Ginger was right, there were a couple of girls left over from last night hanging around. One a blonde and the other a brunette, they were both on the short side—though not nearly as petite as Talia—and dressed in shorts that showed off thin, toned legs and a lot of ass. He doubted very much if they had on any panties underneath, but that was just par for the course around there.
Currently, they were busy wiping down counters and filling the trash can with various detritus from the party. Already there were several industrial-sized bags piled up by the back door, but there was going to be many more where that came from later.
The blonde noticed him first, and she sent a sharp elbow flying into her friend’s ribs. “Hey, Country,” she cooed, her smile a mile wide. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Her friend eyed him with a predator’s gleam that would normally have him plotting out how fast he could talk them out of their clothes and onto their backs for a threesome to remember, but for some reason, he wasn’t feeling it today. Instead of being sexy, it felt a little creepy.
“You look hungry,” the friend observed. Leaning on a broomstick, she traced her cleavage with her finger. “Can we fix you something to eat?”
As if he needed a dictionary to decode her meaning. They were going to be mighty disappointed when he turned them down. “Yeah, I was thinking some eggs, maybe bacon if you can find any. Oh, and some orange juice. Two glasses.”
Sure enough, their alluring smiles melted into deep frowns.
“Oh, okay, sure,” the blonde said, setting the cleaning rag and spray bottle aside. “Is this just for you…?”
She was fishing. Trouble was, she wasn’t going to get the answer she wanted. “Nope, for two. My friend is nursing a bit of a hangover. A good breakfast should fix that right up.”
“Oh?” The blonde’s expression brightened as she moved to gather the ingredients from the fridge. “Are you talking about Wayne? Because he was a beast on the keg last night. That handstand he did was insane, wasn’t it, Katie?”
The brunette did a brilliant impersonation of a bobble head. “Totally insane. He killed it though. I’ve never seen anyone chug that fast.”
Their dual gazes shot back to Tucker expectantly. He ignored it and leaned a hip into the counter, crossing his bare feet at the ankle. “Wayne can drink anyone under the table. I swear the man’s blood is made of ninety percent alcohol. I wish I would have been there to see it, though. I bet it was pretty awesome.”
“You missed it? Where’d you go?” the blonde asked, beating eggs into a frying pan.
“Like I said, taking care of a friend.”
“That’s so sweet of you. I bet he’s glad you were there to help.”
Tucker smirked at her obvious play. “I don’t know how glad she is,” he emphasized, “but she will be once she sees this wonderful breakfast.”
The blonde’s lips pressed together, and she got to work focusing on those eggs. There wasn’t much talking after that, which was expected. Once a woman realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, they usually resorted to pretending he didn’t even exist. Which worked just fine. Especially today. Tucker was only interested in entertaining one woman at the moment, and she was currently unclothed in his bedroom.
He’d like her to stay that way.
“Can you put a rush on that, doll? I’m kind of in a hurry.” He smiled the same smile that had won many a woman over, and it worked like a charm, just as he’d expected it to.
Within no time at all, Tucker was thanking them and on his way back to his room with two steaming plates heaped high with yummy goodness, and two cups of OJ—freshly squeezed courtesy of blondie’s capable hands.
Talia was going to be blown away. If he was really lucky, she’d be so amazed and taken back by his generous offer that she’d join him in a little game of Sit-and-Spin before she went on her way.
It took some careful maneuvering and some creative problem-solving skills to figure out how to balance everything and open the door without creating a disaster, but Tucker eventually managed to make it back inside the room.
Kicking the door closed, he noted that Talia was nowhere in sight. Figuring her to still be in the bathroom, he took a moment to set everything up, placing a plate and glass on each side table then fluffing the pillows and straightening the blankets to set the perfect breakfast-in-bed ambiance.
Standing back, he surveyed his handiwork, pride puffing his chest. “Hey, sugar, I brought somethin’ for you.”
When he didn’t get an immediate response, he crossed to the bathroom, hoping and praying that he wouldn’t find her folded over the toilet again.
What he found was a whole lotta nothin’.
“Talia? Sugar,” he called out, even though his eyesight was twenty-twenty and the bathroom was the size of a small closet, and it wasn’t like she was hiding behind the shower curtains.
He ducked back out, surveying his room with fresh eyes. There was nothing of hers there. Not a shoe or a purse or even that sexy pair of lacy boy shorts he’d peeled off her last night.
Propping his hands on his hips, he stared at the plates of untouched food and cursed.
She’d left. Without a word, Talia had walked out on him.
Again, had it been any other woman, that shit would be awesome. The mark of a truly perfect woman. But this was Talia, and Tucker didn’t like it. Not one bit. In fact, he was peeved. Truly, thoroughly, and royally peeved.
Walked out on him? Hell no. No one walked out on Tucker Abrams without at least giving him the courtesy of a goodbye kiss.
Throwing on last night’s clothes, he grabbed his wallet and keys and was on his bike before the food had a chance to cool.
