Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook

by Robin Kaye

  “He’s eating the food!”

  Storm shrugged. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’ll clean it up. Come on, boy.” Storm knelt and, ever so smoothly, pulled the bag out of the dog’s mouth. “Let’s get you back into the tub. Nicki, you stay here with Bree and pick up whatever food is salvageable—save that meat for after he’s finished with his bath as a treat, okay?”

  Nicki started picking through the groceries while Bree stood there in shock.

  “When Bree comes back around, find out if there are any ratty old towels I can use to dry him off when I’m done. And no matter what, don’t open the bathroom door. Understand?”

  Bree opened her mouth to ream him. He held up his hand, stopping her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll replace all the food he’s ruined—just make a list, and I’ll clean it all up too. You know, why don’t you just go back to your place until we need you?”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’ve got to get him to a vet and have him all checked out, get his shots, and then buy him some puppy food and supplies.”

  He couldn’t be serious. “You’re not planning on keeping this…this—”

  “Puppy. He’s Nicki’s dog. She’s been taking care of him since before Pop’s heart attack.”

  “No she hasn’t—” Bree looked at Nicki who was suddenly grinding her sneaker into the wet, dirty carpet.

  “All those times you went missing, you were with this—”

  Nicki looked at Storm, who put a hand on her shoulder, while the other firmly held the leather strap constraining the dog lapping up the broken eggs. “His name is D.O.G., and he’s real nice, Bree. Storm promised he wouldn’t take him to the pound.”

  She really wanted to kill Storm now. “He did, did he? Well, we’ll just have to talk to Pete about this.”

  Storm gave the back of Nicki’s neck an affectionate squeeze and smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about Pop. He’s already on board.” He gave the strap a tug, forcing the dog to sit, and then picked up the huge dog with all the gentleness he’d used when he held her just last night—right before he stomped all over her heart. No, that last phrase needed some serious editing; she wouldn’t give Storm that much power. She settled on a reworded phrase: before he’d tap-danced on her feelings. Yes, that was better. She stood there, unable to move, watching Storm laugh as the dog licked his ear and rested his head on Storm’s shoulder. She almost felt sorry for the poor, stupid mutt; he was in for one hell of a disappointment, and from the look of trust and hero worship Bree saw in Nicki’s eyes, the puppy wouldn’t be Storm’s only victim.

  CHAPTER 10

  Rocki raised her hand to knock on Pete’s apartment door just as a disheveled Bree stepped into the hallway and slammed it behind her. Bree looked like a drowned rat and smelled twice as bad. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Bree shook her head as if she couldn’t speak. She looked as if she were about to explode.

  Rocki wondered if it would be in tears or temper. The way her eyes were filling, maybe both. She was tempted to give Bree a hug—she looked as if she could use one, but the stink permeating the air had her taking a step back. “I’ll give you a hug after you take a shower.”

  Bree unlocked the door to her apartment, and Rocki followed her in, barely making it through before Bree slammed that door too. Rocki covered her nose and mouth with her hand. “What is that smell?”

  “Wet mutt.”

  “I’ve smelled wet dogs before, but never like this. Is it part skunk?”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Rocki set her Coach bag down on the table. “Storm or the dog?”

  “Both.”

  “Why don’t you get a shower while I open the windows to air the place out, and then you can tell me all about it?”

  Bree pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and spun around—the scent swirling through the apartment had Rocki pushing open a window. “Who does he think is going to take care of that…that beast after he flies back to the Godzone? Isn’t that just like him? He comes here, makes a mess of everything, and leaves.”

  Rocki opened the bifold doors to the closet that held Bree’s washer, dryer, and cleaning supplies. “Do you have any Febreze in here?” She slid cleaning products around, looking for the familiar blue spray bottle. Once Rocki’s brothers hit their teenage years, she should have bought stock in the company. It was the only way she was able to live in the same apartment with them. She hoped it worked as well on dog stink as on boy stink.

