“You tell Tyler he can visit anytime he wants. And if he’s not here for the Thanksgiving party, it’ll break my heart.”
Sheila grinned as he finished his drink. Her son had needed eye surgery a few months ago and Vincent organized a fundraiser at the bar. They made $10,000 on a Friday night, enough to cover his medical expenses.
He headed to his office and sat behind his desk, waiting for Crash to show up. The bastard abused his old lady and expected her to stay? Not in Vincent’s world. And since his president was away on business, Vincent maintained control of the charter. Confident he’d made the right decision, he mentally prepared for what he was going to say.
A few minutes later Crash appeared at his door.
“Come in,” Vincent said.
Seated across from Vincent, he dropped a wallet-sized photo of his old lady on the desk. “Saline is hard to miss.”
Vincent didn’t acknowledge the picture. “I found her.”
Crash fisted his hands at his sides; his face turned red. “Did you catch them together?”
“I’m not going to play politics, Crash. There’s no love lost between our clubs. And after what I found out today, you’d better get on your scooter and ride for Robstown before you find my boot buried up your ass.” He cracked his knuckles and leaned back in his leather chair—not caring how his guest reacted.
Crash’s mouth dropped open and he pounded his fist on top of the desk. “What the fuck are you talking about? We covered the details this morning. Dog Tag violated every bylaw by showing up at my bar and stealing my old lady. I demand justice. And if I don’t find it here, pretty sure your chapter president will give it to me.”
Vincent shook his head. “I’d rather unwrap a box of shit than look at you.”
Crash shot up. “Care to explain that?”
“Forked-tongued motherfucker.” Vincent met his rage with equal violence. “Showing up in my club with a benign story about how one of my Brothers seduced your old lady. You conveniently forgot to mention the torture tactics you use to keep her in line.”
“What did that lying bitch tell you?”
Vincent stood, ready to explode. “She didn’t need to say anything, I saw the evidence on her back. Get the fuck out.”
Crash hissed, openly sizing up Vincent. “You’re violating the code.”
Vincent smiled evilly, then slammed Saline’s old lady patch on the desk. “Not if she requested sanctuary. Here’s her answer.”
Crash eyed the vest angrily, then picked it up.
“If you’re thinking about retaliation, I’d reconsider. As of this morning, that little Property of Crash tattoo on her ankle has been replaced with worthier ink the size of my fist—Property of Dog Tag. Saline belongs to the Sons of Odin now.”
Vincent wanted the bastard to make a move, give him an excuse to unleash all his pent-up tension. It had been too long since he’d thrown a punch or had sex, the only two outlets he had. And when it came to hurting women and children, God only knew the extent of his patience.
“Our clubs have tentative peace; this won’t help,” Crash reminded him.
“I’d rather go to war than have to claim any affiliation with a man like you.” Vincent picked up the handset of the house phone and dialed zero. J.T. picked up in the shop. “Send Scoundrel and Jones to my office.” He hung up, then focused on Crash again. “You just earned an escort out of the city. Anything else I can help you with?”
Crash retreated from Vincent’s office the second the Brothers appeared in the hallway. With nothing left to say, why prolong the unsanctioned visit? The Sons of Odin and Man-o-Wars had nothing in common, never would.
Once he was sure he was alone, Vincent picked up his cell and dialed Dog Tag. “Just finished the meeting with Crash. Pack a suitcase and get Saline over here for a few days. I’d feel better if you stayed close. I don’t trust the Man-o-Wars.”
“You think Crash will try something?”
“I think reactions speak volumes, and he wasn’t a happy man when he left.”
“I’m sorry I jeopardized the club and didn’t come to you first.”
Vincent exhaled. “I forgive you, Brother, but I can’t overlook your bad judgment. What if someone sliced you open in the parking lot and you died? Do you know the ramifications? How I’d have to respond?”
“Blood for blood.”
