He shucked the report to the side of his desk and reclined back in his chair, one foot on the edge of his desk and his hands behind his head. Two o’clock was too early for Scotch, even by his standards. Maybe he should look into a separate office space for Viv, or renovate one of the unused suites at Haven into an office for her. Then again, if he did that, he’d miss those short-skirt views from the passenger seat as they rode in together each day.
Hell no, he wasn’t separating them. Maybe the better answer was to put her desk in here with his. Or, better yet, just have her work sitting on his lap.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his head.
A knock sounded on his door and Viv peeked around the corner. “You busy?”
Not the kind of busy he needed to be, as in buried balls deep the way he’d been this morning. “Just working through some reports.”
She stepped farther into the room, her jacket on and her briefcase and purse hanging off each shoulder. “You mind if I borrow your truck again? I need to run by the museum and double-check a few of the layouts for the luncheon this Saturday.”
The luncheon. Man, she’d been so damned happy the last few days, totally pumped on the idea she’d landed a gig on her own and was doing something to help the charity he worked with. The perpetual grin on her face was enough to make a man want to trail around after her like a lost puppy.
He stood, opened the top desk drawer, and snatched the keys Ivan had delivered earlier that morning. “Can you drive a stick?”
Viv leaned her hip against the doorframe and pursed her lips. “Not since high school. After mom bailed, the bar didn’t have anyone else to call when dad was too drunk to see straight, so I got a crash course with his beat-up GTO.”
“Well then, this one should be a piece of cake.” He dangled the keys in front of her. “You crawling in my cab shows way too much leg when I’m not there to fight off the gnats.”
She twisted the key fob so the gold, black, and red shield with the horse in the middle faced her. “You trust me with the Porsche?”
“Trust you with a hell of a lot more than a car, sugar.” He coiled an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “Figured I’d keep it here so you have something to drive when we’re working. You get in a bind, give me a call and I’ll come get you.”
“You sure? I was going to stop by my place and pick up a few things.”
“Yeah, about that.” For two days she’d tiptoed around their living arrangements instead of outright saying what was on her mind, and he was done with it. He tightened his hold and braced for impact. “No need for you to pack anything else. I’m sending a crew to pack up your clothes. If there’s something else you want brought to Haven, make a list and they’ll pack it up, too.”
“Um, don’t you want to talk about that first?”
“Been waiting for you to cross that bridge, but you didn’t, so I just did. You want security while we figure out how this dance works, then you keep the townhouse. Rent it out if you want, and pocket the cash.”
“I can’t do that, I’ve got a mortgage.”
“Not anymore you don’t.”
“What?”
“Your mortgage doesn’t exist anymore. It’s paid in full as of yesterday afternoon.”
“Jace!” She straightened as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow and got up in his face. “You can’t just pay the note on someone’s home without talking about it first.”
“I can and I did.” He nuzzled the spot behind her ear that always seemed to make her moan, and lowered his voice. “Though I’ll admit Knox helped.”
She tilted her head to give him better access and groaned exactly like he’d hoped.
“We can go over this as many times as it takes until you get it,” he said against her skin, dragging slow kisses along her neck. “You chose me. I take care of what’s mine.” Pulling back, he met her eyes. “Now, no matter what happens to me, you’ve got a safe place no one can take from you. Besides, I want you with me at Haven.”
She dug the heels of her hands into his shoulders and pushed away as much as she could manage with his unyielding hold. “It’s not right, Jace. You can’t come in and pay off my debt. You already took a huge hit because of Callie. How am I ever supposed to feel like I’m giving equal?”
“I see we also need to sit down and take a good hard look at my books. I cast my finances wide and deep. The bars aren’t all I’ve got my fingers in, and neither your townhouse or Callie’s fuckup will make even a blip in my bottom line. They’re both done, so you may as well suck it up and start figuring out what to move and where it’s going.”
“Without a discussion.”
“Yep. And this equal shit? Family doesn’t do tit for tat, and you’re way more than family. How’s that for clarity?”
She screwed her mouth up to one side, gauged his face for two or three seconds and shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know where I’ll put my clothes. Your closet’s full.”
Praise Jesus, score one for the home team. One thing about Viv, she knew when to battle and when to roll over. She also had enough spunk she’d probably circle around for another skirmish before she accepted their new reality, but he’d be ready. “I’ll give you the whole damned thing if you’ll get more Levi’s and lose some of the suits.”
“I can’t meet clients in jeans.”
“Then keep the skirts.” He skimmed his hand over her ass and down her thigh enough to slip beneath the one she had on and started inching it up. “I’ll admit, they’ve got their perks.”
She wrestled free and wiggled the skirt back down, a playful scowl on her face the whole time. “You’re going to sex me to death.”
“You got a better way to go?”
Her lips twitched as she hefted her briefcase back up on her shoulder. “We’re not finished talking about the mortgage.”
“Talk all you want, sugar, but it’s done.” He palmed her ass and smacked it. “Now go before I break the seal on office sex.”
With a happy squeal, she hustled down the hallway and waved just before she headed down the stairs.