  “I can’t believe Pete is going to allow this.” Bree pulled off the shirt she wore over her tank top and tossed it in the washer. “Pete can’t walk up the steps by himself or take care of Nicki; how is he supposed to handle a hundred-pound dog?”

  Rocki covered her nose and mouth again to face Bree. “I’ll run down to the corner and buy a bottle of Febreze—or six.”

  “Nicki looks at him as if he walked on water.”

  “The dog?”

  “No, Storm. He’s been here two days, and he’s already taught her how to drive and given her a puppy. The next thing you know, he’s going to buy her a damn pony. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

  “Storm taught Nicki to drive? She’s only ten.”

  “That’s what I said.” Bree went into the bathroom.

  Rocki was thankful to hear the shower starting. “Why do you need to compete with Storm?”

  “I love her. It’s taken me three months to get her to trust me; he walks in and, in two days, he’s stolen her heart.”

  “Nicki’s heart is big enough to love you both.”

  “He’s going to leave, and then what is she going to do?”

  “Whose heart are you concerned about, Nicki’s or yours?”

  Rocki turned toward the kitchen; she didn’t need to hear the answer to that one. She knew it as well as her own name. Bree, on the other hand, was the queen of denial. “Toss your other clothes into the hall, and I’ll start the wash.” Rocki searched through Bree’s kitchen drawer where she kept her cooking utensils and wrapped her hand around the plastic-covered handle of a pair of barbecue tongs, held them up in the air, and snapped them together. “Bingo.” There was no way she was going to touch those smelly, wet clothes.

  After Rocki picked up Bree’s clothes and had the wash going, she went back to Pete’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Is it safe to come in?”

  Nicki opened the door a crack. “I don’t know. Storm is using Bree’s hair dryer in the bathroom. I’m not sure if it’s for him or D.O.G. I’m cleaning up what’s left of the groceries, but from the way Bree looked, I don’t think anyone is safe, especially not me.”

  Rocki did her best to smile, even though the scent of the place was coming through the open door. The last thing she wanted to do was go into the stinky apartment. Sometimes this best-friend crap really sucked. She dragged in a deep breath of fresh air and stepped inside. After a look at the dripping Nicki, Rocki figured Nicki needed the same treatment Bree got. “Don’t worry about Bree—she’s young; she’ll get over it.” Eventually…maybe. Her gaze swept the apartment. The entire place was covered with what looked like splattered mud. “I just threw Bree’s clothes in the wash. She’s in the shower now. Since your bathroom is occupied, why don’t you go grab some fresh clothes and run over to Bree’s so you can shower after she gets out, and we’ll toss your clothes in with hers? How’s that sound?”

  Nicki pulled her wet top away from her skin and shrugged. “I don’t think Bree wants to see me right now. Or ever.”

  Poor kid. “I think you’re wrong. Come on.” Bree was so gonna owe her for this one. Rocki grabbed Nicki’s dirty hand in hers, stepped over what was left of the mess, and dragged Nicki to her bedroom. “Let’s pick out your clothes and get back to Bree’s before the prewash cycle ends.”

  Nicki looked up at her, her brows all scrunched together. “You sure?”

  “Positive. Here, I’ll get the clothes so you don’t dirty them. Just tell me wha
t you want to wear.”

  Nicki pointed out an outfit that reminded Rocki that the poor girl needed some real fashion advice, but now was not the time. She stopped outside the bathroom door. “Storm?” She yelled through the door.

  The hair dryer turned off. “Yeah?”

  “It’s Rocki. I’m taking Nicki over to Bree’s to get cleaned up.”

  “Okay. Send her back when she’s done.”

  Nicki still didn’t look comfortable with the idea, so Rocki rested her hand on the base of Nicki’s neck and walked her back to Bree’s place. She grabbed a fresh towel from the linen closet and knocked on the bathroom door. “Bree? I brought Nicki over to get cleaned up. Are you finished?”

  The door opened, and Bree stepped out in a towel. She took one look at Nicki and smiled.

  Rocki pushed Nicki toward the bathroom. “Your turn, Nicki. Take your clothes off and jump into the shower, or do you want to take a bath?”