“More than that.” Although Vincent and Dog Tag had patched out at the same time, Dog Tag lacked the maturity of an experienced member. Vincent blamed his arrogance and popularity with women. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“Understood.”
Finished at the bar, Vincent locked his office and left via the emergency exit. He didn’t want to see anybody right now. The conversation with Tina over lunch had gone slightly sour before he left the café and he needed to do recon before she had too much time to think about it. Weighing the pros and cons of starting a relationship with her didn’t produce any viable excuses not to. The usual detractors men complained about but never meant—getting stuck with one woman, financial demands, time constraints—none of those applied to her.
She had a career, friends, family—a life of her own. The majority of old ladies and pass-arounds needed something only a Brother could supply. Not Tina. She wanted him for his body and brains. It made him smile.
Suddenly it occurred to him that she’d offered a no-strings option. What kind of fool turns down a woman like Tina? He reached his bedroom in the clubhouse and closed and locked the door, then stepped in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the closet door. The answer hit him hard. A man who’s forgotten how good it feels to make love to a woman with a soul.
Chapter 13
Tina appreciated the lush surroundings in her office. She’d designed it with comfort in mind, and it doubled as a sanctuary on stressful days. The charcoal wallpaper and creamy lacquered desk her parents bought her as a graduation gift, combined with a classic blue velvet sofa and matching chairs set against the bright sunshine that flooded her work space through three windows, was what kept her sane in the morning. Never a morning person, she rarely engaged in deep conversation before she’d consumed two cups of coffee.
Her legal assistant, Madeline, greeted her in the hallway. “Have you seen the bouquet yet?”
“Did you get flowers from the fireman you’ve been dating?”
“Me?” she laughed. “Three dozen red roses and a Waterford crystal vase await you in your office.”
Perhaps Vincent had had a change of heart? Madeline handed her a cup of java, then walked with her down the well-lit corridor. Tina’s Jimmy Choo heels clicked on the tiles as she approached her open door. The silk drapes were drawn, the overhead lights off. Sitting in the middle of her desk was the most elegant bouquet she’d ever received.
“Did I exaggerate?” Madeline arched a brow.
Vincent wouldn’t waste money on something so frivolous. She walked to her desk and smelled the flowers as she grabbed the card pinned to the red ribbon tied around the vase. Look inside yourself to discover the truth…What the hell did that mean? And whoever sent it didn’t leave a name. But the vague language had Kline written all over it. Tina frowned and looked at her assistant. “What flower shop delivered these?”
“Blossom Shop Florist. The delivery guy left fifteen minutes ago. Is something wrong?”
“Please get the manager on the phone for me.” Tina dropped her leather briefcase on her desk.
“Yes, ma’am,” Madeline said as she scooted out of the office.
If her suspicions were correct, Kline had cheated her of the satisfaction of making the first strike. For the last two days she’d looked forward to summoning him to a private meeting, then dumping him as her client. She’d chosen Seth Logan as her replacement, a fairly young attorney with an ego that matched Kline’s. Let the two testosterone-saturated fools battle it out. Vincent’s concerns were well founded and she didn’t want to be subjected to Kline’s abuse again.
He
r phone rang and she picked up the headset. “Yes?”
“Gilbert Sanchez is on the line—he’s the manager at the flower shop.”
“Thanks, Madeline, put him through.”
The line beeped a couple of times before she heard Gilbert breathing.
“Mr. Sanchez?”
“Good morning,” he said. “Your assistant told me you’re displeased with the bouquet we just delivered.”
“Not exactly,” she explained. “It’s beautiful. But there was no name on the card.”
“Our customer wishes to remain anonymous.”
“Even if it involves a legal matter, possibly criminal charges?”
Gilbert cleared his throat. “In order to share private information I need a court order.”
“Of course,” Tina replied. “I’ll be in touch, Mr. Sanchez. Thank you.”
