Secret Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 5)

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Secret Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 5) Page 4

by Marysol James


  “Good,” Jax said, running his hands through his dark hair, messing it up even more than usual. “Sarah’s going dress shopping next week with her Mom, and she’s already spinning in circles about it.”

  “Yeah?” Mac said, glad to have something to talk about besides King’s wrecked face. “She going with Annie?”

  “Yeah. They’re both so damn excited, it’s unbelievable.” Jax grinned fondly as he thought about Sarah’s beautiful eyes alight with happiness. “Our living room coffee table has been taken over by bridal magazines, man. All I’ve been hearing about these past few days is is lace too traditional, and is a waltz-length dress flattering to curvy legs, and are sheer sleeves Sarah’s friends.”

  Mac and King stared at him in utter incomprehension, drank some beer in self-defense against having to answer. Some days, they still couldn’t believe that Jax Hamill – quite probably the biggest man-whore to ever set foot in one of Curves’ back fuck rooms – was getting married. But he was, and his friends had never seen him happier, or more at peace.

  “Oh,” Mac said brightly, trying to sound supportive, and like he had a clue. “Uh-huh. Sounds great.”

  “Well, actually,” Aidan piped up, pouring out a beer and handing it to Kenleigh to take to her table of clients. “The trend for wedding dresses next spring is long, sheer sleeves with a bit of lace, which would look great on Sarah. Also? Tell her that she doesn’t have to go white or beige or cream, yeah? Blue is hot right now for brides.”

  The men switched their bewildered stares to Aidan. Even Jax looked stunned.

  “Uh… blue?” King said. “Blue wedding dresses?”

  “Not all blue, like blue all over, and not bright blue,” Aidan explained. “Really pale material, and maybe darker blue on some of the details, like around the waist or on the bodice. With her blue eyes and red hair, I think that Sarah could totally get away with a blue wedding dress.”

  “What the fuck, man?” Mac said. “What are you doing, knowing this shit?”

  “Gabi.” Aidan’s gold eyes lit up as he grinned at their befuddled expressions. “She’s in Sarah’s wedding party, and so she’s been coming home from their coffee meetings bubbling over with all this information. I’m basically held hostage, and I’m absorbing it against my damn will.” He shot King a glance. “But you’d know all about this too, yeah? Naomi’s in the wedding party, right? Doesn’t she come back from seeing the ladies, and want to talk about the latest styles in wedding dresses?”

  King looked away. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I suppose she does. But…”

  He stopped, torn between wanting to keep his personal shit personal, and actually talking to his friends for once.

  “What?” Mac said, surprised at King’s uncharacteristic hesitancy. “But what, man?”

  “But… well.” King sighed, decided to just go for it. “I – I haven’t been home that much lately. Not when she’s there, anyway.”

  Three sets of eyes studied him closely. The men waited, saw that King was actually fidgeting. He was twisting one of his heavy silver rings around and around, and his discomfort was palpable. Right away, they were all on high alert.

  “OK.” Mac kept his voice low. “Where have you been?”

  “Out.”

  “We got that, man. Out where?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Naomi’s not doing so well with it lately.”

  King looked up now, met Aidan’s bright gaze, saw understanding flash across his face. Naomi and Aidan were both alcoholics, and so ‘not doing so well’ for them could mean many different things. None of them very good.

  Mac also knew about Naomi’s battle with alcohol, but Jax didn’t, so the other men said nothing more. It had been Naomi’s choice to share that personal information with them, and there was no goddamn way they were betraying her trust.

  King, Mac and Aidan exchanged knowing, worried looks, and Jax saw it.

  “What?” Jax said quietly.

  King shook his dark head. “Nothing. I don’t think she’s handling all these ops and stake-outs and take-downs well, is all.”

  “But this is nothing new,” Mac said. “You’ve always been involved in this kind of thing. When you guys first got together, she knew about King’s Men. You guys talked about your job and what it means, right?”

