Had to Be You: Bad Boys of Red Hook

by Robin Kaye

  Francis’s discomfort came out strong and clear in the chagrined expression covering his face more often than not. When she caught the flash of Patrice’s satisfied, I’ve-done-my-duty smirk, Rocki knew she was in trouble.

  Having Patrice as an ally was always a good thing since the woman’s machinations were ingenious, but Rocki didn’t like being the object of Patrice’s latest intrigue. She needed to put a stop to it and the only way to do that was to avoid the three objects of her interest at all costs.

  Rocki finished her set, gave her taking-a-break spiel, grabbed her water, and hightailed it to the bar without even looking in the direction of Patrice’s latest inquisition.

  “Hey, Simon, do you have time to pour me a drink, or should I come back there and take care of it myself?”

  It was always so much fun to see any of the Crow’s Nest bartenders’ reactions to her offer of help. Simon didn’t disappoint—the man looked like an albino who’d just seen a ghost.

  Rocki knew where her talents lay, and behind the bar was not one of those places. She hated covering for the bartenders, so, in order to avoid that, she might have played up her ineptitude just a bit. It worked—maybe too well. For God’s sake, she didn’t want to give the poor man a stroke.

  “Another Orange Crush, Rocki? Or is there something else you want?”

  She wanted to find out what Patrice was up to, but she refused to ask. She knew Patrice was waiting for her to do just that. “Orange Crush is fine, Simon, and would you refill my water, please?”

  The look of relief was almost laughable. She took a seat at the end of the bar next to Simon’s girlfriend, Elyse. “So, what do you know?”

  Elyse grinned so broadly, you’d think she was starring in a toothpaste commercial. Rocki wished she wore shades. “I know you’re off your game tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you forget the words before.”

  “You forgot the words?” Pete’s deep voice boomed from behind her. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Rocki ruffled her hair until it matched her mood. “So, I’ve been a bit distracted—sue me.”

  Elyse looked over her shoulder to stare at the hot guy.

  Pete’s hold on Rocki tightened and followed Elyse’s gaze. “The guy in the leather jacket is your distraction?”

  Elyse nodded. “But what a distraction. Rocki sure knows how to pick ’em.” She made a slurping sound.

  “For God’s sake, Elyse, wipe your face.” Rocki wished Simon would hurry up with her drink. She checked her watch. Shit, she still had fifteen minutes left on their break. She looked from hot biker dude to Pete.

  His eyes held a brightness she hadn’t seen in way too long with a twist of something she didn’t understand and wasn’t sure she even wanted to—undisguised humor. It looked like he fought off a chuckle.

  “I’m sorry about the brain fart. It won’t happen again.”

  “No need to apologize, it’s nice to see someone has the power to ruffle those pretty feathers of yours. I don’t believe it’s ever happened before. Your armor might be made of fabric, but until now, I’ve wondered if it was impenetrable.”

  “Pete—there will be no penetration with hot biker dude. You know me. Flirtation is one thing—the man is definitely a temptation—but that’s as far as it goes.”

  He looked over at hot biker dude and those bright eyes flashed again. “I guess we’ll see. He doesn’t look the type to give up easily.”

  Simon delivered Rocki’s drinks.

  Pete grabbed a handful of pretzels. “Simon, give me a scotch.”

  “I’m sorry, Pete. I can’t do that. How about a soda water with lime?”

  “Boy, if I wanted a soda water with lime, I’d have asked for it.”

  “You know I’d be the first one to pour for you, but damn, between Rocki, Skye, and Patrice, the women will have my head, and Elyse over there will chop off a few other important parts. Sorry. Fire me if you must, but I’m more afraid of them than I am of you.”

  Simon took off for the other side of the bar and left Pete giving her his I’m-disappointed-in-you look.

  “I can’t believe I can’t get a drink in my own bar. I thought you were on my side.”

