. The closer he got to Cruz, the closer he got to DeLuna. The sooner he could walk away from this seedy life. Maybe he could start over again. Give life another try.
An image of Sara filled his head. He pushed it away. “How’s this supposed to go down?” he asked as Luke dropped into the car.
When the man didn’t answer, Roberto hit the steering wheel with his palm. “Talk, or I call Cruz and tell him you’re not working with me.”
“We sit out front of the coffee shop a block off Bourbon Street,” he said. “One of us wears a red baseball hat. I got it in the trunk. They find us, show us the dough, and we show the powder. We switch off.”
Not if the cops were watching. “Have you met these guys before?” Roberto asked.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
Roberto gripped the steering wheel as an idea formed. He needed help. And he knew the perfect person.
“You’re a good boy.” Leah set Spooky on the examining table.
No threatening phone calls. No wine headache, and a shot of caffeine. Even with the poor night of sleep, and after glancing at her office’s shrinking bank account, it felt like a good day. She was being optimistic, both about her decision to talk with Eric Taylor, the new vet in town, and about her half brother. But she hoped Rafael had realized he was wrong about Luis’s involvement and had moved on.
“You used it, didn’t you?”
Leah glanced up at Sara. “Used what?”
“Your purple friend.”
“No.” Leah chuckled.
Sara pointed a finger at Leah. “You sure? Because you’re smiling, and that’s not been the norm lately.”
Yeah, Leah had hit a rough patch. But things were looking up. “Positive.”
“What are you doing?” Sara moved in.
“Giving this guy his shots. Tonight, I’m delivering him to his new owner.” She’d thought about it driving here. He bought her coffee; she’d bring him a cat. Seemed like a fair trade.
“He agreed to take him?”
“Not yet, but I’ll persuade him.”
“How?” Sara wiggled her eyebrows.
“I’ll get creative,” Leah teased. She gave Spooky a scratch behind the ear and reached for the needle.
Sara moved in and held the docile cat. “You’re going to start seeing him, aren’t you?”
The question had played on her mind all morning, but hearing it aloud caused an emotional knee jerk. “Maybe.” She dropped the syringe in a metal pan. “I might regret it.”
“Or you might not.” Sara bumped her shoulder. “Go for it.”
Leah inhaled. “It happened so fast. Five days ago, if you’d told me I was planning to let some guy into my life, I’d have asked what you were smoking.”
“Love at first sight,” Sara said.
Leah shook her head. “It doesn’t exist. Lust at first sight, maybe.”
“But according to the experts, that’s a good start. Studies show that within three minutes a person recognizes a possible mate.” She tapped her nose. “Have you smelled his armpits?”
Leah laughed. “No.”
“You should. If his pits smell good, he might be your man.” When Leah continued to giggle, Sara said, “I’m serious. Google it. You’ll see. Good armpit smell means, come on, baby. Bad armpit smell… back away from the merchandise.”
Leah gasped. “Okay, what have you been smoking?”
Sara scratched Spooky behind his ear. “I’m not making this up. I sniffed Spooky’s rescuer’s arm pit.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “You did not.”
“That’s why I agreed to have lunch with him.”
“What did you do? Raise his arm, bury your nose in his pit, and say, ‘Okay, lunch is on’?”
Sara laughed. “No. It was an accident. I was putting some old files up in one of the high cabinets and he came up behind me to help. I didn’t know he was there and I swung around, and that’s where my nose went. One sniff and I could have stayed there all day.”
Longing filled Sara’s voice.
“He hasn’t called you back yet?” Leah asked.
“No, and I don’t think he will.” She shook her head as if to shift her thoughts. “So now I need to find me another armpit to sniff.” Humor laced Sara’s voice, but disappointment still shadowed her eyes.
Leah remembered Austin giving her his shirt that day in the parking lot. She’d believed the wine had made her drunk. Could it have been his smell instead?
“Why did you tell me this?” Leah frowned. “Now, tonight all I’m going to think about is sniffing his armpits.”
“Whose armpit?” Evelyn appeared at the door. “The neighbor’s?”