  “Sure we did.” King shrugged his massive shoulders. “But when we first started dating, most of my time was spent at the garage, you know. My involvement in King’s Men was actually pretty controlled. I outsourced most of the work, and I’d be hands-on maybe once every three months. When we moved in together, things got more intense, with all this Fallen Angels shit, but I promised Naomi that things would calm down. They did for a while, but since I flipped the tables on Ace and got him to keep me in the loop about Jensen, I’m hands-on pretty much all the time… and we’re fucking busy. Me and the team are stretched, actually, and I’m thinking about hiring at least four new people to handle the work that just keeps coming.”

  “OK,” Aidan said calmly. “So how often are you out on ops now?”

  “Twice a week, at least, usually three times.” King’s deep voice took on the tone of a confession. “Last week, it was almost every night.”

  “What?” Jax stared at King, horrified. “You’re out doing dangerous shit every other night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Mac was stunned. He’d seen with his own damn eyes what one of King’s ops looked like: it had involved killing a violent, dangerous man and blackmailing another, and he was sure that that had been a slow, tame night. “Why didn’t you say something to us?”

  “What’s to say?” King retorted. “You guys know what I do. You know who’s in my pocket. You’ve seen me show up here these past few weeks, beaten up and barely walking. You’ve seen the news. What the fuck did you think was going on?”

  They fell silent. Yeah, they’d known.

  “And Naomi?” Aidan said. “How much does she know?”

  “Nothing concrete.”

  “Christ, King.” Mac huffed out a breath. “C’mon, man, that’s not OK, and you know it. You can’t just disappear almost every night, and show up back home looking like this –” Mac waved his hands at King’s face, “– and not tell her something.”

  “I don’t want her to know,” King said. “She doesn’t need to know all this dark, evil shit. This ain’t her world, and I don’t want her anywhere near any of it.”

  “But she is near it,” Aidan pointed out. “She’s near it when she’s near you.”

  King glared at Aidan. “Fuck off, Carter.”

  “I will not,” Aidan said. “Don’t be pissed at me, just because you know what I’m saying is true.”

  “It’s not true,” King snarled. “I can keep her away from all of that. I can keep her safe.”

  “Well, it’s nice that you want to protect your woman,” Mac said. “But you do remember what happened when I wasn’t honest with Mirrie about a dangerous situation? She dumped my ass, after informing me that she had a right to know when I was in danger. She had the right to worry about me, man.” Mac shrugged. “That’s what we do when we love someone… we want to know if they might not come home.”

  “Of course I’m going to come home.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry,” Mac said. “I forgot that you can deflect bullets with the power of your glare, man, thereby totally guaranteeing that you’ll never, ever be killed by some fucking lunatic drug lord, or crazed pimp, or hard-boiled serial killer.” He blinked his blue eyes. “Yeah, my mistake.”

  “Fuck off, Mac,” King growled.

  Mac turned to Jax. “Well, me and Aidan have to fuck off now, so you’re the last man left standing, Hamill. You try to reason with him.”

  Jax was staring at King hard. “How much time are you and Naomi spending together, Matt?”

  K
ing jumped a bit at Jax using his real name. “Well, not much. I mean, I’m out all night and sleep during the day while she’s at work. And she’s traveling now, so she’ll be gone for about a week.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jax sighed a bit. “So you aren’t even really talking, are you?”

  “I just told you, man,” King said tightly. “I’m not gonna involve her in anything to do with Jensen.”

  “I’m not talking about your work, OK?” Jax’s husky voice was gentle. “Forget about King’s Men, and Kirk Jensen, and all that. Yeah? What I meant was, are you talking to Naomi about movies, or what you’ll order for take-out, or how her artists are doing? Are you talking to her about anything?”

  “I… I’m…” King floundered, then fell silent as realization hit him smack between the eyes. Naomi had tried to tell him this very thing just that morning, but he hadn’t wanted to face it. “No. I actually can’t think of the last time we spoke for real.”

  Fuck. And it’s worse than that, isn’t it? When was the last time that I made love to Naomi? It was… oh, Christ. It was weeks ago. She must feel so alone right now.