  Rocki put her hand on his and gave it a squeeze. “I am on your side, and I want to make sure you’re here for a long time, so do us all a favor, listen to your doctors. I don’t want to lose you too.” Rocki’s eyes filled and, to her embarrassment, the water level increased with every blink. First she forgot the words to a song she knew as well as her own name—her real name—and now she was about to cry. “I don’t think I could take it, Pete.”

  “Sheesh, leave it to you to pull out the heavy artillery.” Pete kissed her cheek, and shook his head.

  Elyse signaled Simon and he grabbed another beer for her and a soda water for Pete. Simon delivered them both and leaned over the bar and kissed Elyse. “Did you tell her yet?”

  “Tell me what?” Rocki wondered if someone spiked the tap water with Love Potion Number Nine. First Simon fell hard for Elyse, and then Storm and Bree got back together and ended up married, and up until today, it looked as if Logan and Skye were on the fast track to the altar. Evidently they seemed to have hit an oil slick—not that anyone would give her a clue as to what the hell happened. It was all she could do to go into the kitchen to deliver Logan’s message to Skye without coming out sporting a meat cleaver. It was bad. Where they’d end up was anyone’s guess.

  Elyse shot Simon an annoyed glare with a twist of a just-wait-till-I-get-my-hands-on-you-later, sexy promise. “What is it with men feeling the need to rush everything?”

  Pete just stood there wearing his knowing grin and trying to look like he enjoyed drinking soda.

  Rocki’s gaze shot from Pete to Elyse. Then she tried to sneak a peek at the third finger of Elyse’s left hand but couldn’t—she was sitting on her hand. “Let me see it.”

  “See what?” Elyse was one of those sweet girls who blushed all the time. She was about Rocki’s age, maybe even older, but compared to Elyse emotionally, Rocki felt ancient.

  “The rock Simon gave you. You know, the engagement ring?”

  Elyse shook her head, but the bright red blush covering her face told the story better than any words could. “Come on, let me see. I promise I won’t say anything.”

  Elyse pulled the hand from beneath her leg and ran it nervously through her thick dark hair and then held it out for Rocki’s inspection. “Nice.” She’d seen some beautiful, expensive rings in her day, but this was over-the-top gorgeous in a totally artsy, Simon way. “This is Simon’s work no doubt.”

  “He said he sketched it out and asked the jeweler to make it.”

  “It’s so beautiful, he should consider designing jewelry full-time. It’s gorgeous, girlfriend. Congratulations. I’m thrilled for you.” And she was. She was just wondering what her life would be like once everyone else got hitched. Patrice was married and couldn’t get away often because of the kids and Francis, but it had never bothered her because she always had Bree. Now Bree and Storm were off on their honeymoon and it was anyone’s guess how much girl time they’d have now that Bree had taken the plunge. Elyse had joined them for their girls-night-out dates since she and Simon became an item, so now Rocki and Skye were the only single girls left.

  “You don’t look thrilled.” Disappointment draped Elyse’s face.

  “I am happy for you. Really. It’s just I’m the last one in the group who’s single. Well, depending on what happens between Skye and Logan anyway.”

  Pete grumbled something about Logan getting his head out of his ass.

  Elyse’s eyes widened. “So it’s Logan’s fault? I heard Skye took off all upset. It sounds pretty serious.” Her I’ve-got-my-happily-ever-after gaze landed on Rocki and she patted her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone.”

  Roc
ki wanted to run. Oh God, not again—why did couples feel the need to set up everyone who was happily single? She needed to stop this nonsense right now. “Oh no. I’m not looking to settle down. I feel as if I just got my independence—”

  “You were in a relationship?”

  Pete’s bushy eyebrows rose.

  Shit, shit, shit. Rocki took a deep breath. “No, not exactly. But there was always someone else controlling me—telling me how to live my life, where to go to school, what to study—”

  “Parents can be such a drag. I know.”

  Rocki wished she had her parents to blame, but then her parents would never have imposed their will on her or sent her away so she wouldn’t be a bother. Her uncles were nothing like her parents. She’d often wished she could do a DNA test to prove her theory that her father had been adopted. “I like my life now and I’m in no rush to change it. The last thing I want to do is give another man control over me.”

