I paced the small space between sofa and kitchenette, sifting through the facts. It was too convenient, only it wasn’t. I was the one who approached Markie at the restaurant the first time we met. Someone would have had to place her at the restaurant, and then at Matt’s, and then outside of the Stratosphere. The locations were random, not exactly places I visited on any particular schedule. Only a handful of people knew about them, and Bones had dragged me to Matt’s in a last-minute decision to bust the guy’s face in. Nobody could have known we’d see Matt at the club and go there.
And the roses.
I called the hotel front desk, but they assured me that no flowers had been delivered to Markie’s room or any other room yet that day. Frustrated, I continued to pace. Why would Markie have roses—which she was clearly allergic to—delivered to her own hotel room? Nothing made sense.
Still, I couldn’t pretend Markie looked squeaky clean. She’d been checking into my family on her phone! We had less than fifteen minutes before we were supposed to leave for dinner and I didn’t know what to do. If Markie was dirty, and we went to the restaurant she’d selected, it could be a trap. If Markie was dirty and we called off the night and stayed in, she’d know her cover was blown.
And what if she is clean?
Truthfully, it was impossible for me to imagine Markie—homeless-feeding, orphan-serving, dimpled, sweet Markie—as dirty. I didn’t even want to entertain the thought. But her story had holes in it.
Someone stole her camera? What’s the chance?
Curious, I opened a browser on my phone and checked it out. Several sites warned of luggage theft, strongly suggesting that passengers carry on their valuables.
“What are you thinking, Angel?” Bones asked.
I pulled up the restaurant on my phone and passed it to Jamie. “What do you know about this place?”
Jamie shrugged. “Not much. It’s legit. Family owned. None of the locals have sunk their teeth into it yet.”
I handed my phone to Bones. “Markie wants to take us there.”
Bones didn’t even look at the phone. “No. Absolutely not.”
I ignored him. “You have friends in the business, Jamie? Enough to cover this place?”
“Yeah. If I remember right, there’s three doors. We could watch it with six men. Two at each.”
“Angel,” Bones scowled, gesturing toward the closest room.
I excused us and we left Jamie sitting on the sofa so we could talk in private. Bones ranted and raved about what a horrible idea this was, and I stood and listened. Once he finally ran out of steam, I jumped in.
“Do you really think Markie’s dirty?” I asked.
His brow furrowed. “She could be.”
Bones was hands down the best judge of character I had ever met. Over the years, I’d seen him make hundreds of judgment calls—who to trust, who to watch, who to avoid—and never once had he been wrong. So I pushed him into giving me his opinion.
“Yeah, but do you think she’s dirty.”
“Angel, if I’m wrong—”
“Answer the question.”
His scowl told me he knew what I was doing and didn’t appreciate it. But I only had to suffer through his glare for a handful of minutes before he finally conceded, shaking his head. “No.”
It was all I needed to hear. I set up security for the restaurant with Jamie and sent Bones down to scan the Hummer while I went to collect Markie, feeling much more hopeful about the situation and determined to have a little fun.
We stepped through the swinging double doors of the restaurant and over the Mexican border, landing somewhere south of Tijuana. Heady spices tickled my nostrils as an authentically dressed doorman, sporting a sombrero and all, greeted us. A lively mariachi band played in the left corner, next to a busy dance floor. To the right, families crowded around brightly-painted wooden tables sharing platters piled high with food.
Despite his foul mood, Bones’s stomach growled.
Markie’s smile stretched across her face. “This is perfect! Better than I’d imagined.” She grabbed Bones and me by our sleeves and towed us toward the hostess stand. We were shown to a booth not far from the band. Markie and I ordered margaritas while Bones asked for water and soda.
Atmosphere lively and energetic, food smells intoxicating, it wasn’t long before Bones eased up and helped us pick out dishes to share family-style. Then Markie tugged on my hand and asked me to dance. Bones nodded. His hand stayed wrapped around the gun in his pocket. My friend was neither relaxed nor calm, but at least he wasn’t turning green and flexing through his clothes.
Mariachi music wasn’t exactly a genre my dance classes had covered, but I followed Markie onto the floor anyway. The two of us stood back and watched dancers for a half song before she dragged me in to try it. There were lots of spins and kicks, a few claps and sidesteps, and we struggled to follow the flow. There was one move—a half-spin step—that Markie couldn’t quite master. Every time we tried it, she mis-stepped, tripped, and then threw her head back, laughing. Her whimsical laughter was infectious and before I knew it, the tension in my back was gone. Face glowing, breathing heavily, blonde curls framing her dimples, Markie was hot in more ways than her temperature. It took everything I had to focus on the dance steps. By the time Bones waved us over to eat, both my body and my breathing were responding to her.
“So much fun! You wanna dance after we eat, Bones?” Markie asked, sliding into the booth.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Thanks anyway, but I’m not much of a dancer. It was fun to watch you two, though. Been a while since I’ve seen Angel enjoy himself like that.”
Bones nodded at me, and I could see all he wasn’t saying. Although my friend was apprehensive about Markie, he wanted this for me as much as I did. Regardless, we both knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. But for now, I’d enjoy the moment and to hell with the consequences.