  “Well, I’d say that that’s gonna wreck your relationship with her faster than any goddamn special op, man,” Jax said with his usual, and totally unnerving, no-bullshit and bulls-eye honesty. “Not only are you leaving her totally in the dark about what the hell you’re doing that’s getting you hurt, but, from her perspective, you’re also checking out of the relationship.”

  King didn’t say a single word. He knew that he had nothing to say – at least not to the guys. There was only one person for him to talk to… and she was in Miami. He couldn’t believe that he was taking relationship advice from Jax Hamill, of all people, but he was. After all, when it came to his woman, Jax had his shit together in a way that the other guys didn’t. At least, not yet.

  “King?” Aidan said softly. “You OK?”

  “No,” King said, taking a disconsolate swig of beer. “I’m an asshole.”

  “Well, yeah,” Mac said cheerfully. “But not irredeemably so. I mean, it’s not a permanent state of existence for you. You can still fix this, man.”

  Finally, King cracked a grin. “You think?”

  “Oh, sure.” Mac nodded. “All you have to do is open your mouth and talk to the woman, King. That’s it.”

  “Yeah.” King stood up, pulled his cell out of his pocket. “Can I use your office, Jax?”

  “Of course.” Jax tossed over the key. “Go. Call Naomi. Take as long as you need.” He stood up and stretched, watched King barrel down the hallway to his private office. “You two feel like a few games of pool?”

  “Me too?” Aidan said, pouring a shot of whisky. “It’s not time for my break yet.”

  “Have Luke come out here,” Jax said. “Some of the ladies were asking after him, anyway.”

  “They’d better watch out,” Mac said. “His girlfriend could kill them with her baby toe.”

  Jax laughed. “Yeah. Selena’s awesome.”

  “She sure is,” Aidan said. “OK, I’ll get Luke out here and then we’ll play, though I fully expect to lose to you, man.”

  “Damn shark,” Mac muttered. “I’ve only ever seen one person kick your ass at pool, Hamill, and you’re lucky to be marrying her.”

  “Oh, I know it,” Jax said. “That woman will keep me in line for the rest of my days… and don’t tell her this, but secretly? I kinda like it.”

  “Ain’t no secret, man,” Aidan said, deliberately accentuating his Texan drawl. “You were a goner the second Red showed up here, and turned your whole world upside down.”

  “Yeah.” Jax grinned, loving that it was all true. “Yeah, I was.”

  Chapter Four

  Curtis stood against the wall, arms crossed, scowling. He was watching Tessa serve up another round of drinks, of course, and she was deliberately ignoring him. Of course.

  She headed over to the bar now, gave Luke her next order. Seizing the opportunity, Curtis walked over there, leaned on the bar next to her.

  “Hey, man,” he greeted Luke Rhodes. “How’s it going tonight?”

  Luke glanced over at him as he poured a few shots of J.D. while holding them in place with his elbow. No matter how many times Curtis saw the man working the bar or grill with one hand, it never stopped amazing him. Luke just didn’t let missing a hand slow him down, and most of the time, Curtis suspected that Luke simply didn’t think about its loss.

  “I just got out here, but all looks fine to me.” Luke shrugged and grinned. “Mellow, even.”

  That had been Curtis’ observation too. It was unusual for Curves to be so calm, but since he was well aware of just how far things could go in the opposite direction, he’d take it. He looked at Tessa now.

  “How are things on the floor?” he asked her, his husky voice pitched low. “Any trouble, sweetheart?”

  She took the shots from Luke, set them on her tray.

  “Tessa?” Curtis tried again. “Anything you worrying about?”

  She shot him a look roughly the temperature of liquid nitrogen, narrowed her eyes. “Stop talking to me.”

  “Hey,” Curtis said, getting angry now. “I get that you’re pissed at me, alright? But the fact is I still have a job to do here, and it includes keeping you safe. So you need to drop the attitude and talk to me, Tessa. Stop being a brat, and let me know what’s happening at the tables.”

  Tessa glared. “No.”

  “No?” Curtis repeated coldly. “No, what?”