  “Hey.” Elyse sat up straighter. “I might be getting married but that doesn’t mean Simon controls me. I’m my own person; I just choose to share my life with Simon.”

  “Of course, and that’s great. It’s just not for me.” Rocki searched for a way to escape this conversation and she still had another ten minutes before her next set started. She looked around, trying to find someone else she had to talk to. Unfortunately, when she did, she spotted Patrice heading her way. Damn. “If you want to keep your news a secret you’d better sit on your hand. Patrice is on her way over. Pete, not a word, you hear?”

  He let out a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that. I’m getting out of Patrice’s way. Be good, ladies.”

  Rocki gave Pete a kiss on the cheek before turning back to Elyse. “Just be cool and don’t look Patrice in the eye.”

  “Like you’re not going to tell her.”

  “Hey, you have no idea how good I am at keeping secrets.” Hell, she could hardly believe how good she was. She spent more time with Patrice than anyone else besides Bree, and the woman didn’t have a clue. Maybe the secret to keeping secrets was never to let anyone know you have one.

  “Rocki?” Patrice took the seat beside her. “Are you avoiding me?”

  Rocki couldn’t help but laugh. “Avoid you? As if it would ever work. What would be the point in trying?”

  “Girlfriend, if I didn’t know you adore me, I’d wonder.”

  Rocki let her smile unfurl like a flag in a soft wind and did her best not to wince when Elyse kicked her ankle. Damn, that was going to leave a bruise. She kept her eyes on Patrice. “So? Go ahead. Bring it on. I know you want to.”

  Patrice looked around her to Elyse. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?”

  No one could pull off the innocent look as well as Elyse, probably because it wasn’t much of a stretch. She was the most innocent person Rocki had ever known—at least until she’d hooked up with Simon.

  “Maybe she’s referring to the man you and Francis were just questioning. The one who distracted Rocki so much she actually forgot the words to a song I’ve heard her sing at least a hundred times.”

  Patrice’s brows rose to the height of the Empire State Building. Simon’s little innocent Elyse was turning into a first-class traitor. If she hadn’t been snitching on her, Rocki would be almost proud. Oh yeah, Elyse was getting more than just her groove on lately.

  Patrice did her seventies Cher hair flip; the woman had the move down. “So, I saw you and Slater cozyin’ up in the booth.”

  “His name is Slater?” Oh God. “Slater, as in Pete’s son Slater?” Shit, the first guy she’d been interested in longer than she could remember and he was off-limits. “He’s practically family. Not family, exactly—it’s not as if we’d have two-headed children or anything—but there is no way in hell I’d ever get involved with one of Pete Calahan’s kids.”

  Patrice’s face lit up like a Times Square billboard. “So you already thought about taking him to bed? My, my, my, you do move fast. I’m impressed, girlfriend. If I wasn’t happily married, I’d take him for a spin too.”

  “But he’s Pete’s son.” Rocki groaned and thought about ordering a shot. Pete knew. God, no wonder he was so damn happy.

  “Is that a problem?” Patrice looked dangerous and way too proud of herself.

  “Hell, yeah, it’s a problem. Pete’s worse than a Jewish grandmother having a coffee klatch with the village yenta . . . or you. Pete already knows everybody’s business before they do. I’ve managed to stay out of his peripheral vision for three years and I’m not about to have him homing in on me like a vulture circling fresh roadkill.” Shit, shit, shit, he was probably already working on his flight pattern.

  Patrice and Elyse stared at her with their mouths hanging open in silent shock.

  “Look, I know Pete’s heart attack scared him, and that ever since he’s come home from the hospital, he’s been doing his damnedest to see all his boys settled. Which is understandable as long as one isn’t settled on me. I’m not daughter-in-law material.”

  Shit, bugger, bugger, shit! Why hadn’t she connected the blasted dots? A sailor, a computer geek—she’d heard all about him. She’d been so damn enamored with his body she’d obviously gone brain dead.