  Nicki kicked off her shoes. “No, I think I’ve had enough of baths for a while. I’ll just get in the shower.” She finally looked at Bree, her head tilted with uncertainty. “You sure you don’t mind? You were awful mad.”

  “Nicki, I wasn’t mad at you, but even if I was, you’re always welcome here. I love you; that doesn’t stop when I get mad. Do you stop loving me when you’re mad at me?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  Rocki rolled her eyes. “Okay, you two, enough of the syrupy-sweet stuff. Bree, get the kid out of those clothes so I can put them in the wash—she’s stinking up the joint.”

  As soon as Rocki had the clothes in the wash, she tossed the tongs in the sink and then let herself into Bree’s bedroom.

  “Do you mind?” Bree held her top in front of her.

  Sheesh, it wasn’t as if she were naked. She had a bra and shorts on already. “No, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” Rocki flopped down on the unmade bed. It looked like someone either had had wild sex in it or a really restless night. From the trash can overflowing with tissues and Bree’s less than perky disposition, Rocki figured it was the latter. “So, no hot monkey love with Storm last night, huh?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Rocki, please, leave it alone.”

  “No. You might as well just tell me what happened before Nicki gets out of the shower. Knowing that kid, you have about five minutes.” She waited.

  Bree said nothing.

  “Don’t make me ask Storm.”

  Bree yanked a tank top over her head. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Rocki checked her manicure. “Are you willing to bet on that?”

  Bree shoved her arms through and stepped toward the bed. “Remind me why you’re my best friend?”

  Rocki gauged her distance to the door in case Bree decided to throttle her. “Because I know the good, the bad, and the impossible sides of you, and I still love you. So do us both a favor and tell me what the hell happened.”

  Bree turned toward the window and looked out. “He did the same thing he did last time—he ran.”

  “He didn’t run.” Rocki slid off the bed and stood beside Bree, watching her reflection in the window. “When I brought Nicki over here, Storm was in the bathroom with the dog and a blow-dryer.”

  “I didn’t say he ran far.” Bree swiped at her eyes, wiping away angry tears. “One minute I was lying naked in his arms thinking finally we were gonna…you know—”

  “Make love?”

  “And the next, he was pulling his pants on and walking away.” She turned and seemed to deflate. “He said he couldn’t do it.”

  “Equipment malfunction?” Rocki did her best not to laugh. Storm was the last person she’d imagine having that problem. He always looked so physically…capable. Damn. What a letdown.

  Bree’s eyes filled. She swallowed hard, and then blew out a breath. “No, that would have hurt less.”

  “What did he say?”

  “What does it matter?”

  Rocki figured it mattered a hell of a lot. She hadn’t seen Bree this upset since…Well, she’d never seen Bree this upset. She shook her head and started toward the door. “Looks like I’m going to have to talk to Storm after all.”

  “Rocki, please, don’t.”

  “Why?” She stopped and faced Bree.

  “Because”—Bree sank down on the bed and pulled a tissue out of the box—“because I told him I wanted him for sex for as long as he was here, and when he leaves, I would find myself a nice boring accountant type.”

  “You actually said that?”

  “Yeah, why else would I want to sleep with someone like Storm?”

  “Because you’re in love with him, and you’ve been in love with him since you were a kid.”

  “I am not. I may have been in love with him years ago when I was young and stupid. I’m not even sure I like him now; I’m just attracted to him. I told him that too. I was completely honest.”

  “You told him you didn’t like him, but you wanted to sleep with him? No wonder he left you naked on the bed. You hurt him.” Bree’s righteous indignation wavered a bit, and if Rocki didn’t misread her, it was replaced with a touch of shame. Good. “So what did he say?”

  “He said he didn’t want to be used and that he wouldn’t use me, but if I wanted to make love to him, to let him know. Do you believe him?”

  Rocki held up her hands. “Wait. Let me get this straight. You think Storm’s the bad guy in this scenario?”

  “Of course I do. He didn’t have any problems with it until we were in bed.”

  “When did you tell him you didn’t like him?”

  “When we were making out on the couch.”

