by Tawny Weber
“I’m not checking out my father’s old lady.”
In the first place, the idea was gross. In the second, it would up the chances that he’d actually have to speak with his father. In the week he’d been in town, he’d managed to duck the guy’s calls and avoid actually being in the same breathing space. He was calling it deep undercover. So deep, he wasn’t even coming into contact with the suspect.
“She’s the stepdaughter of a known South American dealer. She’s reputed to be estranged from her family, but the connection can’t be ignored.”
“Lilah Gomez?”
God, this was like some twisted soap opera. Striding over to the window, Caleb shoved his hand through his hair. This day had started out so nice. Incredible sex, a woman who filled his head with crazy thoughts of tomorrow and, dammit, relaxing in his stocking feet.
“You know her?”
He wasn’t about to admit that after that first day when he hadn’t recognized her, she’d gone on to hit on him three more times since he’d come to town. He grimaced. Especially since that he didn’t know if her thing with his father was new or not.
“She and my sister were tight growing up. They hung out, had sleepovers, that kind of thing. Then Lilah went over to the wild side, and she and Maya went their separate ways.”
Caleb waited, but Hunter didn’t say anything about Lilah’s current sleepover choices. And that, friends, was why he was still Caleb’s best buddy.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Hunter said instead.
Staring out the window at the frosty cold coating the bare tree branches, Caleb grunted.
“I’d hoped you’d find someone else. Another suspect or connection.”
“Even if my old man’s acting like a hound dog, there’s still nothing to tie him to this,” Caleb argued.
“There’s nothing to point the finger in any other direction,” Hunter rebutted. “Is there?”
Caleb sighed. “The case is moving slow. I’ve been connecting my way up the food chain. I’m cozying up to one of the midlevel dealers. He knows names, clearly has the inside track. But he’s not sharing. Yet.”
“Any hint about who’s on top?”
Caleb grimaced. “These guys are cocky, sure they are untouchable. So it’s someone with pull. Someone who can influence the law.”
He waited, but again, Hunter didn’t take the obvious opening. Gotta love the guy.
“I saw one of the couriers last night from a distance. He’s familiar. As soon as I figure out where I’ve seen him before, I’ll have the break we need.”
“You’ve seen him on another case?”
Caleb thought back to the brown shaggy hair, all he’d been able to identify from two blocks away. “No, he’s local. I’ll do the rounds again, figure it out.”
“Good job,” Hunter said. “In the meantime, I have a remote, wildly impossible thread that if tugged could disintegrate instantly.”
“Sounds promising.”
He could handle delicate. Hell, if it meant keeping his old man out of jail, he could handle delicate while juggling porcelain and wearing roller skates.
“Intel shows that a new citizen to Black Oak has some connections. A relationship with a pharmacist busted for a prescription scam. She was implicated but skated.”
“So why are you grudging after my old man? Why aren’t you pounding on her door instead?”
“In the first place, it’s not a grudge. Your old man has a record longer than I am tall.”
“A record of suspicions. No convictions.”
“Minor detail.”
“Major legality.”
“Whatever,” Hunter dismissed. “And in the second place, while there is enough here to warrant a first glance, it’s pretty much a waste of a second look. Other than this one relationship, the woman has a spotless rep. No record, no connections, no history to support drug suspicions.”
“Once is all it takes.” Especially if that once was the hook he needed to prove his old man’s innocence. Just because he had issues with his upbringing, a lack of respect for his father’s choices and a whole lot of pent-up anger toward the past, that didn’t mean he wanted the old man in jail.
“Look, give me the name and I’ll look into it,” he told Hunter.
Even though the sigh was silent, Caleb knew his friend heaved one. Patience with avoidance had never been the guy’s strong suit.
“Fine. Check on a Pandora Easton. I’ll email you the deets of her record.”
Sucker punched, stars swirled in front of his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. Caleb had been in bed with a pole dancer once, both of them buck naked and sweaty, when she’d pulled a gun on him. To this day, he had no idea where it’d come from.
