ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance)

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ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) Page 3

by Maxi MacNair


  He took it, examined it, and fixed her with his blue eyes. “Don’t worry about it officer, just doing your job I guess.”

  Randi asked him he had seen a black Jetta driving fast and frantic in the past few minutes.

  “No officer, I can’t say I have, but I’m doing some shopping around this area for a little while still, I can ask around and call you if I hear of anyone seeing something.

  Randi opened her mouth. Closed it again. Glanced at her watch. He was really very good looking, clean cut, neat dark hair, a sharp, expensive suit. His lips were full, his nose long and aquiline. His chin and jawline strong.

  “Ummm, ya okay, thank you sir. If anything comes up you should call me.”

  She could tell he was sizing her up. Randi was used to being looked at differently when people saw her as an officer. She fished a card out of her wallet, and handed it to him. “Use the cell number on there. I always pick up.”

  He read her card, and his eyebrows raised. He looked her up and down, taking in her tiny physique and blonde hair.

  “A detective?”

  “Yup, I’m on duty right now as you know, and have to run. Literally.”

  Chris buzzed in her ear. She was bringing the car around to pick Randi up.

  The man seemed amused, but didn’t say anything.

  His looked changed though, he regarded her differently. Randi wasn’t used to being looked at like this when she was on the job and her stern and official persona dropped away. In the midst of all that chaos and adrenaline a very strange and real moment occurred. It looked like there was something he desperately wanted to tell her.

  “So…call me?” She gave him what she hoped was a winning smile, because she realized she really liked the look of him, and in any other circumstances would’ve wanted him to call for entirely different reasons. Then she ran off towards Chris and the car. She left him—she hadn’t even caught his name!—standing in the sidewalk with his bags of presents.

  As she slid into the passenger seat of the warm Impala, the radio crackled and dispatch let them know the black Jetta had been located—drenched in bleach and set on fire. Someone had just called the fire department and the flaming Jetta was literally a few blocks from where they were. She glanced back over her shoulder. The perp was out there somewhere, close to where she’d been. She hadn’t noticed anyone in the black sweats all three robbers wore when they left the bank. There wasn’t time to dump the car, bleach the car, and change. He must have gone another way.

  Chris drove them to the site of the burning car, already surrounded by yellow police tape and an-ever growing crowd. It was an empty parking lot surrounded on three sides by tall office buildings. The two women got out, though they knew there wasn’t much they could do, the fire would take care of most of the evidence. Randi though overheard a statement a uniformed police officer was taking from a couple goth looking teenage boys in long trench coats.

  “Didn’t see anybody man, we were just waiting for the bus when this dude came around the corner holding a bunch of presents and told us there was a fire. By the time we went to go look, the car was like a total ball of flames and that’s when we called the fire department.”

  Randi stopped for a moment to go and ask them more about this man, could it be the same guy she just met, but then stopped herself as three other guys carrying wrapped boxes elbowed their way through the crowds. The chances that he was the same were probably one in a million. She looked up at all the windows that looked onto the parking lot. Better chance if she started there and coordinated everyone into checking with all those people. The first snowflakes of the season started to fall, sinking lazily from the grey sky. Jingle bells played loudly from the speakers out front of a nearby store, and Randi knew it was going to be a much longer day than she had hoped for.

  * * *

  James Moore stared down at the card in his hand. Detective Randi Gagnon. Detective who was on the run, searching for a suspect as they spoke.

  Searching for him.

  **Keep going to check out another Look Inside Preview**

  Look Inside Preview of “Taken by the Clan Alphas”

  * * *

  “Hey baby, wanna go for a ride?”

  Ruby Reynolds glanced across her Uncle Dave’s auto parts store, where she worked. Sure enough, Dave was still out back calling in the week’s parts order. When she started here, approximately three weeks ago, the first thing he told her was not to go racing with any of the local boys, but how can she resist. It’s been three weeks now in this dusty small town in the middle of no-where Montana and she was so bored. This was the first offer she had been given so far that actually sounded like a little fun. Who cares if she had been pre-warned about guys like this, Ruby Reynolds was no stranger to being a bit of trouble herself now and then. It was actually kind of nice being the one who was warned to stay away instead of the other way around like it was most of the time at home.

