“Sitzen,” Jace said before Ruger could so much as get in a decent lick.
The dog obeyed, but aimed a wounded look at Jace and whimpered for good measure.
“Poor thing.” Vivienne held out her hand and let him nuzzle and lick her palm. “I wondered where you’d run off to,” she said to Jace.
“Wouldn’t be right to leave him there much longer without a break. He needs to be with you, anyway.”
Totally sweet. Most guys she’d gone out with only registered Ruger so far as the threat he posed. Jace actually cared enough to think about him without having to be asked. “Yeah, but I need to go home.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I know you’re safe and you’re in better shape.”
She sighed and let her head drop back against the towel. “You can’t keep me here.”
“You hear what I told you last night?”
“Which part? Where you said the life I’ve been living was a complete lie? Or where you confessed to breaking into my house and violating my privacy?”
He edged Ruger away enough to sit on the edge of the tub. “I never said your life was a lie. I just said you were covering up the best parts of you. The rest was me coming clean on the shit I’d done so we don’t have walls between us. Now, back to the topic. You’re staying here because I know you’re safe here.”
“You’re overreacting. That shot was probably nothing more than a drunk in the parking lot grandstanding for a woman with the safety off. You said yourself things have been bad there lately.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
Yeah, that was the other common sense shaker in the whole scenario. Jace might not have gone into detail the night before, but he’d made it clear he dealt with some nasty people in his world. Drug dealers like Hugo Moreno and other people who might have a penchant for guns. It was too much to process. Logic tugged and prodded on one side of her, and emotion stomped and pouted on the other. At this rate, she’d need a solid week of peace and quiet to figure things out.
She sat up and gripped the side to push herself upright.
Before she could so much as get her legs underneath her, Jace was there, carefully lifting her up and out of the tub without the least consideration for his clothes. He eased her to her feet on the big cream rug. He’d barely unwound his arm from her waist when he wrapped a bath sheet around her shoulders.
“You don’t have to do all this,” she said.
“Not doing it because I have to.” He gently smoothed the soft, thick towel up and down her arms and hips. “I’m doing it because I want to.”
She stilled him with a hand on his forearm. “Jace—”
“I’ve never brought a woman to Haven.” He tightened the towel around her and stepped in close. “I’m the first of my brothers to do it. I get you don’t understand what that means yet, but it means a hell of a lot to me. Is it such a hardship to let your man take care of you for a day or two and leave behind your nice and tidy world while you heal?”
A quiver jangled through her, more from his words than her damp skin. She’d never thought herself territorial before, but the idea no other woman had been with him in this special place ticked the balance in her logic versus emotions debate. Not that she’d share that with him just yet. The uncensored Jace Kennedy she’d witnessed in the last twelve hours seemed cable of stretching inches into megamiles. “I’d planned to work tonight.”
“Got a big office you can use.”
“You’ll tell me what you learn about the shooting?”
He studied her, mouth pursed as though gauging his words. “Unless it might put you in a spot, yeah. I’ll share.”
The knotted chaos in her gut surged forward and lodged in the base of her throat, confusion, fear and longing stinging her eyes with the promise of fresh tears. She looked away and tried to grab the towel so she could get dressed.
Jace pulled her back against him, stroking her spine with one hand and cupping the side of her face with the other so she couldn’t avoid his gaze. “You said I made you feel. Said I made you want to throw safe out the window. But here’s the deal, sugar. You need an updated definition of what safe means. If it meant Emily Post and High Tea at four, then the road you were on might be the right one. But from my view, safe means knowing someone’s got your back. That they think ahead and anticipate what you need before you even realize you need it. It means knowing someone else will put you first even when it might hurt the giver. Under that definition, you stick with me, you’ll never be safer.”
Such beautiful words. Rich with so much depth and passion she couldn’t process it all at once. “Jace.” His whispered name slipped from her mouth as tears trailed down her cheeks, the chasm of doubt and worry she’d created between them near to overflowing with hope. So many years she’d wanted to have someone say sweet things to her, to care about what she wanted and see to her needs instead of the other way around. But to have that alongside such intellect and conviction? Never in her wildest fantasies had she ever thought she’d be this blessed.
She raised herself up on her tiptoes, clenched his T-shirt the best she could with her arms trapped between them, and pulled him closer.
He skimmed his lips across hers, coaxing them apart with a tempting back and forth that sent her thoughts and concerns skittering in all directions. His tongue swept inside, his taste as bold and confident as everything else about him, taking what he wanted while still focused on her pleasure.
She moaned into his mouth and tried to wrestle her good arm free to pull him tighter.
“Ahem.” The awkward intrusion came coupled with two sharp raps on the bathroom door.
Viv jerked her head away in time to glimpse Zeke grinning from the doorway just before Jace shifted and blocked Vivienne from view.
“I see our patient’s feeling better.” Even without the visual, Zeke’s voice rang with wry amusement.
Viv ducked her chin and rested her forehead on Jace’s chest, her cheeks on fire from the intimate exposure and his lingering kiss.
Jace caressed the back of her neck. “You better have a damned good reason why you’re still standing in that doorway.”