“After we eat I want another shot at that spin-kick move,” I told Markie.
She laughed. “Deal!”
By the time we returned to the hotel, the sun had gone down and a cool breeze had picked up. Bones, Markie, and I grabbed our jackets and flip flops and headed to the beach. Bones followed closely as I strolled beside Markie, thinking about the day’s events. Dinner had gone off without a hitch, and Jamie’s team saw nothing to alarm them. Still, the tracker on the Hummer and Jamie’s attack kept bugging me. I couldn’t help but feel like I’d missed something.
Markie stopped, picked something up, brushed it off on her dress, and then offered it to me. “A sand dollar for your thoughts?” she asked.
I accepted the little white disk, turning it over in my hands as we resumed our walk.
“Either you don’t know how this works, or you must think your thoughts are worth more than a sand dollar?”
“Hmm?” I asked.
She giggled. “Here’s the deal. I give you something and in exchange, you tell me what’s on your mind. You’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”
I inclined my head. “Oh, sorry, I was just relaxing and enjoying the evening.”
Even in the dark I couldn’t miss her look of disbelief. “Did you just lie to me?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing about you is relaxed, Angel.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the poster boy for relaxation.”
The musical notes of her laugher floated through the night. I savored each tone like they were my favorite treats.
My phone buzzed with an incoming message. Bones, standing less than five feet away from me, texted me to tell me he was going to sit on the boat dock we’d just passed, where he could keep an eye on us. My friend was giving us privacy. Or getting a better look at the surrounding area. I couldn’t decide which.
“You guys are always together, aren’t you?” Markie asked when Bones was out of earshot.
Another question I needed to skirt around. “I do a lot of technical design, and these design
s would be… inconvenient in the wrong hands. Bones is my bodyguard, and his job is to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
It wasn’t the full truth, but it was close. I’d danced this dance my whole life. The steps were all about containing enough truth within the lie.
Markie looked toward the dock. “Your bodyguard? You seem so close, though.”
“We are. We’ve been friends since grade school.”
“Wow. That’s really great,” Markie replied.
Waves rolled in and out, drowning out the sounds of the city. She turned and walked just to the water line, staring out to sea. We stood in silence as the water tickled her sandaled toes, and the wind whipped her hair around her in a blonde halo. She looked almost ethereal, bathing in the moonlight by the ocean. It took my breath away.
“It’s so incredible,” Markie whispered.
“Yeah it is,” I replied, meaning so much more than the scenery and feeling like a giant loser for thinking it.
She stood for a few moments before plucking a piece of driftwood from a wave. Then she took a few steps away from the water and bent, using the driftwood to write in the sand. The tide was coming in, and as she wrote, the waves rolled closer until they finally erased her work. She took another step inland and wrote again.
When curiosity finally got the better of me, I asked, “What are you writing?”
She finished off the word she was working on and stood. “Mistakes, regrets, anything holding me down.”
I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but that definitely wasn’t it. “Why?”
The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders answered me. “It feels like confession. Like getting rid of all the junk, you know? Seemed like a good idea to write it all down and let the waves take it away.” She offered me the stick. “It’s very freeing. Would you like to try it?”
I shook my head, unable to speak. She was such a beautiful person, and so different than anyone I’d ever met.
“No biggie. You should give it a shot someday, though.” She tossed the stick into the waves and sucked in another deep breath. “Better. Want to dance again?”
Actually, I did. One problem, though. “No music.”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” she hurried to say.
“No, I do.” I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to me. “I really do. I just… are we talking slow dance to the sound of the waves?”
She tilted her head at me.
I chuckled. “Wow, again with the corny line. What about you makes me talk like I’m trapped in some cheesy chick-flick?”
Markie laughed. “I don’t know, but I apparently make you forget you’re supposed to be some sort of tech-loving geek, too.” She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. Moonlight glinted off its face as she waved it from side to side.
I did a face palm. “You’re really showing me up here.”
Markie thumbed her phone on and within a few seconds “Earth Angel” blared through the surprisingly loud speakers. “That’s okay. Good songs can solve all problems,” she announced.
The fact she’d chosen one of my favorites made me want to hug her and bury my face in her hair. “True,” I acknowledged, knowing my biggest problem kept growing.
She slid the phone back into her jacket pocket, muffling the sound as she positioned her hands on my shoulders. I pulled her against me and settled mine on her waist. We swayed slowly to the music as the notes fought to be heard over the sounds of the surf. Halfway through the song, Markie lowered her head to my shoulder. Our bodies moved in sync, melding into one. Every inch of me was alert and aware of how close she was, wanting her even closer.
The song ended and another began, another of my favorite tunes from the drive. A smile tugged at my lips as the thought warmed me from the inside out. I closed my eyes and held her close, afraid the darkening night would somehow extinguish my beautiful ray of sunshine.
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I glanced at my cell long enough to see the message. “Pelino planted the tracker. Proceed with caution. - Tech.”
A chill ran down my spine. Why the hell would the Pelinos be tracking me? Of all my father’s men, I was probably the least interesting. They had to have put it on in Vegas. Or maybe they followed us to the diner and put it on there. Either way, my father’s enemies were keeping tabs on me, and that didn’t exactly give me warm fuzzies.