  Her uncle indisposed, she turned her attention back to Mac Crow. “I’d love to.” She leaned in on the counter, well aware this provided Mac an enhanced view of her cleavage. It wasn’t Ruby’s fault the uniform shirt couldn’t quite keep the girls contained. She wasn’t sure if it was an oversight on her uncle’s part, or a strategic business decision. She tucked a strand of jet-black hair behind her ear and gave Mac a lipstick smile.

  He was good looking, for sure. Almost a little too muscular for her taste: here was a guy who spent a lot of time at the gym cultivating his physique. Light brown eyes she would almost call amber. Gorgeous coppery skin. She could see bear paw prints tattooed in black creeping up his right arm and disappearing under the sleeve of his black t-shirt. She knew he bore a full color image of a grizzly bear across his back. She had seen it before, the bear on the rocks, fishing for salmon. She also knew he had a tattoo of his car, an inky Nissan GT-R, tattooed on his right side next to his rock hard abs. He wore his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail usually.

  “I get out at nine. Is that too late?”

  “I’ll be just getting started. Pick you up here?”

  She glanced again at Dave. Still out back. “No, I’ll meet you. The 7-11?”

  Mac let his gaze roam around Ruby’s ample form. “See you then.”

  Dave came out of the back as Mac was leaving, and glared at his receding form. “No good,” he said to Ruby. “Was he bothering you?”

  “No sir, he was sweet as punch.”

  “It’s all an act. Kid’s no good. Gonna wreck that fancy car of his, break his momma’s heart. Gonna end up killing someone around here if he doesn’t check himself soon.”

  Ruby pretended like she was heeding his advice like she had a few hundred times already before she spoke. “I thought I might go out with Sandy after work tonight.”

  “I’ll leave the light on for you. I’m glad you’re making friends.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Dave.”

  It was seriously that easy.

  In May, Ruby finished up her junior year at the University of Montana in Missoula. Her parents were in the middle of a nasty divorce, so they arranged for her to come up here, to Pinewood Junction, to spend the summer with Uncle Dave and make some extra money working at his auto parts store. Ruby hadn't heard from either of them since she got there. They were probably too wrapped up in fighting each other to really care what she was up to anyway. Nothing new there, that was for sure.

  For the past three weeks, Ruby hadn’t done much. She met Sandy, hung out with her and some friends a few times, but she’d been watching Mac and Travis, two local gearheads who roared around town in their fast cars. They were certainly the most interesting things Ruby had found in that town. Sandy told her the two were rivals at just about everything.

  Time crawled until eight. Ruby switched the sign on the door from open to closed. She counted down the registers, tidied the aisles, swept and mopped. She finished up a little before nine, and wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself to kill the time. She went into the bathroom
and pulled off the uniform shirt. Underneath she wore a tank top. Her pants were a tight pair of jeans which flattered her generous ass. She was no size zero, but she knew she was good looking. She wished she had opted for her push up bra today. If she’d known she was going to get asked out, she totally would have. She adjusted things with the bra she had on under the tank top to reveal as much cleavage as possible.

  Walking slowly, she switched off all the lights and locked the store door behind her. Her uncle would open, she would close. That was their schedule for the summer. She didn’t mind. It made it so she could sleep in until ten at least. She walked the few blocks to the 7-11, past a few of the town’s bars. One more year before she was old enough to drink. Back in Missoula she had a fake ID, but her mother found it and cut it up in front of her right before she left. Ruby knew she should have just moved out of there a long time ago. She was through being in the middle of her parents war with each other. Tired of getting the brunt of the anger they couldn’t dish out to each other. With what she saved this summer she should have a pretty good head start with being able to pay rent on a place of her own for next semester. After that, who knows. Ruby knew she was young enough to try and fail at more than a few things still in her life. She knew that if only her parents were okay just accepting a failed marriage a long time ago things would be so much easier for everyone. Ruby knew she wouldn’t let herself get like that ever.