  “No, there’s no trouble. No, I’m not worrying about anything.” She turned. “Now stop talking to me.”

  The men watched her walk away, Luke surprised, Curtis wavering between rage and worry. Luke blinked at Curtis.

  “What the hell, man?” Luke said. “What’d you do to Tessa?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit.” Luke shook his head. “Did you jerk her around somehow? Sleep with her and then not call?”

  “What?” Curtis exploded. “Why the hell would you go there, Rhodes?”

  “Because I ain’t stupid, Manning, and when a woman’s that pissed at a guy, it’s usually about sex and being treated badly after. Plus, she’s the sweetest woman alive, and no way she’d talk to you like that for no goddamn reason.”

  “I didn’t sleep with Tessa.” Unfortunately.

  “So if that’s not it, then what’d you do?”

  Curtis was about to stride off in a huff, then he thought about it again. Luke was as rough and tough as hell, he knew that, but he was also well-liked by the staff. Maybe he could get through to Tessa?

  “Can I talk to you?” Curtis said abruptly.

  Luke was so astonished, he almost dropped the beer mug he was holding. Curtis never wanted to talk about anything, except maybe football, and occasionally food.

  “Uh, yeah,” Luke said cautiously. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Tessa.”

  “OK.” Luke leaned back. “Go.”

  “The thing is, man, she’s…” Curtis stopped. What was Tessa? “She’s sick.”

  “What?” Luke went straight to full-on red alert. “Sick how?”

  Curtis sighed heavily. “That ain’t easy to explain.”

  “Well, give it a shot, ‘cause you can’t drop that kind of conversational bomb on me, and then go all coy.”

  “No, I know. It’s just – she’s hurting herself.”

  Luke’s eyes were steady. “How?”

  “She’s starving herself.”

  “She’s what?”

  “She’s not eating. She’s losing weight at the goddamn speed of light.”

  “But Tessa’s not some anorexic waif, Curtis.” Even as he spoke, Luke shot Tessa a doubtful glance and looked troubled. “Though she did look better before, that’s for damn sure.”

  �
�It ain’t about that, man.” Curtis ran his hands through his cropped hair. “I don’t know what to call any of this – anorexia, bulimia, excessive exercising – but it’s some seriously disordered eating for damn sure. Me and Gabi figure that she’s dropped about fifty pounds. Maybe more.”

  “You – really?”

  “Yeah. And that’s in just a few months. OK, could Tessa have lost a few pounds and still looked awesome? Sure, she could have. She could have gone on a diet, and been safe and healthy about it – but she isn’t being safe and healthy, Luke. It’s not like she decided to eat more vegetables, and get a personal trainer at the gym. She’s just not eating. She’s fucking hurting herself, and it’s bad.”

  Luke was seriously alarmed now. “You sure about this?”

  “Look for yourself, man. Forget that she’s not passing out all over the damn place. Forget that she’s smiling and going through the motions. But just look at her, OK? Think back to how she was just five months ago, yeah? Think about how she acted, how funny and genuinely sweet she was, how much energy she had – and then look at her now.”

  A bit taken aback at how urgent and garrulous the normally-almost-silent Curtis was being, Luke did. He gave Tessa a long, hard look, really focused on her. And the more he looked, the more worried he became.

  OK, yeah, she was smiling and chatting automatically, all robotically charming and cute. But she was – flatter somehow. Flatter and more deflated and thinner, and Luke didn’t just mean her body. No, now that he was actually looking – really looking – he saw how stretched her spirit was. How close to snapping it was.

  All he when he looked at her now was the forced gaiety, the fake joy, the almost-desperate determination to be fine. But Tessa was, in fact, barely holding on, and Luke couldn’t believe he was only seeing past the pretty, glittery mask now.

  Her eyes were hollowed out, surrounded by dark circles that she’d made a real effort to cover up with makeup, but which he saw as clear as day. Her cheekbones were too angular, her wrists too bony, her posture too slumped. Tessa looked like she was wasting away as she stood there, and Luke felt horror start to move over him.

 

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