A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  “Would it make you feel better,” she continued, “if I was a little scared, maybe a little needy?”

  “God, no.” She’d lived enough of her life in fear. As his body stirred, he locked his teeth. “But you don’t have to be so damn happy about it, either.”

  Her cool fingers moved over his neck. “Is that what attracted you to Marla?”

  “What?” Following along wasn’t easy, not while she touched him without fear. Not when her posture showed off her cleavage. Not with her voice all husky and deep.

  Crossing her legs, she went more or less sideways in the seat to better face him. “Marla.” In contrast to what she said, she turned her hand and drifted her knuckles over his jaw, under his chin. “Were you drawn to her because she’s a typically helpless female?”

  With her skirt hiking even higher, of course he looked at her legs. Again. They were so smooth, slim but shapely. And he could almost imagine them open to him or wrapped around his waist.

  Or warm against his jaw…

  Damn.

  On the one hand, it surprised Spencer that Arizona would utilize blatant female ploys. But on the other hand…he knew better than to ever underestimate her. She used those ploys for a reason…he had to figure out why.

  Unsure of her endgame, he took care with his reply. The last thing he wanted to do was make Marla more of a target; Arizona already didn’t like her. “She’s a successful Realtor, an independent woman who owns her own home. I wouldn’t call that helpless.” But Marla did like to play off the idea of a single woman alone. More often than not, the ruse compelled him to lend a hand.

  “Maybe for her, calculating is a better word choice, then.”

  “Is that jealousy talking?” Given Arizona’s mercurial mood swings, he had reason to worry.

  Finally drawing her hand away, Arizona scowled. “Why would I be jealous?”

  “I have no idea. She’s just a neighbor—”

  “That you slept with.”

  Right. Definitely tones of jealousy. Figuring her out could take a lifetime. “I’ve slept with a lot of women…”

  Affront stiffened her spine. “Big whoop. I’ve slept with—”

  “Don’t.” Muscles suddenly tense, Spencer worked his jaw. He did not want her drawing comparisons between consensual sex and human trafficking. “It’s not the same thing.”

  Gently, she whispered, “Yeah, I know.” She retreated to look out the window.

  He missed her touch, especially since she’d replaced it with the chill of her cold shoulder. “What are you up to?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Something,” he corrected.

  Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowed. “Forget it.”

  Like hell. “Arizona…”

  Shaking off her melancholy, she cut in to say, “Don’t forget to drop me off near a bus stop so I can arrive separate from you.”

  He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Yeah, you’re kind of being an ass.”

  He paused before pointing out, “Now you owe me two.”

  “Kisses? Good. Great.”

  That earned her another double take. “Is that a joke?”

  Her blue-eyed gaze gave away her simmering temper. “Why not?” In a tone more flippant than not, she curled her lip and said, “You kiss like a schoolboy anyway.”

  Well, hell. He hadn’t seen that coming. “Let me make sure I understand this.” He glanced at her elevated chin. “You’re complaining about how I’ve kissed you?”

  She didn’t deny or confirm that. “Maybe I should really let you have it, and go for an even dozen.”

  “Kisses?” His heart punched into his ribs. “Yeah, maybe you should.”

  Mulish, she crossed her arms, swung her foot in agitation and went back to staring out the window.

  “Come on, honey.” He turned down the route toward where Dare waited. He’d ensure that Arizona made it onto the bus without issue, and then Dare would tail her to the bar. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

  “Until you started admiring Marla, I was having a good time.”

  “I wasn’t admiring her.” Just like a woman to twist things around. “You asked a question and I answered it.”

  “Whatever.”

  That flippant response annoyed him even more. “Forget about Marla already, will you?” He didn’t want her walking into the bar pissed off over nonsense. He wanted, needed, for her to bring her A-game by being calm and collected. “For the last time, she’s only a neighbor.”

  “Hey, I hear you, but I don’t think Marla got the memo.”

  “God Almighty, woman. Seriously? We don’t have enough to keep us occupied tonight without you picking a fight?”

  Going still, she stared at him, then groaned. She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Yeah, all right.” A second or two passed, and she half laughed. “I didn’t mean to ruin things by nitpicking.”

  “Things?”

  She flagged a hand between them. “The little picnic was nice.”

  Exasperation got the better of him. “Eating fast food in the front of a truck at a deserted park prior to using yourself as bait to draw in the worst type of creep doesn’t count as a picnic.”

  She blinked at that long string of nonsense. “Oh, well…” She opened her purse and got out a stick of gum. “It did for me.”

  Shit. Now he felt like a jerk. “Yeah,” he reluctantly admitted. “Me, too.”

  “Uh-huh.” She popped the gum into her mouth, folded the wrapper, and put it in the ashtray. “And here you just said you wouldn’t lie.”

  “It’s odd, no denying that, but so far I’ve enjoyed every minute with you. For sure, you’ll never bore me.” He thought it prudent to add, “Not that I share your enthusiasm for our agenda tonight.”