FIFTEEN
Humiliation, degradation, shame. Those were just a few of the things Talia felt as she threw herself down on her government supplied couch in her government supplied apartment. As if it wasn’t enough that she’d completely embarrassed herself in front of Tucker, she was forced to come home to an apartment that was nicer than anything she’d ever owned.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t a hardship, really, but it was just another reminder that she didn’t have her life as together as she thought she did.
After leaving her husband, surviving a legal battle, and starting fresh in a city she knew nothing about, Talia just assumed that diving into work and amassing some assets was the fix she was looking for. Now she realized that maybe it was all just a mask to cover the shit stain that was her life.
She didn’t feel any better about her situation, now that she had the benefit of viewing it from arm’s length. But again, maybe she was just being a whiner. Her life wasn’t all that bad, right? She had a nice job, a cushy lifestyle, and nothing about her days could ever be called boring.
The hangover must be giving her more than just a headache, she mused. It was also giving her depression and taking her on a trip down memory lane that she just wasn’t inclined to go down.
Screw hangovers and the booze they rode in on!
Dragging her ass off the couch, Talia forced her legs to carry her through the apartment in search of aspirin, and if that didn’t take care of it, she was going to sleep for days. One way or another, she’d send it packing…just like she had—
Yep, not going there.
Her head pounded like a drumbeat, each thump keeping perfect time with her footsteps. Fishing the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet, she tossed a couple back and scrunched her nose at the salty taste they left behind on her tongue. Disgusting little things.
A freshly made bed called to her, and she went into her room, kicking off her shoes on the way. She sunk into the memory foam, gingerly lying on her back, closing her eyes and mentally counting sheep.
Unfortunately, her thoughts proved too loud to sleep, and Talia began thinking of the party and Tucker and all the people she’d met.
His friends were nice. Way nicer than Ingram and Kellerman led her to believe. They didn’t seem dangerous at all,
once you got to know them. They were friendly and charismatic, entertaining and always laughing at something. They were playful, even, telling jokes and chasing each other around. They liked kids, too. A few of them even had some of their own, wives too, and Talia didn’t have a doubt in her mind that they loved them fiercely and without measure. It was in their eyes and their words. If there was one thing she took from it all, it was that family was number one. Who couldn’t respect that?
“Probably Frank,” she muttered, still feeling bitter about her last interaction with him. He was a real toad sometimes, and not the kind that could be turned into a prince. He was the real deal, warts and all. It was a mystery to her what any woman saw in him, except she figured they just didn’t get to see the Frank she knew. He must be a good liar. Then again, who was she to talk? They all made their living based on their acting skills, and she was probably the worst of them all at the moment.
It didn’t make her feel good to know that she was snowing Tucker. Not at all. It was a problem she’d never run into before. Usually, the kind of people she encountered while on assignment left very little to be desired. In fact, they invited her contempt and eagerness to take them down. This was the first time that she felt nothing of the sort. In fact, she felt like she was doing something wrong, and that just wasn’t okay in her field. A person had to believe in their cause in order to get the kind of results they were looking for.
Talia did believe in the cause. She had to. Those women were depending on her. She just didn’t know if it was enough. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were looking in the wrong place, at the wrong people.
But she, better than anyone, also knew that a wolf often paraded around in sheep’s clothing. No matter what she may or may not be feeling, Talia knew she needed to set aside her personal feelings and stay focused on the job. It didn’t matter who she liked or how nice they were to her, she wasn’t there to make friends. She was there to pretend to make friends. There was a fine line, yes, but there was a line, and she needed to toe it for as long as possible.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Talia lifted her hips, digging it out of the restrictive jean material with an agonized groan. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone right now. Even the sound of her hair scratching against the pillowcase was too loud.
She checked the name on the display before answering. “Made it in safe and secure.”
The man on the other end responsible for keeping tabs on her replied in monotone. “Noted. We’re parked around the block if you need anything.”
She hung up without offering any formalities. She just wasn’t in the mood. The man’s voice lingered in her head a while after she deposited the phone on the bed beside her. She still remembered the first time she’d ever been assigned a tail. It was strange, knowing there was someone—or several someones—following her everywhere, listening to her calls and conversations, mapping out her every move. Even stranger still was how commonplace it had all become. Now she was able to find a measure of comfort in knowing that there was always someone close by if she needed them.
With that thought, she finally began to feel drowsy enough to begin drifting off. If she was lucky, she would sleep for days. It would be a blessing too because Lord knew she didn’t want to suffer through every long moment aware of her splitting skull.
She was dancing along the fringes of a dream when she heard the rumble of a…motorcycle? That couldn’t be right. She was probably dreaming and just didn’t realize it. Well, at least it would be a good one. A really good one if it involved a certain shirtless biker.
Her phone began buzzing again, vibrating the side of her thigh where the corner of hard plastic touched. Talia scowled even with her eyes still closed and blindly reached for it.
“Hello?”
“A member of the club just pulled into the parking lot,” her mysterious stalker friend informed her. “Approximately six four, weight two-twenty to two-forty, light brown hair, wearing a leather vest, black undershirt, and jeans. Appears to be heading your way.”