She sat in her high-backed chair and swiveled so she could stare out the closest window. Across the street she eyed Corpus Christi Bay. Families were enjoying the mild morning weather, walking and jogging, oblivious to the world around them. Everything moved in slow motion in Texas, especially in Corpus. But not the legal system. Her caseload had doubled recently, but judges cleared their dockets at the end of the year. She only hoped Seth would accept Kline as a client.
She buzzed Madeline. “Please contact Mr. Kline Barnes and set up a meeting for this morning.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Call Mr. Vincent Ramos and ask him to forward the invoice and pictures from his auto repair shop. I’ll email you his number.”
Two hours later, Kline knocked on her door. Tina looked up from her desk, once again turned off by his pricey tailored suit. “Come in,” she said. “And please shut the door.”
Kline did as she asked, then claimed one of the guest chairs in front of her desk. “Do you like red roses?” His gaze zigzagged around her office, obviously searching for the bouquet.
She sucked in a frustrated breath. “Mr. Barnes…”
“Kline.”
“Mr. Barnes,” she started again. “I find your question inappropriate. We are not personally involved. Our relationship is limited to this office and your ongoing criminal case. Whatever triggered this interest in me outside working hours needs to be addressed and stopped immediately.” She kept her eyes on his.
He crossed his long legs. “Your smile.”
“Excuse me?”
“Somewhere in that ridiculously long diatribe you asked what triggered my affection.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Of course you did. So I took the liberty of answering. Even if you don’t realize it yet, you smile at me whenever we’re together.”
Tina leaned forward, her mind all over the place. The guy had serious problems. “I smile at strangers on the street. It’s a professional courtesy, Mr. Barnes.”
“Your eyes say different.”
Tina gave him an impatient look. Either the man lived in a fantastical world of make-believe or the arrogant bastard assumed every woman desired him. “I didn’t invite you here to play games, Mr. Barnes. When you approached me in Tito’s Friday night, I explained how I feel. Then you tailed me to Flour Bluff and vandalized my vehicle. The messages you left on my answering machine and the flowers are all the evidence I need to file a complaint with your probation officer.”
He spread his legs and loosened his tie. “What messages? And what flowers?”
She blinked several times. After five minutes, she wanted to rip his perfect brown hair out. “As of today, I am no longer representing you. My assistant will contact you with the name of your new attorney. Or if you’re feeling adventurous, perhaps I can recommend another law firm that’s accepting new clients.”
“Don’t be too hasty, Ms. Bethel,” he shot back. “Alexander James, the man who signs your paychecks, was my father’s best friend. How would he react if I walked into his office and explained one of his junior associates is making indecent proposals to a client?”
“That’s preposterous. You’re a convicted felon. Why would he take your word over mine?”
The professional noose tightened around her neck a little more. “Uncle Alex always sides with me,” he said flatly.
Her mouth gaped, shocked at his threat. “Get out of my office.”
He didn’t budge. Suddenly her cellphone jumped to life on top of her desk. A perfect excuse to disregard Kline’s continued unwanted presence. “Hello?” she answered, voice a bit shaky.
“Tina, you okay?” Vincent asked.
“Yes,” she said, turning away from Kline. “In the middle of things.”
“Kline?”
“Yes.”
Silence followed.
“I want to see you tonight. We need to talk.”
“Text me,” Tina suggested. “We’ll finalize a time and place.” She hung up.
“Clandestine meetings with other clients?” Kline tsked. “Now I know.”
“Know what?” She turned around, glaring at him, not wanting an answer. Maybe he’d accuse her of subliminally seducing him, because she’d never done anything to cause this obsession he seemed to have. “If you don’t leave my office now, you’ll get an armed escort downstairs.”