Bones jumped from the dock and started walking toward us.
“What’s wrong?” Markie asked.
I slid the phone back into my pocket. “Bones wants us to move back to the hotel. We’re out past bedtime and I’m sure he thinks I’m going to turn into a pumpkin or something.”
“A pumpkin, huh?”
Markie was shivering, so I took off my jacket and put it over her own. Bones was almost upon us, and motioning for us to hurry. I grabbed Markie’s hand and we picked up the pace. Once we reached the hotel, Bones asked Markie if he could check her room. She seemed startled by the question, but didn’t object. She opened the door and waited for him to go in and invade her privacy. She even closed the door behind him, leaving the two of us waiting in the hall.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Now that she knew Bones was my bodyguard, I could use her knowledge to bend the truth a little. I waved off her question. “Bones is paid to be paranoid. He runs a lot of drills, acting like we’re in danger or something to keep himself sharp.”
“Sounds like he’s good at his job,” Markie said.
I shrugged. “Yeah. Sometimes a little too good.”
Bones opened the door, announcing that the room was free of threats before heading next door to check out ours. I knew I only had a few precious moments before he reappeared and dragged me out of the exposed hallway. Desperate to make those moments count, I stepped closer to Markie.
She leaned against her door, hair wind tousled and face flushed. I leaned in and wiped a streak of smudged makeup from her cheek. Her eyes widened at the contact, and I wondered if she felt even a smidgen of the electricity bouncing between us.
“You had something on your face,” I explained.
“Oh, thanks.”
Was that disappointment? Did she want me to touch her?
Her cheeks reddened. “So, tomorrow…”
I cut her off with a wave of my hand. “Nope. You planned tonight. I have tomorrow handled.”
“You do?” Her eyes lit up. “What’s on the agenda?”
“It’s a secret, but I think you’ll dig it.”
“A secret, huh?” Her smile widened, and she pulled away from the door. “Not even going to give me a hint, are you?”
An answering smile tugged at my lips. “Nope. But I will thank you for a lovely evening. Great pick on that Mexican restaurant.”
“Major score. And those margaritas: perfection.” She kissed the tips of her closed fingers, and then spread them out as she pulled her hand away.
As her hand fell back to her side, my attention lingered on her perfectly shaped lips. I wondered what it would be like to feel them against my own. My gaze drifted down her neck. She noticed me looking and took off my jacket, offering it back to me.
“Thank you for this,” she said before turning to leave.
I grabbed the door handle, stopping her. She leaned into my arm, her gaze traveling to my face. Then she licked her lips. It was the only signal I needed. I put my hands on the door, on either side of her face, and leaned in. Our lips touched. My tongue tasted tropical lip gloss and lime. Her hands traveled up my arms and then gripped my biceps, pulling me closer. She opened her lips to me and I explored her mouth. She tasted beautiful. Magical. My senses came to life, touching, tasting, smelling. I breathed her in, and every inch of my body responded. I wanted to hold her, to caress her, but I kept my hands where they were. Markie needed to control the situation.
And, she did. Suddenly her body bucked forward, shoving me away. She pushed open the door and leaped backwards, over the threshold of the ro
om. She stared at me, cheeks pink and lips swollen, a combination of desire, fear, and regret spinning in her bright blue eyes. She took another step back and lowered her head.
“Sorry, Angel, I can’t,” she whispered, her voice husky.
Can’t what? Can’t kiss me? Can’t be with me? Can’t let me in?
“I gotta go. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” she asked.
Before I could answer, she closed the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Angel
AFTER LAST NIGHT’S cold-shower-worthy exchange, I was worried about how the day would go. Regardless of my concerns, Markie answered her door wearing a sundress and a smile. She welcomed me in as her gaze drifted over the long-sleeved gray T-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers I wore, my jacket draped over my arm.
Her attention shifted back up to my face and she said, “All right, buck-o. I know you’re being super secretive about today’s plans, but I’ve got to know what to wear.”
“Buck-o, huh?”
“Yep. Now spill. Where are we going?”
I gave her my best poker face and leaned against the back of the sofa. “Yeah, I’m not telling you that. I can, however, suggest you change into jeans. Maybe grab a jacket. Also, bring your swimsuit.”
“Okay, I’ll change, but I’m planning on bringing all of my clothes. I just called down and checked out of the room. We’re going back to Vegas tonight, right?”
It wasn’t like I expected her to want to stay with me at the coast forever, but did she have to sound so ready to go home?
“Right. Bones and I got a late checkout, so we can stash your stuff in our room until after we’re done adventuring.” And with any luck, we’d stay another night. After all, Father’s associates had until this afternoon to make their decision, and the old man hadn’t ordered me home yet.
Markie slipped into the bedroom to change, leaving me alone and too curious for my own damn good. I pulled the device finder from my jacket pocket and scanned Markie’s suite. Cell phone, hotel phone, laptop. Nothing nefarious or unexpected. Relieved, I breathed deeply and slid the finder back into my pocket.
Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family #1) Page 15