  Patrice didn’t have to feign shock—she was really and truly stunned. “You didn’t know?”

  “No! If I had, I never would have—” What? Come on to him? No, she would have run in the opposite direction.

  Patrice put on her evil queen face—she was obviously unaware of her tell, but Rocki had been a willing participant of her high jinks long enough to recognize it. “I think Slater looks like a perfect temporary distraction for you. He’s out of here come the first of the year. And you have to admit that it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone. And like you, he’s not looking for Mrs. Right—just a Ms. Right Now, and that’s your M.O.” She shrugged. “For you it’s always been Mr. Right Now, or at least it has been since I’ve known you.” Patrice hit her with her tell-me-all stare that for some strange reason always worked.

  Rocki looked away to make sure her penetrating gaze wasn’t some kind of voodoo truth serum.

  “Have you ever had a real long-term relationship?”

  “No, and I’m not looking for one.” She still refused to look at Patrice. She didn’t want to take any chances.

  “Good. Then a little fun, frolicking, and mattress tag with Slater would be great for both of you. Sounds like a temporary match made to get your mind and body back in the game. A woman shouldn’t go that long without an orgasm that’s not self-induced.”

  She caught Patrice’s gaze in the mirror behind the bar, hoping Patrice’s mojo couldn’t work due to the reflection. Still, she felt the pull. She rubbed her bare arms, trying to chase away the goose bumps. “Don’t knock BOB. All he needs to get me going is three C batteries and he’s even good in the tub or shower. Besides, Patrice, you know how Pete is. He’s—”

  “A grown man who knows his sons aren’t virgins. Heck, I’d be willing to bet that he even knows you’re not a virgin.”

  Rocki held her head in her hands and then ran her fingers through her hair, which was already standing straight up. “Forget about it, Patrice. The last thing I want to do is disappoint Pete or have him think less of me. No, the only thing I’m going to do with Slater is practice avoidance.” She chugged the rest of her drink, grabbed her water, and signaled Simon to switch off the canned music. It was time to start avoiding the most fascinating man Rocki had met in eons. “I gotta get back to work. Night, ladies.” With any luck, they’d both be gone before she finished up at two. Too bad it was a Friday night—they could be here until close, and knowing her two friends, that was exactly what they had planned.

  • • •

  Slater spent the rest of the night watching Rocki perform. He couldn’t believe she played here at his dad’s bar instead of going somew
here she and her band would be discovered. It would be one thing if they’d lived in the middle of nowhere. But the woman worked in a town loaded with people who would be more than happy to make her a star. Rocki had it all—the looks, the personality, the talent . . .

  He pulled out his phone and googled Nite Watch, and from what he could find, the band didn’t even have a Web site. What the hell?

  He googled the Crow’s Nest’s Web site and cringed. It was a one-page disgrace with a picture of Pop and the gang, and a description of the food and music, the address, and the hours. It didn’t even have an app that would offer directions. It was worthless.

  Patrice slid into the booth next to him and took his phone, looked at what he was doing, and then handed it back to him but not before she hit the kill button. “I don’t know about your chances with Rocki. She didn’t know she was flirting with one of Pete’s kids.”

  “I’m hardly a kid, Patrice.”

  “Doesn’t seem to matter. She’s under the impression that since his health scare, Pete’s trying to get you boys married off.”

  “Is he?”

  Patrice shrugged. “I don’t know. It could be that you’re all of a certain age—the age people tire of living alone and start looking for their other half. I guess before you do that, you have to know yourself pretty well, and as far as I can tell, Rocki’s still trying to figure herself out.”

  One look at Rocki told him the woman knew damn well who she was and what she wanted. That was one thing that attracted him to her in the first place.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know. Rocki’s different from anyone I’ve ever known. It’s as if every day is her birthday—she celebrates her life, she doesn’t simply live it. I love that about her. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her wish for anything she doesn’t have. Well, except maybe for a man with a body like Storm’s, but I think she only did that to give Bree a hard time.”

  “Is she running from a broken heart?”