“Relax.” Kline slowly stood up. “I’m pleased you reconsidered the decision to dump my case. I’ll set an appointment with Madeline for next week. We still have plenty to discuss, Ms. Bethel.” He headed for the exit, then glanced over his shoulder. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
After the door clicked shut, Tina picked up the closest object off her desk and flung it against the farthest wall. Staples exploded everywhere and she fell back against her chair. Something needed to be done about Mr. Barnes.
Chapter 14
Vincent drew a deep breath before he knocked on Tina’s front door. The day’s events had definitely influenced the decision he’d made. He wanted to see her again—maybe even needed to. Though the bitter past still haunted him, she’d renewed his hope for something better. Maybe not a full-scale relationship, but a chance to feel alive again. Only a woman could provide the kind of companionship and relief he’d craved since the night he met Tina in the parking lot at Valhalla.
Yeah, she’d conjured old feelings like a magician. Confused him. Made him stir-crazy whenever she refused his sound advice. But her smile, penetrating eyes, girlish laughter, and mischievous streak sucked him right into her world. He combed his fingers through his hair. Would she reject him? How many times had he pushed her away, begging her to understand why he wouldn’t surrender to their mutual attraction?
Vincent knew this could go one of two ways. She’d either send him packing or do what he’d grown accustomed to where Tina was concerned, devour him with enthusiasm. He pounded on the door.
She met him with a warm smile, eyeing the single white rose and bottle of red wine in his hands. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
Vincent’s gaze traveled slowly down her body in deep appreciation. Dressed in silky shorts and a white tank top, her curves popped. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So am I.”
He followed her into the living room and couldn’t believe the song playing on the stereo: Cutting Crew’s “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.” The tune from Lang’s wedding reception. The night he choked like a high school boy and retreated behind the defensive walls he’d so carefully constructed after his second divorce. There’d be no repeat tonight.
He set the wine on the table, then offered the flower.
Her soft smile said it all. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”
Then he did something surprising: he tugged her into his arms and started to sway to the beat of the music. Hands locked behind her back, he sighed as she nuzzled close and kissed his chest. For the first time in years, excitement swirled inside him, the nervous anticipation of what came next.
“Tina?”
“Hmmm?” She looked up.
There were so many things to say. �
�I can’t make any promises. But I can tell you how I feel right now. Since the night you showed up, I’ve been in a fucking daze, unable to concentrate on anything but you.”
Tina studied his features, her green eyes narrowing. “I’ve wanted you since the first time we met, Vincent. I’m not afraid to admit it. And if tonight is all you can give me, so be it.”
The song ended, then restarted. “Did you…”
“Looped it,” she finished on a sassy grin.
He slowly backed her against the wall near the end of the sofa. Music affected Vincent in ways he couldn’t express, and knowing she’d picked this song for him, it gave him a fucking erection. He plucked the rose out of her hand and dropped it on the end table. When he turned back, she hadn’t moved an inch.
Damned if he didn’t want to claim every part of her, in the way only an outlaw biker could. They’d discussed wearing his patch, and he’d used it as a weapon against her. Stupid fool. Tina deserved the best of him, not the side that fucked pass-arounds and sent them away in the middle of the night.
He tilted her head back, then cupped her throat. She gasped, not in shock or fear, but like she understood his intent. Vincent didn’t make love just to get off. Not with Tina. He’d fantasized about this for close to a year; what he’d say, how he’d move, where he’d fuck her the first time. And though none of this had played out quite the way he’d imagined, the feelings were raw and real. Too absolute to ignore.
He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, breathing in her soft perfume. All of her, that’s what he hungered for, her body and mind.
Without needing to say a word, she raised her arms above her head and Vincent stripped off her top. The skimpy lace bra she wore served no purpose but to tease him. He buried his face between her tits, while his right hand snaked behind her back and unsnapped the metal clasp. She guided the straps down her arms and let it fall on the floor, her breasts as beautiful as he remembered, her hard nipples begging to be sucked. Trying to control his rushed breaths, he circled her areola with his tongue, pinching the other nipple at the same time. Fuck.
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