That’s about how he felt at this moment.
“Pandora…”
“Easton,” Hunter confirmed. “Twenty-seven, resident of Black Oak and employed at a store there. Her mother, Cassiopeia Easton, has a file. I’ll send that, too.”
A part of Caleb’s brain heard and filed away the details of Hunter’s words. The rest of it was in shock.
Pandora? The sweetest woman he’d ever met? The one who’d shown him heaven by the lights of her Christmas tree, blown his control all to hell while giving him the best orgasm of his life? With his damn boots on?
Suddenly, busting his father for running a drug ring held a sort of appeal.
He’d spent hours in that store. Days watching it. He hadn’t suspected her for one second. Now this? Unless he’d seriously lost his edge, this was all bullshit. Or was it?
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, cutting off whatever Hunter was saying. He flicked the cell phone closed, shoved it in his pocket and grabbed his jacket. It wasn’t until he had the door to his hotel room open he remembered that he didn’t have any damn boots on.
There was irony in there somewhere.
Five minutes later, he was on his way. To do what, he wasn’t sure. Something with Pandora. He wasn’t sure if that something was along the lines of the naked, intense pleasure that he’d been contemplating an hour ago, or if it was because he didn’t like being lied to. Zipping his jacket, the leather minimal defense against the cold, Caleb stepped out of the hotel lobby and onto the wide porch steps and almost ran into the body coming up the stairs.
“Excuse me,” he muttered, sidestepping and patting his pockets for his bike keys.
“I was coming in to look for you.”
Could this damn day get any worse?
Caleb glanced at the keys in his hand, briefly wishing they were his gun. He shoved the keys back in his pocket, eyeing the railing and the drop. Whether it was to jump or to toss someone over, he wasn’t sure.
“Dad,” he returned, his tone resigned. He kept one eye on the railing, though. Just in case.
He’d been unprepared that first day when he’d seen his father. Since then, he’d spent every minute prepared for this second encounter. Now, he could study the old man with objective eyes. Or at least without the resentment and irritation he’d been sporting.
Tobias Black stood straight and tall, like his sons. His black hair was showing a little gray in the sideburns, but was still as thick and unruly as ever. As a kid, Caleb had seen his father in everything from a three-piece suit with an ascot, to a repairman’s coveralls, to surgical scrubs. A chameleon, Tobias had obviously taken to this new role as custom-bike shop owner like a fish to water. Biker boots, similar to Caleb’s own, jeans and a leather jacket made up his work uniform.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come by the house. Or the shop. Either one,” Tobias said, shifting to the left and blocking the stairs leading to escape. Caleb smirked, knowing he could take the railing at any time he wanted.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing?”
Leaning against one of the porch columns, his arms crossed over his chest, Caleb’s smirk widened.
“Tell me, son, why’d you come home? Clearly not to see family, so what’s up?”
“I
stopped by to see Aunt Cynthia yesterday.”
“How is that old bat?”
“She had a lot of great things to say about you.”
Tobias’s smirk was an exact replica of his son’s.
“I’ll just bet she did. The woman is still trying to run me out of town. You’d think she’d give up after all this time, but no. That’s why she ran for mayor, you know. To make my life hell.”
If anyone else had said that, Caleb would have rolled his eyes and called them on their whiny persecution complex. But in this case, he knew Tobias was right. Cynthia Parker had made it her mission to make her late sister’s husband’s life hell whenever possible. His kids, she tolerated. But Tobias? Not even a little bit.
“I gotta say, even for a harpy, I had higher expectations of her, though,” Tobias continued. “She’s too busy glad-handing rich donors and getting her picture taken to take care of business, I guess.”
Caleb knew the game. If he asked what business, he’d be agreeing to play. Con 101, get the mark to agree. To anything, even if it was only to agree to talk about the weather. And for a master like Tobias, all he needed was that agreement, and he’d win. Always.
