“I can drive.” She twisted against her seat belt and found the thermos.
“Do you know how to drive a stick?”
London laughed, thinking of the many different cars she had driven before being old enough to have a driver’s license. “I can drive anything,” she promised.
They pulled into a roadside rest stop and London stood on her side of the car, stretching and squinting against the sunny sky. The air was crisp, and snow covered the ground in patches. There were a few other travelers, none parked too close and all going about their business, ignoring her and Marc. It was a quick, hard rush she hadn’t anticipated, being on the road, no one around her giving her a thought. Every time they’d taken off when she was a kid, London had listened to her parents as they grew eager for the next town, discussed the golden opportunities awaiting them there. London had shared their excitement, not knowing any better or any different. The same rush of excitement attacked her now.
“God, you’re sexy.” Marc wrapped his arms around her from behind before she finished stretching.
London jumped but smiled when she tried twisting in his arms. “I admit I’ve enjoyed the view you’ve been offering, too,” she said.
His blue eyes matched the color of the sky. “Have you, now?” he said, his voice dropping to a husky drawl. “You were a thousand miles away just now. What’s on your mind, London?”
“Oh gee. I don’t know. Maybe that I just left my job and home to travel to another state with a man I just met, all because I’ve received pictures in the mail of my parents whom I haven’t seen in years.”
His expression grew solemn as he searched her face. When he touched her cheek, there was something so incredibly gentle and comforting about it, London closed her eyes, unwilling to let herself drown in his gaze. Marc would sweep her off her feet without even trying; then she’d have no one to blame but herself.
“As intense as all of that sounds, there’s more to it than that,” he said, continuing to stroke her cheek with his fingers.
“Oh, lovely,” she said, wrinkling her nose and making a face when she opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Do tell. I love a good mystery.”
He smiled and she saw how tired he was when the sun highlighted the dark shadows under his eyes.
“First, let’s do that bathroom run,” she added, thinking the sooner he got some sleep in the car the better it would be. Not to mention, standing so close to him with his hands on her as they were made her ache to have sex with him. She didn’t know when that would happen so she didn’t want to get herself worked up about it.
They were back in the car and Marc finally accepted that she wouldn’t wreck his car and relaxed in the passenger seat when London’s cell phone rang. He jerked his head up, looking around the car as she gestured behind her seat.
“My purse,” she indicated, pointing behind her seat. “My phone is in my purse.”
Marc pulled her purse into his lap and opened it, finding her phone and glancing at the screen before handing it to her. “Can you talk hands free?” he asked.
“If I put it on speaker.” She saw Meryl’s name on the screen and took the call. “Hi, Meryl. Hold on; I need to put you on speaker.”
Marc turned down the heater in the car and returned to his reclined position, although London doubted he was trying to fall asleep.
“Hey, girl, how are you doing?” Meryl sounded cheerful as usual. “I figured I would check up on you, make sure everything is okay.”
London couldn’t help smiling. She hadn’t elaborated on anything before leaving. Meryl was insightful enough to know this was a unique type of adventure and wanted to make sure London was all right. It felt good having a friend, knowing someone out there cared about her.
“You’re such a sweetheart,” she said, grinning at her phone, which she held in between her fingers while holding on to the steering wheel. “And I’m doing fine. We stopped at a roadside stop and now I’m driving.”
“Okay. I won’t keep you. This guy asked about you after you left. He seemed surprised you left work.”
Marc rolled his head on his seat, glancing at her and then the phone.
“Who was it?” London asked.
“He said his name was James Huxtable. He said you two were friends, but I’d never seen him before.”
“We’re not friends and don’t tell him I left town. If he asks about me again tell him I’m home sick, or something,” London said.
“You’ve got it. I figured he wasn’t telling me the truth. There was something about him I didn’t trust. You know I’m good at reading people.”
“The best,” London said, and couldn’t help agreeing with her. There was something strange about James Huxtable. “Feel free to call again if you need to,” she added before saying good-bye.
“You don’t want a private detective knowing you’re out of town?” Marc asked when she’d dropped her phone into her purse, which was still on his lap.
She took her purse from him and slipped it behind her seat. “I agree with Meryl. I don’t trust him.”
“Why not?”
“He was very evasive, wouldn’t answer my questions, and when he did he spoke in riddles. Worse yet, he knew he was talking in riddles and seemed to get off on how it frustrated me.”
“Sounds like a creep.” Marc didn’t elaborate but closed his eyes.
Eventually London started exploring Marc’s car, learning how to work the radio and then finding his CD collection and popping a classic rock compilation into the CD player. Marc’s breathing slowed and grew raspy. He never started snoring, but his heavy breathing let her know he was finally sound asleep. She kept the volume low and sang under her breath to Eric Clapton while enjoying the drive and beautiful day. The peaceful surroundings didn’t completely relax her thoughts, though. London couldn’t help wondering what more there was to the story that Marc had mentioned at the roadside stop.