  “Bree, I know you don’t have much experience with men, so let me clue you in on something. When men are trying to use both their big head and their little head at the same time, it takes them a lot longer to respond to verbal stimuli than physical. Men are not natural multitaskers—especially when there’s a naked woman involved. Frankly, I’m impressed that what you said even registered, and I’m even more impressed that Storm put on the brakes. It serves you right.”

  “What?”

  “You insulted him, you hurt him, and you’re surprised he didn’t want to…well, not to be crude or anything, but you’re surprised he didn’t want to fuck you? Because, girlfriend, that’s what you asked him to do in no uncertain terms. If a guy sweet-talked me like that, I’d have left him on the bed—unconscious. I hate to say it, but he was a lot nicer than I would have been. You owe him an apology.”

  “Me? He walked out on me—again.”

  The shower stopped, and Rocki got off the bed. “Storm ran out on you years ago. It was wrong, but Bree, he was practically a kid. You’re an adult, and now you treated him like a piece of meat.”

  “I was being honest.”

  “Oh, and that makes it all right? Did you even consider his feelings?”

  Bree didn’t answer.

  “I’m going over to check on Pete and help Storm clean up. It sounds as if he could use a friend.” She stopped at the door and turned. “When Nicki gets dressed, send her back to Pete’s. I think Storm has plans for her and that dog of theirs. Since I don’t have anything better to do, I’ll hang out with Pete until they get back.”

  “You’re leaving?” She looked dumbfounded.

  “You asked me to come by and look after Pete for a while, and that’s what I’m going to do. Besides, you need some time alone to think about what happened with Storm, what you said to him, and put things in perspective. I’ve never known you to be cruel, Bree, not even to people like Daniel who deserve it. Storm doesn’t.”

  “I didn’t intend to hurt him.”

  “Didn’t you?” Rocki opened the door. “I think it was Ian Percy who said, ‘We judge others by their behavior. We judge ourselves by our intentions.’ It’s always stuck with me. Sometimes our intentions and our behavior don’t match. Just sayin’. I’ll see you later.”r />
  * * *

  Storm stepped out of the shower wearing nothing but a scowl and a towel, and he found Rocki washing the walls of the hallway. “Hey, Rocki. You don’t have to do that.”

  Rocki blew the pink part of her bangs out of her eyes and sat back on her heels, looking up at him. “Oh, I know. I thought you could use some help. I checked on Pete—he’s sleeping—and Nicki should be back any minute. Where’s your furry friend?”

  “I locked him in my room.” He clamped his hand on the towel that was slipping down his hips. “I’m going to get some clothes on. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Rocki returned to scrubbing, and he slipped past her into his room, making sure D.O.G. didn’t escape. Storm found the dog asleep on the bed. One eye opened and watched him warily. Storm had never had a dog before, but after one look at D.O.G., he understood where the term “dog tired” came from. He was tempted to join him. It sounded a lot better than dealing with the mess he’d made of the apartment and whatever was left of his relationship with Bree. “Don’t get too used to sleeping there, boy. That’s my bed, and I’m not into sharing it with dogs.” He’d hoped to share it with Bree, but if last night didn’t kill his chances, bringing a stray dog home had probably done the trick.

  Storm reached for his belt and remembered it was ruined. He added a new belt and a dog bed to the list of things to buy as he pulled on his clothes and slipped out without waking his new roommate.

  Rocki had moved on to wiping down the leather couch while Nicki kneeled on the kitchen counter, putting away canned goods. All the windows were open, but the place still smelled like wet dog with a twist of Lysol—an improvement.

  “Rocki, thanks for helping out.”

  “What are friends for?” She tossed the rag into the bucket and stepped closer. “You doing okay?”

  Storm figured she was asking about more than just his health. “I’ll live.” The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his disaster of a relationship with Bree when Nicki was in earshot. “Nicki and I have to take off for a little while. Would you mind hanging around here for an hour or two so we can get D.O.G. his shots and pick up a few things? There’s a store that has a vet right there. I called them, and they said to come right over.”