  She chewed her gum and, through the car window, watched the scenery pass by. “You’ll see. I can take care of myself.”

  Because she’d always had to.

  But not anymore, not with him. And thinking of all the ways he wanted to care for her, he asked, “What’s your favorite place to eat?” She deserved to be pampered. Dinners out, movies, maybe some dancing…

  “Hmm.” She gave it very little thought. “I don’t know.” She rolled one shoulder. “The dinner you cooked the other day was about the best I’ve ever had. Especially the cake.”

  “There’s plenty left. If you want to pig out, we can finish it off tonight.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She gave him a quick smile. “But it was so good, I’d rather savor it.”

  “No need. There will be another cake at Dare’s, I’m sure.”

  She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  The small gathering was meant to make her happy, not fill her with dread. “Not looking forward to it?”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but…I hate being the center of attention, you know?”

  “I’m guessing it won’t be the hardship you’re imagining.” Once she was there, she’d enjoy herself. Somehow he’d see to it. To keep her from dwelling on it, he said, “Since you’ll be staying with me, is there anything in particular you’d like me to stock up on? More sweets maybe?”

  She shrugged. “If you want cookies, hey, I won’t argue.”

  “I can make a grocery store run. And I like cooking, so if you have a preference for dinners, just let me know.”

  “Except for weapons, I’m not real picky.”

  He did not want to talk weapons with her again. “Steak? Chicken? Come on, give me a clue.”

  Indifferent, she offered no suggestion. “I’ve never really been a foodie, you know? I eat when I’m hungry, at any place that
’s cheap but clean. I mean, I don’t want squid or snails or anything. No fish with their faces still on there. But otherwise, if you cook it, I promise I’ll like it.”

  “Yeah, I’m not big on fish with faces, either.” He turned along a road leading into a more congested commercial area. He’d have to drop her off soon—and he was dreading it already. “You specified it had to be cheap?”

  “My funds are limited, remember? Especially right now. I mean, Jackson tries to overpay me for doing a little computer work, but…” She shuddered. “I detest taking charity.”

  “It’s not—”

  “Yeah, it is,” she insisted, “no matter how Jackson denies it. But since I haven’t held up any dealers lately—”

  “Jesus, I hope not.” He hadn’t even considered the possibility. “If you even think of—”

  “You’re not my boss,” she interjected, “and I haven’t been focused on gambling. So…” She held up her hands, philosophical about her meager possessions. “I have the basic necessities. More than enough to get by.”

  Later he’d deal with the idea of her mugging criminals. For now, he wanted to talk about the few bags she kept in her trunk. “What about clothes?”

  “You haven’t seen me running around naked, have you?”

  A clear visual struck his beleaguered brain. No, but I want to. Out of self-preservation, he cut to the chase. “What you have in the trunk and in your overnight bag…is that all you own?”

  “Sheesh, get rid of the long face, will you? I keep things simple for a reason.”

  “Being?”

  “When you have things, property that’s important to you, then someone can take it away.”

  Damn, but that was a sad attitude. “No photos? No jewelry?”

  “Yeah, right. Photos of what?” She touched the hoop in her earlobe. “I have a few pairs of earrings, some bracelets and stuff that I wear when I’m working. Otherwise, that stuff just gets in my way.”

  Working. God, he’d never get used to her thinking in those terms. “So you don’t care about fashion?”

  That earned an honest laugh. “Do I look like a fashion plate to you? I have enough clothes that I don’t have to do laundry every day. And once I get their attention in this getup, I can revert back to my more comfortable duds. Anything more just takes up space and ties me down.”

  So many times, in so many ways, she broke his heart without even trying. He pulled up to the curb. He hated to say it but knew she wouldn’t turn back now. “The bus stop is around the corner, two blocks down.”

  She undid her seat belt. “I’ll find it.”

  Unable to help himself, Spencer caught her arm. Her bare skin was silky soft, warm. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “You got it.”

  He was far from reassured. “Don’t forget that I’ll be watching. Don’t go anywhere that I can’t see you.”

  A huff of exasperation. “That’s a given.”

  And still he couldn’t make himself let her go. “Dare will ghost you to the bus stop, then follow along until you get off the bus near the bar.”

  “If that’s what he wants to do, I’m okay with it.” She reached for the door handle. “I sort of figured he’d do something like that anyway. In some ways, he, Trace and Jackson are pretty predictable.”

  Was she disappointed that Jackson hadn’t come along tonight instead? Spencer shook his head, refusing to let his mind go there right now. “The bus lets you out right by the Green Goose.”

  “I know. I scoped out the area myself.”

  “I have all of Dare’s codes. If you see me check my phone, you know something is going on. Remember, if this plan goes off the rails—”

  “Spencer, I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll pay attention. I’ll stay out of danger.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her meager biceps. “I really hate this.”

  After an indulgent look, Arizona released the door handle and settled back in her seat. “Know what?”

  Had she finally come to her senses? “What?”

  She took out her gum, placed it back in the wrapper and put it in the ashtray again.