So Caleb waited.
Tobias clearly knew what his oldest son was doing.
“I don’t suppose you’re interested in coming by the bike shop this evening? Big holiday bash, all the vendors, customers, hell, even a few strangers. Probably a few of your old school pals. Good times, food provided by that little sweetheart at Moonspun, booze from Mick’s bar.”
Caleb saw the trap. Hell, it had a big neon sign flashing a warning at him. But he couldn’t stop himself.
“You’re tight with Pandora, are you?” he asked.
“Tight? What’re you implying? The girl’s young enough to be my daughter.”
“So’s Lilah Gomez.”
Tobias’s grin widened. Nope, this was his game and he was setting the traps, not stepping in them.
“Girl’s gonna be at the party,” he said.
“Lilah?” Caleb returned, even though he knew who his father meant.
“Pandora. I heard you had dinner with her the other night. Hope you’re not taking on more than you can handle there.”
Caleb’s stare was bland. He hadn’t discussed his sex life with his father since he was twelve and the old man had shown him the hall closet where the supply of condoms was kept. He was hardly going to start now.
“There’s a lot of interesting…stuff coming out of that store,” Tobias continued. His blue eyes were intense, the same look Caleb often saw when he looked in the mirror. “Define interesting,” Caleb invited. He knew Tobias wouldn’t-after all, why waste bait? But he wanted to see where his father was taking this.
“Come by tonight,” Tobias invited with a nod. Apparently Caleb had done something right-who the hell knew what-in the old man’s eyes. “You might learn a few things.”
With that and a jaunty salute, Tobias turned on his heel and sauntered down the stairs.
9
BY SEVEN-THIRTY IN THE evening, Pandora was closing up the store and about ready to scream.
She’d thought she was having a little fun with the most incredible sex of her life. But according to popular thought in the store today, she was actually making a social statement that was quite possibly going to cast her as a pariah in town and ruin her reputation. Having played that role recently, she knew she pretty much hated it.
And, apparently the cherry on top of public opinion was that by choosing Caleb over Sheriff Hottie, she was rejecting all that was good and right in the world for the lure of the bad.
It was enough to make a girl’s head explode right off her shoulders. But she knew from experience that obsessing didn’t help, so she forced herself to start her closing routine.
It was just as well that Caleb hadn’t come by. Or called. Or expressed any interest in a repeat performance. If one night together had the potential to ruin everything she’d built here, what would two nights do? Ruin it twice as much?
And how pathetic was she to stop and consider whether twice as ruined wasn’t worth it. Because, dammit, the sex had been incredible. Mind-boggling. So awesome that she got damp just thinking about it.
And she knew he’d been just as blown away.
“Why the hell hasn’t he called, then?” she muttered as she wheeled the dolly with its precariously balanced crate into the showroom.
She stopped just short of Paulie, who was splayed over the floor like a cat-skin rug, and wheeled the dolly to the right instead.
“I’m crazy for being upset. I should be grateful he isn’t coming around, right? This way I don’t have to worry about trying to resist him.”
This time she directed her comment to Bonnie, who was sitting on one of the display counters next to a three-foot-high cluster of amethyst, her head tilted to the side as if contemplating Pandora’s whining.
Bonnie meowed her support. But Paulie just rolled onto his side, shot one leg into the air and started licking himself. There was nothing like the male perspective.
“Sure, I guess he could take that route,” she agreed with the cat as she started wiggling the five-foot-tall statue of Eros from the box, careful not to nick his wings. “But lovin’ is never as fun by oneself.”
Pandora’s lower lip jutted out, but before she could get a real pout on, there was a tap at the door.
She and the cats all turned their heads. Her heart leaped, giddy excitement filling her tummy. Dread filtered in, too. She’d had no idea she was making a public statement last night. But now she was fully informed. Upset, confused and a little intimidated…but still fully informed.