“You two are incorrigible,” Leah said.
“We try.” Humor left Evelyn’s eyes. “Eric Taylor’s on the phone. He said you called him about lunch today.”
Leah’s chest ached. She’d wanted to tell both Evelyn and Sara first.
“You’re gonna sell half the business to him?” Sara asked.
“I’m talking to him.”
“I don’t think it would be a terrible thing,” Evelyn said.
“Me, either.” Sara glanced at Leah. “But I kind of like our all girls’ club.”
“Me, too,” Leah said. “I just want to hear his ideas.”
“I think he wants more.” Sara made a funny face.
“If he says all the right things, then—”
“I’m not talking business. I’m talking about your business.” Sara waved her hand in front of her boobs. “He just got a divorce.”
“Please. He’s not interested in me.”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn said. “I saw him checking you out. Actually, I saw him checking you both out. Not in a disgusting way, just a second-glance kind of way. The way a man will move his eyes past you and then come back for another eyeful. Then their eyes twinkle a bit.” Evelyn sighed. “I love that look.”
“Me, too,” Sara said.
Leah sighed. “You two are such a bad influence.” Yet Leah couldn’t deny loving that same twinkle when she’d seen it in Austin’s eyes.
Roberto knocked and stood back on the porch steps. He held the red hat and an empty briefcase in his hands, praying this was the right thing. If this went wrong, Roberto wouldn’t be able to live with himself… or die with himself. Even in the afterlife, Anna would kick his ass for getting her baby brother in trouble.
The door opened. “Friggin’ hell!” Freddie hugged him. “We thought you were dead.”
“You thought wrong.” Roberto looked back to make sure Luke hadn’t followed. He’d parked a block up and walked. He’d only told Luke that he had a plan and would be back in five minutes.
He was down to three minutes now.
“Come in.” Freddie, looking half asleep, stepped back. Was the kid still tending bar? “Where the hell have you been?”
Roberto didn’t have time for chitchat. His phone in his pocket vibrated. He knew who it was, too. He’d barely gotten away from the car when Luke called Cruz.
“Look,” Roberto said, “I don’t have time to explain. But I need you to do something. And I’m not going to lie to yo
u. You might have the cops up your ass, but they can’t get you on anything. You won’t be doing anything illegal.”
Freddie studied him and then smiled. “This is about Anna, isn’t it? You’re still chasing that son of a bitch.”
“Where the hell did you go?” Luke waited outside the car. “Cruz’s livid.”
“He’ll be more livid if we end up losing his merchandise to the cops.”
Roberto’s phone vibrated again. He pulled it out and got into the passenger side of the sedan. He checked the number to make sure he was right about the caller.
He was.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Cruz asked.
“You sent me here to do a job.” Roberto gripped the phone. “I’m doing it.”
“If you were doing the job, you’d be casing the diner right now!”
“That’s where we’re going!” He waved at Luke to start the car.
“What the hell are you up to, Rivera?”
“I told you I was lucky. Well, I lied. I’m more than lucky. I’m a damn psychic. And right now I sense trouble. I’ve gotten this far following my instincts, and that’s what I’m doing now. Making sure we either walk away with your money or with the Boss’s powder. Or would you prefer we get arrested and lose everything?”
“If you screw this up, I’m personally going to slit your throat. And I’ll enjoy it, too.” Cruz’s tone told Roberto he meant it.
“And what if I’m right?” By damn, Roberto hoped Brad wasn’t shitting him.
The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Austin buried his head in the pillow. Leah? He jackknifed out of the bed, snatched his jeans from the floor, and searched his pockets for his phone.
“Hello,” he said, afraid to take the time to check the number.
“What took you so long?” Tyler asked. Frowning, Austin eyed the clock. How long had he slept?
Only two hours.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I got news. But why don’t you call me back when you can be nice.”
“Sorry,” Austin bit out. It wasn’t Tyler’s fault Austin had stayed up all night fantasizing about a petite brunette with dimples. “What you got?”
“Tony called. He ran the serial number on the gun.”
Texas Hold 'Em Page 21