  Then, before Spencer realized her intent, she turned to him, braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to brush a kiss over his mouth.

  Everything male within him froze before going red-hot. Not grabbing her close was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He settled his hands on her narrow waist and relished her freely given affection. “It’s not too late—”

  “Shh.” Against his lips, she whispered, “Keep your powder dry, Spence. It’s going to be fine.” She kissed him again, a light butterfly kiss, and then she pulled away. “You have my word.”

  * * *

  SITTING IN HIS TRUCK stewing, Spencer watched the entrance to the bar. Arizona should be showing up shortly.

  He hated this.

  Not once had he seen Dare, so he put in a quick call to the number given him.

  Dare Macintosh answered on the first ring. “Problem?”

  Spencer stared down the street, but the bus didn’t show. “Do you see her?”

  “Of course.” There was a moment of silence, and then, half under his breath, Dare said, “She’d be hard to miss.”

  “I know.” Spencer rubbed his forehead. “The outfit wasn’t my idea, believe me.”

  “Not sure we can blame the clothes. On another woman, that skirt and top would be no big deal. On Arizona, it spells a lot of trouble.”

  Suffering his own twinge of jealousy, Spencer growled, “I know.”

  “Do you?” Dare went right to the point. “You’re going to have your hands full tonight. I suggest you get yourself together.”

  What the hell did that mean? “You have something to say to me?”

  Lacking any real inflection, almost as if he was sharing the weather report, Dare said, “You’re personally invested and that’s not a good thing.”

  The censure cut. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “When it comes to Arizona? I doubt it. You’re letting her screw with your head.”

  Instead of trying to deny that, he pointed out the obvious. “You were personally invested when you went after Alani, and when you rescued your wife, Molly.”

  “I’m not you.”

  Hell, no denying that. Spencer knew he could hold his own, but Dare was in a special league, shared only by Trace and Jackson.

  “Right.” It occurred to Spencer that he sounded bitchy. He drew a deep breath, then another. It didn’t help. “If it was any woman other than Arizona—”

  “You could be detached and calculating. I know. Arizona doesn’t exactly make it easy to stay uninvolved.”

  Finally seeing the bus, Spencer wrapped it up. “She’s here.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he did. Cutting back a growl of frustration, Spencer said, “If you see anything, if you even suspect something might be going down—”

  “I’ll send you one of the codes we went over. Don’t mix them up.”

  Spencer ground his molars together. He looked around again and still saw no sight of Dare anywhere. Stealthy bastard. “I’ve got them memorized. Later.”

  The second he disconnected the phone, he saw Arizona step off the bus and look around as if she’d never seen a lighted, flashy, busy bar before. Already two guys were hitting on her, one who looked around forty, one probably closer to her own age.

  They both appeared charmed by her shy smiles and reserved manner.

  Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Spencer forced himself to sit still in the truck cab and observe without seeming to stare. That he’d pulled up across the street, in the shadows, helped him to go unnoticed.

  Watchin
g Arizona with the men, he had to admit that she just might be able to pull this off. He saw her as others would; her air of confidence gone, a show of vulnerability masking her bravado. A deliberate ruse, but still, he couldn’t stop staring. His chest hurt, his nostrils flared.

  Despite her lack of invitation, the older man kept trying to look down her top, and the younger guy leaned back to check out her ass. Bastards.

  But he’d expected no less. She looked amazingly hot while playing the innocent.

  Not good.

  Not good at all.

  Damn, maybe he liked the helpless female act more than he’d ever realized.

  For sure, he liked it on Arizona.

  After giving her a minute to sidle away from the men and enter the bar, he drove up the block and around the corner to park. Later, when she called it quits for the night, they’d be able to leave together in his truck with no one the wiser.

  Even knowing Dare watched over her, Spencer found it difficult to hold back, to give her time to get settled in the bar. With awful scenarios prominent in his mind, he locked up and strode along the sidewalk quietly, constantly scanning the area for any nosy onlookers.

  He saw none.

  Flickering white neon lights, shaped like a goose, wrapped around the words GREEN GOOSE. Beneath that, red neon spelled BAR AND GRILL, though no one would mistake the priorities of the establishment. Thick bars secured the windows, but given the area, it looked like the norm.

  Above the door, a lighted banner said, EAT, DRINK, RELAX, and another sign advertised, WOMEN, WOMEN, WOMEN! with the shapely silhouette of a busty figure beside it. Combined, the lights sent a fuzzy glow into the dark night, barely illuminating the hulking shape of an empty building on the opposite side of an alley. Beside that was a gas station. To the other side of the bar was a mom-and-pop convenience store, now closed, and beyond that, a tattoo parlor, also closed for the night.

  All in all, it was an ominous, dreary, run-down area.

  As Spencer approached the entrance, several women eyed him, smiling with invitation while advertising their wares.

  Hookers, he decided.

  Working for the bar owner? Probably. He smiled back—and walked past them into loud music and disorienting strobe lights. It took his eyes a moment to adjust.