Headache not exactly forgotten but set on the back burner in lieu of her freaking the fuck out! Talia flew out of bed and rushed to the window. “ETA?” she asked while parting the mini blinds. She didn’t need the update, however, because Tucker was trudging her way, his strides long and powerful, eating up distance faster than her heart could beat.
And he looked determined.
She’d hate to be the unfortunate person who dared to step in his way. Because he looked as if he would just bowl them right over.
God, he was sex on two legs. It wasn’t fair how attracted to him she was. Like coming down with the flu, if it got any worse, it was going to compromise her ability to work the case, and that just couldn’t happen.
What was he doing there anyway? And how did he know where “there” was?
“You have thirty seconds or less,” the man in her ear said. “Do you need backup?”
She blinked at the question. Did she? Would he hurt her?
“Agent McKinnon, do you need backup?”
She blinked again. Rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “No. I’m fine. Stand down.” She strode from the room, heading for the front door and for the man who turned her insides to jelly at the same time as striking fear in the pit of her stomach.
“Remember, we have eyes on the building and ears inside. If you need anything, anything at all, give the code word. We can be there in less than a minute.”
If Tucker meant her harm, whatever he could do to her would certainly take less than that. She doubted she’d even have the opportunity to call for help before he offed her, so whatever was about to go down, she was on her own.
A heavy fist pounded on her door as expected before she had even replaced the phone in her back pocket. The hammering grew louder, jolting her nerves. Only a few steps away, Talia paused, turned back around, and retraced her steps. The bureau in the dining room held a standard issue pistol. In her heart of hearts, she knew that Tuck wouldn’t hurt her…
…but the heart was a proven liar. One ex-husband and an overpriced divorce attorney was proof of that.
“Coming,” she called, checking the clip on her way back. Fully loaded and ready for business—she hoped it didn’t come to that.
Tuck’s hand almost hit her in the nose when she ripped open the door. “Whoa, shit!” He yanked his hand back at the same time Talia reeled to avoid having anything broken.
Thanks to the nature of her job, she’d been on the receiving end of a busted nose a time or two, and she wasn’t eager for another surgery. The recovery time was a bitch, and being out of commission for however long it would take to heal wasn’t something she wanted to repeat any time soon—or ever.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was a bit waspish, but that was all for show. Inside, Talia’s heart rate had spiked, and she’d bet her skin was a ripe shade of red, although he’d probably liken it to anger before he’d connect it to lust.
Lust. Was that what this was? A simple chemical reaction in the brain, something that was normal and expected when faced with someone who looked like sin incarnate, not to mention was completely unavoidable.
There was never any accounting for the body’s natural reaction to its environment. That was just another part of what made her job so interesting. Always new scenery to explore and adapt to. You didn’t get that with an average desk job.
Tuck’s expression flattened at her question and the way he eyed her, so stern, so intense, gave her shivers—the good kind.
“You left.”
“Yes, I did,” she said slowly. But really, how cute was that? He actually tracked her down because why? She didn’t say goodbye?
Strong and fierce. Play hard to get, she’d been told once. Men loved that. It was like ambrosia to their little minds. Crossing her arms under her breasts, she smirked when his gaze dropped, then fixed him with the same glower her mother always used on her father; it was potent enough to make any ma
n cower.
Not so with Tuck, though. Once he caught her look, he planted his giant feet and gave it right back. Just another reason to like him, she mused. He wasn’t easily cowed.
“How do you know where I live, Tuck? I know I never told you.”
“This isn’t a big town, sugar. Your last name was enough.”
“I’m not listed.”
“Would you believe me if I said I have mad skills when it comes to computers?”
“Probably not.” She’d seen people with “mad skills” when it came to tech, and somehow a biker who spent his downtime between the sheets didn’t strike her as the type to know his way around high-tech machinery.
Now, an ex-agent who’d had the training for such things was another story. It wasn’t a far leap to guess that he’d used his intelligence to look into her backstory. He’d find it solid, she had no doubt.
“Then we’ll just have to agree to disagree. Now back to my original reason for being here.” He took a step closer, his booted foot crossing the threshold and forcing her to step back. He only followed, mirroring every step until he was fully inside. He continued to advance until her back hit the Carrera countertop of her open-concept kitchen.
Looming over her, he pulled out the big guns—and by that she meant that he used that sexy southern accent, dropping it down low and smooth, like butter on a warm summer’s day.
Good Lord, now she was making up bad metaphors. The man was reducing her to a brainless pile of mush.
Light fingertips tickled her bare shoulders, trailing slowly down her arms. Goose bumps prickled across her skin, but it wasn’t from just his touch. The way he was looking at her was powerful enough to make the rest of the world disappear.
“Do you know the one rule I live by, Talia?” he purred, all pure seduction and testosterone that was impossible not to melt for.
She shook her head, suddenly mute.
His lips quirked at the corners. Leaning in, he buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her neck before answering. “No woman is allowed to leave without a goodbye kiss.”
Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2) Page 11