Hell, yeah, this was the life. Viv happy and bright, gaining her confidence, and shining all that goodness on him. He’d get those words from her. One way or another, he’d earn them and he’d never let her regret it.
Situated back behind his desk, he dove into his reports, determined to knock out his backlog so the night was free and clear for Viv.
An hour in, Shelly poked her head around Jace’s door. “Hey, the lady from the charity is out front to see you. Evelyn Frank?”
His new proxy. Honest to God, if Evelyn hadn’t offered the job to Viv when she did, he’d have yanked his funds from the organization and sent the scholarship winners to school himself. For all he knew, that’s why she’d made the call to Viv. In the four years he’d worked with Creative Souls, Evelyn had gotten to know him pretty damned well. Enough to know he wouldn’t keep shelling out nearly three hundred grand a year if the board started jacking with the mission statement. “You sure she’s here for me? Viv’s picked up a deal for them, too.”
“Nope, she asked for you.”
He sighed and locked up his computer. “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”
Shelly ducked back down the hallway, and Jace followed more slowly behind her. It wasn’t Evelyn’s fault Renner’s newest lackey was a dick. And whether she’d hired Viv as a mercenary maneuver or not, the connections would help grow Viv’s business without his input, something he understood her needing better than most. He’d be an idiot to screw things up for Viv by rattling cages now.
Jace wandered through the main section of the club, the lingering scent of cleaning materials overpowering the remnants of last night’s so-so Tuesday night. The dance floor and surrounding booths sat quiet and almost completely shadowed, but if he bothered to check, he’d find
every corner as shiny and new as the day he opened for business. He paid a mint for the crew that maintained Crossroads, but one of the things that kept his customers coming back was the place never got old. Not literally or figuratively.
Evelyn stood outlined in the doorway, the lobby lights behind her streaming enough to show her neck craned for a better look at the mysteries that lay beyond.
“Don’t get too tied up on the dance floor,” Jace said, still shrouded in the shadows. “It’s pretty run-of-the-mill as far as bars go.”
Evelyn spun and pressed a shaky hand to her sternum, a guilty smile flickering into place. “Jace. You startled me.” She fiddled with the draped neckline of her designer red dress, accidentally nudging the long gold chain around her neck with her perfectly manicured nails. “I’ve never been here before, but have heard so much I couldn’t resist taking a peek.”
“I’ll give you the whole tour if you want. The better sections run along either side, contemporary for the Millennial crowd, retro for the Gen Xers, and a pub for the folks who don’t identify with a label.”
Her face brightened as though she couldn’t wait to accept, then flashed to a flustered, almost regretful grimace. “I’d love to, but I need to get back to the office as quickly as I can. Things are a bit hectic with the luncheon only a few days away.”
So, she was on a mission for Davidson. It had to suck being the top dog’s pawn. “All right, then. Let’s have it.”
“Yes, well...” She studied the tops of her conservative shoes, coughed and straightened up, meeting his gaze head-on. “The board wanted me to check in on something. Or, I guess I should say, see if there was any validity to some rumors they’d heard.”
Guess he called that one. “And the rumor is?”
“I’m not sure you’re aware, but I contacted your date from the gala and hired her to handle the final details for our scholarship luncheon this Saturday. Our planner had some personal issues that took her away at the last minute and we needed someone to handle the details.”
He started to answer, but his gut checked the action, and he clamped his lips shut.
Evelyn’s cheeks turned a delicate pink, and she fiddled with the latch of her designer purse, a nervous tell he was pretty sure she wasn’t even aware of. “Some of the board members are wondering how deeply the two of you are involved. More to the point, they’re wondering if I made an error in bringing her in to handle the event. Given the...err...mishap you had with the police the other day and all the problems with your clubs, they’re not sure she’s the right person for the job.”
Son of a bitch. Guess that answered whether Evelyn had hired Viv as a slick tactic to keep Jace’s money. Good news for Viv that she’d nailed it herself, but shit news in the realm of claiming her publicly.
“I told them not to jump to conclusions,” Evelyn added quickly. “That I’d check it out myself and report back.”
“Good of you to do that.” How he uttered the blasé statement with the acid unloading in his belly was a damned miracle. Even pretending Viv wasn’t his made him want to cut something. Didn’t matter if it was only the three days until the event was over or three hours. Sure, Viv would understand if he told the truth, but losing this gig would suck all the happiness she’d been throwing around the last two days right out of her. No way was he doing that to her. Not now.
He shook his head and powered on all the finesse he could manage. “Nothing between me and Viv besides the work she’s doing for the club. I needed a date, and she needed contacts. Sounds like it worked out for everyone.”
Evelyn studied him a second or two. She might run in more refined circles than Jace cared for, but she was still a smart damned woman, one who knew chemistry when she saw it. Her eyes narrowed tighter for just a moment and she nodded. “I assumed that was the case. I’ll be sure to share that information with Mr. Davidson and let Viv finish what she’s set out to do.”
“Appreciate it.”
She turned and started toward the main entrance, but stopped a few steps in. “For what it’s worth, this will be my last year with the board.”