“Well, you kind of changed the rules on us, big guy. Never had to second-guess coming into a brother’s room before, now did I?” If Zeke was even the least bit put off by Jace’s brusque response, his taunting retort hid it well. “The guys are ready for rally and the girls have dinner on the table.”
Jace jerked a nod at Zeke over his shoulder and sucked in a deep breath. Waiting until the bathroom door clicked shut, he stepped away and urged her into the bedroom. “Come on. I picked up some clothes from your house.”
She made it two steps before Zeke’s comment registered and stopped in her tracks. “I thought you didn’t bring other women here.”
He backtracked and tugged her forward with a much firmer grip, but his lips twitched as though he fought back a grin. “Rein that fire in, sugar. You wanna find out who the girls are, you’re going to need to get changed and get your curvy butt down to chow like everyone else.” He pulled a fresh pair of jeans and a pale pink cotton tank out of a duffel, and tossed them on the bed.
She snatched the duffel instead, hoping he’d packed a decent set of underwear, but flinched at the exaggerated movement.
“Easy. Your temper’s only going to get the pain fired up again.” He pulled a simple pair of gray cotton hipster panties with two tiny hot-pink bows from the bag, but stuffed the matching bra back inside. The fact that he’d picked the exact set she’d hoped to find only fanned her aggravation.
She fisted the towel around her chest and shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m never this short-tempered. I just—”
“Got shot? Been up and down on painkillers and are cooped up in a place you don’t know?” He pried her hands away from the towel so it dropped to the flo
or and guided her until she sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m thinking you’ve earned a tantrum or two.”
“What are you doing?”
He crouched and held the panties up near her feet. “I’m trying to help you get dressed so you can get downstairs and put that curiosity of yours to rest.”
“Hmm.” She stepped into them and marveled at the sight of him bent to his task, the big, unstoppable Jace Kennedy at her feet, humbly helping her dress. If it wasn’t so heart-stoppingly sweet, she’d have overdosed on the power rush. “Well, you can’t blame me for asking. You’re usually trying to get me out of them.”
The devil grinned up at her, shimmied the soft cotton up and over her hips, and cupped her ass, pulling her against him. “Keep talkin’ that sass, sugar, and I’ll take my dinner between your thighs.” He smacked her butt and grabbed the tank top, maneuvering her into it and the rest of her clothes without another word.
“Zeke seemed angry I was here.”
He paused in fastening the last button on her jeans then shook his head and finished. “Not with you, with me.”
“Why?”
“Because we agreed Haven is safe ground. No one but family comes here. Ever. And I didn’t stop long enough to clue them in you fit that criteria.” He laced her fingers in his and led her into the hallway. Cream walls and dark-stained trim lined either side. A thick, crimson runner stretched over distressed wood floors, soft as cotton beneath her bare feet. “Truth of the matter is, I broke that rule, too. We don’t bring anyone into the family without a vote by the brotherhood.”
“What’s the brotherhood?”
He paused at the top of a grand staircase that had to be at least nine feet wide with wrought iron balusters and more of the bloodred carpet. He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, and graced her with a lopsided, but oh-so-tender smile. “You already know who they are. It started with me and Axel after an ugly deal went down with my mom. We made a vow we’d do whatever it took to get our moms out of the dirt. We hit the books at school, went from C’s and D’s to straight A’s, then earned scholarships to college. I got another free ride to UNLV for law school. Along the way, we found other men like us, smart and willing, but stuck in a dead end. We invested time and money in them and helped them find their feet.”
“But why so secret? What you’re doing is a great thing.”
“It might be great for us, but you gotta remember, we come from the streets. The way we do business, a whole lot of folks would frown on if they found out. So, we keep it close. Family only, especially here at Haven. It’s the one place we never have to couch our words or pretend to be someone we’re not.” He grinned. “Kinda like your special room.”
He started down the stairs, guiding her alongside him.
“When you say ‘frowned on,’” she said, “are we talking illegal?”
He slanted her a sideways look and ambled toward the rumbling, masculine voices emanating from the end of the hall. “That all depends.”
“On what?”
He paused just outside a huge arched stonework opening she’d have expected in an old English hunting lodge. A very polished and expensive hunting lodge. “There’s what the brotherhood deems right and wrong, and what the law deems right and wrong. Sometimes the two meet and sometimes they don’t, but we always go with the brotherhood’s vote.”
“That’s a dangerous game, Jace.”
“Life’s dangerous. We don’t do stupid shit, sugar. And I damn sure won’t ever tangle you up in it, but I told you I’d be honest. Now you’re getting that honesty.”
He tried to tug her past the opening, but Viv dug in her heels and yanked him back. “I don’t suppose you could give me an example of how big a gap we’re talking when the law and the brotherhood’s votes don’t mix.”
For long seconds, he stared at her, pensive. He edged in close enough his heat radiated along her bare arms and shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll give you one. The bastard who shot you? There’s legal justice and brotherhood justice, and you can pretty well count those sides will be extremely far apart.”