Oh, joy.
Giving Eros’s butt a quick pat in the hopes he’d help her choose well, she unwrapped herself from the statue and hurried across the store to unlock the door.
“Caleb,” she greeted, her smile a little shaky at the corners. She wiped her hands on the heavy velvet of her skirt and gave her voile blouse a quick tug to make sure the lace was straight at the bodice.
Should she ask him in? Or ask him to leave? Her stomach churned as she tried to decide. Did she go with her instincts and intuition, which said that despite the town’s opinion, he was a good man? Or did she accept that her intuition sucked and listen to public opinion?
Thankfully, Caleb took the decision out of her hands by walking right in.
“Hey,” he greeted. He didn’t kiss her, though. Instead, he gave her a long, searching look, then, hands still shoved in his pockets instead of groping her the way they should be, he stepped into the store.
“What’s up?” she asked. She bit her lip. Had he heard the rumors about the two of them? Was he regretting it now, too? “You look a little stressed.”
“Nah. I just had a full day, that’s all.”
Full of what? He wasn’t working, was avoiding his family as if they were carriers of the seventh plague and didn’t seem like a holiday-partying kind of guy.
Maybe he’d been looking for a job. Or a place to live. Something that’d keep him in Black Oak past the first of the year? Maybe he’d spent the day in bed, recovering in exhaustion from his wild night with her.
And maybe she’d been inhaling too many oyster fumes. Pandora gave herself a quick mental forehead smack, followed by an even quicker get-a-freaking-clue-he’s-not-for-you lecture.
“I’m replenishing stock,” she told him, returning to unpacking the statue so she could resist the desperate urge to squeeze his ass. Keep it light, keep it polite. Ass grabbing was definitely off-limits. “It was a busy day. The busiest this year, actually.”
“That’s great that you’re rocking the sales,” he said. “Have you pinpointed what’s making the big difference? Besides your charming personality, of course.”
The last was said with a wicked smile and a wink.
“I’m guessing it’s either that, or the aphrodisiacs,” Pandora said with a smile, unable to maintain her distance when he gave her that look. �
�I’m not actually sure. I haven’t quite figured out how to run the bookkeeping program yet, but I think there’s some kind of income-comparison report I can run. As soon as I do, I’ll know what to focus more time on.”
His eyes narrowed, an odd look crossing his face before he stepped farther into the room. “I’m handy with computers. How about I run the report for you while you unpack?”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested, her words a little breathless. “I’m sure you have other things to do.”
“Just the party at the motorcycle shop,” he dismissed. “And I was hoping you’d go with me, so I’m just chilling until you’re through here anyway.”
Pandora pressed her lips together. Wasn’t that tantamount to publicly stating her intention to take the bad-boy path?
“The party?” she hedged. “I didn’t think you were going.”
In that second, Pandora wished like never before that her mom were here. As conflicted as she felt, she needed Cassiopeia’s clear-sighted vision and maybe a session with the tarot cards to sort through all of this.
Instead, she was stuck with herself. And her own lousy intuition. Tiny pinpricks of panic shivered up and down Pandora’s spine as she tried to decide what to do. Her intuition was telling her to go for it with Caleb. Of course, her body’s desperate need to taste him at least one more time was probably overriding any teensy bit of actual gift she had.
Obviously catching a whiff of her internal struggle, Caleb waved one hand as if brushing away the invitation.
“Look, I don’t blame you if you don’t want to go. It’s not my idea of a good time,” Caleb said with a shrug, moving behind the counter to where she’d left the laptop open. “What program do you use for bookkeeping?”
If they stayed here, she could enjoy his company and not have to face crowds. Or decisions. Oh, God, Pandora thought with a mental eye roll. She was such a wimp.
“You really don’t have to do that,” she said, feeling guilty over the relief. “I can come in early tomorrow and finish up the stock. We can go to the party now. Or, you know, go do something else.”