By the time they reached Arizona, London had become familiar with the GPS, and even found Marc’s atlas stuffed between the seats. She was glad to see that even though he used modern technology, he hadn’t turned his back on the classic reliability of a good atlas. London compared notes, made sure the GPS understood where they were going, and was proud of herself when she pulled into the motel late that night where Marc had told her he and his brother were staying.
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” she whispered, nudging Marc after she’d parked and turned off his car.
“What?” He jerked awake, looking around and appearing confused for a moment.
“We’re here.”
“We’re here?” he repeated. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t need you to be awake.” She’d never understood why every man believed no woman could navigate from town to town without his assistance. “I just figured I’d wake you up before I went to get a room.” She ran her hand over his soft hair that was flat on one side of his head from sleeping. “I wouldn’t want you waking up in the dark all alone and getting scared,” she teased.
Marc cleared his throat as he straightened and opened the passenger door, letting the cold night air flood the nicely warmed car. “You’re not getting a room. Jake can get a room.”
“I thought he got shot.”
Marc wagged his finger at her over the hood when she stood on the driver’s side. “Don’t you dare baby him. He’ll milk it until you’re exhausted.”
London didn’t say anything else, deciding she would have to meet this brother and draw her own conclusions. Marc pulled her luggage out and carried it, walking ahead of her after they locked up the car. She stared at their surroundings as they hurried across the practically empty parking lot. Everything was so dark and so quiet, but she couldn’t shake an unnerving sensation that someone was watching them. It wasn’t a feeling most people probably understood. But, growing up, quite often the local police were watching them. London grew to understand the difference between knowing when she was safe and when she wasn’
t.
“The key is in my front pocket,” Marc told her when he stopped in front of a motel room door and faced her with her luggage in his hands. “You have to get it out.”
“I do?” She didn’t miss his satisfied grin when she slid her hand into his pocket and felt a plastic card. She also felt his cock jump to life and snapped her attention to his face. His smile had changed into an incredibly innocent expression. London almost laughed out loud and possibly would have if the prickles weren’t going down her neck. “I swear someone is watching us,” she whispered, easing the card out of Marc’s pocket and sliding it into the lock by the doorknob. “I know it sounds weird, but it’s a sensation I get from time to time and usually I’m right.”
“I believe you.” Marc didn’t say anything else as he looked over her head into their dark surroundings. “We’ll be inside in a moment.”
London followed Marc into his room but stopped just inside the door and let her eyes focus in the dark room. A large man, a very large man, lay on one of the beds damn near naked, wearing just boxers. He had a mop of curls fanned around his head and dark hair across a very muscular chest. His long bare legs were slightly spread and his feet were bare. She would have gawked at what were probably size 14s if it weren’t for the hard-on that created a tent in his boxers.
Marc put her luggage down and flipped on one of the lamps. “Good God, man,” he snapped, slapping the man’s foot hard enough to make him leap to a sitting position. “Put some fucking clothes on. You knew I was bringing London here.”
She noticed then that Jake’s shoulder was bandaged and part of the gauze wrapped around under his arm was stained with something dark. She guessed blood.
“Jake!” Marc barked, raising his hand to strike his brother’s foot again when Jake simply sat in the middle of the bed, tousled hair that almost fell to his shoulders giving him a very bad-boy appearance. “Wake up,” Marc ordered.
“Hey,” Jake said, giving her a crooked grin and an appraising once-over. “I’m Jake, Marc’s better half.”
Marc grunted and walked to the other side of the second bed to turn on the rest of the lamps. “Get dressed,” he ordered again.
“He’s always this grumpy. I’m the nice one.” Jake slid his long bare legs off the side of the bed and reached for jeans with one hand. “Welcome to our home away from home.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you,” she said, diverting her eyes when he stood.
Jake gave her another crooked grin when he carried his crumpled clothes and moved past her to the bathroom. London didn’t turn to watch him leave.
“There’s blood on his bandage,” she said after the bathroom door closed.
“I’ll take a look at it here in a few,” Marc said, walking up to her. “Are you okay? Jake is a terrible flirt, but he’s harmless. I promise. If he gets too annoying just clobber him, or tell me and I’ll do it for you.”
London didn’t doubt for a moment that he would. She remembered the picture she’d been sent of the two of them and knew Marc would defend his brother to the death as well. In spite of how he talked about Jake, Marc cared for his brother and it showed.
“How was your trip?” Jake asked when he came back out of the bathroom. He wore faded jeans but no shirt and was still barefoot. He’d dampened his hair and straightened it, although loose curls fell around his face. The day-old growth on his jaw and thick, muscular torso were enough to make any woman drool. It was quite clear Jake knew this about himself, which somehow diminished his sex appeal. “You two hungry? I’m starved. Let’s order pizza and get acquainted.”
Marc took London’s hand and pulled her to him when he sat, encouraging her onto his lap. He was staking his claim. London wondered if they’d spent a lifetime competing for ladies. She could only imagine how lucky any woman would be having these two hot on her trail.
“Are you hungry?” Marc asked, his warm breath tickling the side of her face.
“Order food if you want.” She wasn’t convinced letting anyone come to the room was a good idea but forced herself to trust these two. “I’m not that hungry.”