“Jace—”
“That’s enough for now.” He pulled her beside him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “You let those questions simmer and we’ll hit ’em harder later. Right now you need to meet the girls.”
Before she could argue, the whole crew came into view—Trevor, Zeke and Axel, plus two other men she didn’t recognize. Gathered round a granite-covered island that could easily seat ten and looked like it’d been imported straight out of a gentlemen’s club, they turned to her and ceased all conversation.
Instinct screamed to turn tail and run hell-for-leather back to the bedroom. Maybe all the way back home. Pride put her back up instead. “Um. Hi.”
“You know Trev, Zeke and Axel,” Jace said. “Beckett’s the muscle man near the fridge and Knox is our resident nerd.”
Said nerd closed his laptop and flipped Jace the bird. “You’re just pissed you didn’t know me before you actually had to work your way through college.” Knox stood and ambled toward her with his hand outstretched. If he was really as much of a geek as Jace indicated, he sure blew textbook descriptions out the window. His hair was only down to his chin, but it was dirty blond and tousled in a sexy GQ kind of way. One look at his gray eyes and anyone would know he’d give Einstein a run for his money. “I’m Knox Torren.”
Viv shook his hand and tried not to pay too much attention to the other four stares aimed her direction. “Vivienne Moore.” She glanced at Jace beside her. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
“And then some,” he said.
Jace smacked his brother on the shoulder. “Don’t freak her out, asshole.” He pulled Vivienne toward the huge guy with the crazy-big muscles and the closely cropped, dark brown hair. Ushering her in front of him, he motioned to the last of the brothers. “Beck, this is Viv.”
Beckett dipped his head, slow and cautious, but didn’t say a word. His loose tank and workout shorts put his impressive muscles on full display. The damp edges around his hairline and the sharp veins prominent at his forearms and shoulders made it clear the exercise gear wasn’t just for show.
A Southern-sweet, but deadly firm feminine voice cracked across the room. “Beckett Tate, when a woman’s introduced to you, you answer proper.”
Viv spun toward the voice along with everyone else.
Two older women meandered in via a different entrance, one with long hair in an auburn hue that couldn’t be natural, and the other with platinum hair almost as riotous as Viv’s and well below her shoulders.
The redhead smirked and aimed for the kitchen.
The other aimed a well-honed mother-glare at Beckett. Her face was a classic oval shape that matched Jace’s, but her coloring was the exact opposite, creamy skin, blue eyes and bright to Jace’s dark.
“Yes, ma’am.” Beckett shifted into Viv’s line of sight and held out his hand. “I shouldn’t have been so rude. Heard a lot about you from Jace. Nice to put a face to the name.”
Viv shook the hand offered and plastered on the best smile she could with the woman’s stare weighting her shoulders. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Much better,” the woman said. “Now, Jace, introduce us to your girl so we can eat.”
A boyish grin she’d never seen Jace wear before crept into place as he led Vivienne forward. He motioned to the redhead washing her hands at the kitchen sink. “Viv, that’s Sylvie McKee, Axel’s mom.”
Well, she should have put those two together on her own. One solid gander at the twinkle in Sylvie’s eyes and you couldn’t help but catch the resemblance. Sylvie wiggled her fingers in a playful greeting and grinned the same ornery smile as Axel.
Viv had barely nodded her head in answer before Jace stopped her right in front of the blonde. “And this is my mother, Ninette.”
&nbs
p; Chapter 21
Jace rested his arm along the back of Viv’s chair and reclined in his own, tipping his beer up for another swig. Just under ten years he’d owned this property and not once had the dinner conversation been this uncomfortable. He toyed with a strand of Vivienne’s hair, her posture about as unrelenting as the awkward tension in the room. They’d exhausted talk of weather and sports about halfway through the meal, and now his brothers seemed content to feed their faces while his mom and Sylvie made small talk with Viv.
“Man, I’m stuffed.” Beck shoved his plate away and dropped against the back of his chair hard enough the legs scratched against the tile floors. “Sylvie, for a Scottish chick, you do good Texas.”
“Bah, fried chicken’s nothin’ ta fish ‘n’ chips.” Sylvie slid a nearly empty bowl of mashed potatoes Vivienne’s direction. “Do ye want more potatoes, lass? Ye’ve hardly enough ta keep yer legs in a stiff wind.”
Giving up on shoving her corn around on her plate, Viv set her fork down and wiped her mouth. “I think it’s the medicine. I’m not very hungry.”
“We’ll knock it back a touch if the pain’s tolerable,” Zeke said. “You can take the stronger dose at night.”
Viv smiled and nodded, but it lacked her normal conviction. If Jace could pry her head open, he’d probably find she had ten different escape plans charted by now.
Probably best he put them all out of their misery and got on with the pissed off elephant in the room. “Everyone done?”
Nods and varied grunts of agreement circled the table.
“Then let’s rally.” He stood and carried his and Viv’s plate to the kitchen, the clicks and clanks of flatware and scooting chairs behind him saying his brothers weren’t far behind.
One by one, they dutifully rinsed and loaded up the dishwasher while his mom oversaw the last odds and ends being carried to the kitchen.
Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood) Page 19