Jace pulled a much needed toothpick from his pocket and tucked it between his lips. “Odds are good it’s my last, too.” He just hoped his reputation didn’t jack the whole deal up for Viv.
* * *
Vivienne nudged the kitchen door shut with her hip and padded barefoot under the porte cochere to the four-car garage on the other side. It was one of two garages at Haven, the other with eight slots to match the overload of testosterone housed under the mansion’s roof.
On the other side of the closed garage door, a heavy metal object clattered against the concrete.
Jace’s voice wasn’t loud, but it sure wasn’t muted. “Cock sucking, no good son of a bitch.”
Viv barely got the door opened without spilling either the crystal tumbler filled to the brim with Scotch for Jace or her red wine. No small feat considering how hard she giggled through the whole fiasco. “Whatever you’re doing under there, it doesn’t sound like it’s going well.”
Jace rolled out from beneath a classic, but beat-up-looking black Camaro. His faded jeans were ripped in a few places, and his black T-shirt should’ve been tossed a few years ago, but the way it stretched across his chest made her palms itch for contact.
He grunted as he stood. “You’re late getting home.” It came out as more of an accusation than a statement, his eyes hooded and all the more sinister with only the spotlight under the car brightening the garage. He snatched a rag off the hood and wiped his hands, prowling her direction.
Man, Ninette hadn’t been joking. His mood was so thick it was hard to breathe, let alone meet his hard stare. “I had to juggle details for the speaker on Saturday.” She handed him his Scotch. “Your mom said you’ve been a bear all afternoon and to come bearing gifts.”
He set the drink on the workbench beside her with a careless thunk, never taking his eyes off her, and repeated the process with her wine. Coiling his hand around the back of her neck, he pulled her in close and backed her toward the wall. He grumbled against her lips. “Need this more.”
His mouth slanted across hers with a vengeance, not angry so much as tense. Or was it needy? In the time she’d known him, he’d given her soft, sexy and downright dirty, but this was desperate. Deliciously dangerous and heady.
She relaxed into him, every muscle uncoiling and instinctively surrendering to his strength, letting him take control and crushing the details and worries of work to nothingness.
Her shoulders met the garage wall, Jace a solid mass of unyielding muscle against her front. He plundered her mouth, taking as much as he demanded. Coaxing her with carnal sweeps of his tongue she felt to the very tips of her toes. This wasn’t about sex, or any prelude to it. This was about connection. A consuming, carnal fire that branded her from the inside out. As if he needed to claim her as much as he needed air.
He pulled away and stared down at her, his breath coming short and fast.
Viv palmed the back of his neck and tried to catch her own breath, her body demanding more even as her mind insisted words were more important. “You okay?”
Dragging his thumb across her well-kissed lower lip, he let out a slow exhale and rested his forehead against hers. “Gettin’ there.” He traced her jawline in idle strokes for long, quiet seconds and then eased back. “You got troubles with the thing Saturday?”
A long, tired sigh slipped out before she could catch it. “Not troubles so much as difficult people. The reps for our speaker felt it necessary to review every aspect of the luncheon and had a long list of requisite accommodations.”
“Since when does Dean Haddock have a list of accommodations?”
Viv shook her head then rested it against the wall behind her. “Not Dean Haddock. Not anymore. It seems SMU had a conflict and had to yank the dean for a different engagement. Paul
Renner’s taking his place and his campaign team is making the most of it. You’d think he’d have to actually win the House election before his folks got to throw demands around.”
Jace went rigid, the hand that had been absently massaging her uninjured shoulder clamping down in a firm grip. “Paul there today?”
“No.” Her heart kathumped three speeds faster than normal, and the image of a rabbit bumbling into a panther’s line of sight came to mind. “Is there a problem?”
He pressed against her, any distance he’d allowed between their bodies when he’d ended the kiss eradicated. His warm breath ghosted against her face, and he wrapped his arms around her, fisting his hand in her hair. “I don’t trust him. Especially with you.”
Surely he wasn’t thinking of what she’d said after the gala. She’d explained that. Not once, but twice. “Do you trust me?”
Jace’s gaze roamed her face, taking everything in. “I trust you with everything, sugar, but Paul’s got a grudge where I’m concerned. He’s done some crazy shit to try and even the score for things that went down in college. I can’t help but wonder if he’d be willing to take his anger out on someone I care about.”
“What kind of grudge?”
Jace studied her, his lips pressed tight and eyes sparking with anger. “I met him in law school. Most of the kids there were well off, even the ones on scholarships. A few of us were from rougher backgrounds and working to make things better for ourselves. Paul built connections with a handful of folks like me and ran a scam. Tried to fleece them out of their scholarship cash. I saw it coming, turned the tables, and left him red-faced and short on cash.”
“Well, that’s not so bad.”
“No.” Jace grinned, ducked his head, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably wouldn’t have been a big deal if the college bigwigs hadn’t gotten wind of it. They don’t take too kindly to people who monkey with their income streams and scholarships fill their coffers more than you think. The ordeal ended up costing Paul’s family a load of cash and trouble to placate the dean, and Paul still got the boot.”
Rough & Tumble (The Haven Brotherhood) Page 28