  One of the bars, the Grizzly Den, was an old garage and on warm nights like this one they rolled up the big bay doors. The raucous sounds of the night life filtered out to her, and she decided what the heck, she didn’t see a bouncer, she would try and get a drink. She still had twenty minutes before she was supposed to meet Mac.

  She walked in like she owned the place, and could feel every eye on her. She put a little extra waggle in her walk, and went up to the bar. She ordered a Miller Lite, like it was something she did every day.

  Travis Johnson appeared at her elbow. To the bartender he said, “I’ve got this one.”

  Ruby blushed. “Oh you don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” She felt his gaze on the tops of her breasts and made a point to stick her chest out.

  The bartender brought the beer, and Travis walked her over to a table by the open garage door.

  “What brings you here tonight?”

  Ruby’s mama always taught her to be honest, and she had no idea why she needed to keep a secret from Travis. Her Uncle never really talked to him. For sure he was in the shop at least a few times a week, but her Uncle usually seemed to keep his head down when he interacted with him. “I’m meeting Mac at nine, I had some time to kill.”

  “Meeting Mac.” Travis looked amused. “And what are you and Mac going to do?”

  “He’s going to take me for a drive in his nice car.”

  “That Japanese piece of crap? You want to ride in a car, I’ll take you for a ride.” Travis drove a 1972 Chevelle painted a pearlescent white. Having an old car like that was one of the reasons why he was in the parts store so often. But it sure sounded powerful, and it glittered and shone in the sunlight.

  “Oh yeah?” Ruby pulled out her phone and looked at the time. She downed the second half of her beer in one big gulp. “Sorry handsome, too late this time, I’ve gotta run.”

  “Hey sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But really, just don’t go see him. He’s…dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” This gave her pause. What did Travis mean?

  “You don’t want a guy like him.”

  “Oh, and I want a guy like you?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m dangerous too, but not like Mac. I mean it. Seriously, stay away from Mac. He’s bad news.”

  Ruby thought of Mac’s sexy ponytail, his muscles. Travis had similar, but also slightly bigger build. His muscles came from hard work at his father’s junk yard. She heard he could pull a motor out of a car himself, though she didn’t see how that could be possible. He didn’t have any tattoos (that she knew of) and most of the time he kept his short, black hair covered by a baseball cap. He was very similar to Mac, but also completely different. For one, he definitely spent more time fixing his car that parading it around like Mac did his. He was definitely quieter than Mac, which was cute Ruby had to admit, but the early bird always gets the worm in Ruby’s mind. If he really wanted her to go out with him instead of Mac he should have taken his head out of the hood of his car and come over to ask her, but she wanted to know what kind of reason he would give for why she shouldn’t go out with Mac.

  “Tell me what you mean? What does he do that’s so dangerous?”

  Travis looked flustered. “Hey, I’m just trying to help you out. Just watch yourself with him.”

  He won’t be doing anything to me that I don’t want him to do, Ruby thought. She looked forward to being alone with Mac even more now. There was nothing that made her want to do something more than when people told her she shouldn’t.

  **Keep Reading for a Preview of one of the Extra Bonus Stories**

  The Soldier’s Baby (Look Inside Preview)

  ~

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  The barista grinned as she punched the order into the register decorated with a string of tiny Christmas lights. The varying colors were punctuated with gold plastic bells and sparkling red ribbons. There was a miniature poinsettia next to the tip jar.

  “No, just the tea, thanks,” I said, struggling to open the bag at my side while keeping its strap properly balanced over my shoulder. My new winter coat had a ruffled collar that, while undeniably trendy, already got in the way more times than I’d care to count.