“You’ve hardly eaten anything today.”
“Maybe she’ll change her mind when it gets here. I’m ordering pizza.”
London listened as they decided on their order and Jake placed the call. After he relaxed again on the bed where he’d been sleeping, London excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she came out they were discussing the pictures London had shown Marc.
“Let me see them,” Jake said. “They sound identical to the ones that came to the house. Did you get action figures in the mail, too?” he asked her.
“Action figures?” London sat on the edge of the bed closest to Marc.
“Marc got the wedding couple with her head chopped off and we got Mr. and Mrs. Incredible and she was beheaded, too,” Jake explained.
London gawked at him. “You got a woman without her head in the mail, too?”
Jake looked serious for the first time since she’d met him, which helped her see a strong family resemblance. “When Marc told Dad about the figurines he was sent, Dad knew you were in trouble.”
“Jake,” Marc began.
“It wasn’t until you told Marc about getting the pictures that it sunk into his thick head and he raced up to get you. Now we just need to figure out why you’re involved in this mess, too.”
“Slow down,” Marc ordered. “You’re scaring her.”
“I never thought this was about me. It’s about my parents, and apparently yours, too.” She’d show Marc she could handle this, and more if it was sent her way. They didn’t know each other really well yet, but Marc would see she knew how to take care of herself and had for quite a while now, as in most of her life. “It’s our parents that brought us together.”
He gave her a knowing look and she simply smiled, unwilling to let him sway the conversation into something more personal. Exhaustion would kick in soon enough after all the driving she’d done, but until it did she would discuss this with both of them.
“Do you have the pictures that your family received?” she asked.
“Get yours out, too,” Marc said, standing both of them up, then moving around her to their luggage.
A few minutes later London stood in between both men, feeling incredibly short, and stared at all of the pictures they’d spread out on the bed.
“Good Lord, they really are all identical,” she said under her breath, and tried studying them as a detective would.
“Tell us again what that private dick said to you,” Marc said.
“Huh?” She looked up at him, tearing herself away from the pictures and glimpses into Marc’s happy home life.
Marc ran his hand down her arm. “That James Huxtable guy.”
“Who?” Jake asked.
“A private investigator came to my work,” she began.
They were both so tall. London moved to the chair at the desk, sat and put a bit of distance between her and the two of them. She could see how anyone would feel safe with both of them nearby. They were damn near giants, and both of them incredibly sexy at that. As much as they looked alike, there was something incredibly different about the two of them, too. Marc moved with a silent confidence, his expression hard and commanding when he was focused on something.
Jake, on the other hand, had a slow, almost lazy drawl about him in his speech and his mannerisms. His longer hair and crooked smile made him appear the bad boy out of the two. At the moment, though, his expression was as serious as Marc’s. Both of them were taking in all information, processing it, and working to solve a mystery.
“What was his name?” Jake asked.
“James Huxtable. He gave me his card, but it didn’t say anything on it other than his name and a phone number.”
“Did you ever call it?” Jake asked.
When she told him no, he simply nodded. Both of them sat, each of them taking a separate bed, and watched her, waiting for her to continue.
>
“The first time he showed up he gave me his card. I was at work at the lodge. I work at the front desk,” she added for Jake’s benefit. “He asked if Jonnie and Ruby Brooke were my parents.”
“Jonnie and Ruby,” Marc repeated. “I don’t think I knew their names.”
“They’re my parents and I told him that.” London glanced down at her hands, knowing the time had arrived. Marc would find out sooner or later, and it might as well be from her. She shot him a furtive look. “Have you heard of them?”
He shook his head. “Should I have?” he asked. “What do they do?”
London sucked in a breath. “My parents are fairly well known in their own circles,” she said, then decided not to beat around the bush. “I guess you could say they are a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.”
Chapter Ten
It was the last thing Marc expected her to say. He realized he must have appeared stunned when London lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers in her lap. Jake let out a hoot, shaking his head as he leaned forward.
“Your parents are bank robbers?” he asked, just as stunned and started laughing.
“They don’t limit it to banks,” she said, her soft tone hard to hear as her hair sifted over her shoulder and covered part of her face.
Her shame was obvious and suddenly Marc felt sorry for her. “Go on,” he told her, shooting Jake a hard look and shaking his head once as he mouthed to him to shut up. “Tell us the rest of what the PI said.”
London cleared her throat and sucked in a breath, shoving her long, silky black hair behind her shoulder as she looked from Jake to him. “He told me they were on the most wanted list, which didn’t surprise me, and he wanted to know if I knew where they were.”
“What did you tell him?” Marc wanted to slide off the bed and pull her into his arms but worried she didn’t want that at the moment.
London sat with her back straight and her expression pinched when she continued. “I haven’t seen or heard from my parents in at least a few years, maybe more, which isn’t unusual,” she continued. “He acted like he didn’t believe me, though. When he showed up this morning I confronted him before he could me. I asked if he knew where they were and he didn’t. But then he speculated that probably one of the game players had them, and that he just didn’t know which one.”
Get Lucky Page 18