  As I searched for my wallet, I was well aware of the line forming behind me. I pulled out pamphlets and crumpled receipts, shoving them into my coat pocket so that I could dig further down into my bag. I muttered an apology to the girl at the register. She nodded with an over enthusiastic smile, but there was no mistaking the tension beginning to form in the air. Having worked retail during the holiday season in my early twenties, I understood how waiting customers could make her shift miserable. But of course my wallet was at the very bottom of my bag.

  “Here,” I said, finally handing her a ten dollar bill. She gave me my change and the receipt.

  “And your name?”

  “Claire.”

  “Alright, we’ll call you when it’s ready.”

  Luck suddenly on my side, I was able to snag a small table against the window looking out onto the square and the towering Christmas tree adorned with cascading rows of white and blue lights that pulsed with life against the dark backdrop of early evening. It was a beautiful night, some stars actually visible beyond the orange city lights, and not as cold as it had been the last couple days. A group of young people walked past the window, huddled together and blowing puffs of white steam into the air. A child tugged on his mother’s sleeve, perky and wide-eyed as if he’d just heard her mention Santa Claus.

  I sighed, running a hand over my stomach and glanced a table over. That was where we had sat together, before he left. We had made jokes about how we were trapped right below the over-compensating air conditioner. Somehow, even with the cafe running heat, I still felt a little cold.

  “Claire!”

  I jerked up at the sound of my name, my heart jumping at the possibility of him being early. But it was just my tea. I bit my lip, scolding myself for getting so foolishly worked up. Leaving my purse on my seat, I darted over to the counter to grab my drink. I topped it with a single shake of cinnamon, and a drizzle of honey. I looked at the tin of flaked of chocolate, stared at it a little and caught the corners of my lips curling up. He had added so much of them to his cappuccino that I informed him he should have just ordered a mocha. He retorted by saying a mocha wasn’t a “man’s drink”, whatever that meant.

  Sitting back at my table, I pulled out my phone. Still early. I checked my email, but there were no messages. I tucked a strand of hair behi
nd my ear, twirled it around my finger a bit. I sipped at my tea then checked my social media feed. I scrolled a bit, but I couldn’t really remember anything of what was there. Something about “10 Ways To Make A Man Crazy” and something else about “Enjoying The Holidays Without Weight Gain”. My thumb automatically tapped to open the articles, but the text blurred, my mind drifting to images of dark, curled hair and how that single unruly lock would peek out behind his ear. I wondered if the one inside my belly would have a similar lock.

  It had been nearly eight months since he had left for duty. Nearly eight months since— whatever it was we had. Was it a fling? Having been deployed to a remote location, his actual job in the military really not something he would openly discuss. Correspondence between us regular but not routine. Usually two to three weeks would pass between messages. When I told him I wanted meet when he returned for the holidays, he agreed, but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was just looking for another round of fun before probably getting sent out again.

  I scratched at the side of my neck, sighing into my cup. I wondered how would he react to the news. Was any of what we had back then still lingering? Had it truly meant anything? But it could just be my rollercoaster-ing hormones suggesting that. Maybe I should have listened to Tamara when she said to just pretend it was someone else’s and move on… But no. I had made up my mind and asked Derek to meet me today, once his plane landed.

  My heart told me I was making the right decision, but my stomach tumbled like there was a little gymnast inside it. I shouldn’t have come so early. I could have easily squeezed in another episode of Sex In The City and still made it on time. At least that would have distracted me.

  I leaned back in my seat and watched as an elderly couple entered the cafe holding hands and placed an order to go. The short woman chuckled, adjusting the glasses on her nose, as her husband mispronounced her order twice. Over the speakers, a female voice sang about love and starry, wintery skies. I imagined them walking outside with their coffees, arms laced together to keep each other warm, whispering sweet everythings to each other. They left with their drinks, arms linked together as I anticipated, but lips moving only towards their cups.

 

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