by Sandra Owens
Rand leaned against the bar after Spider walked away, his gaze scanning the room, looking for trouble stirring. He’d learned early on that it was best to put a stop to anything brewing before it boiled over into an all-out brawl.
“She was asking about the previous owners,” Josh said, sidling up next to him.
“Who?”
“The gorgeous woman who came in a few minutes ago.”
Rand slid his gaze to her. She and her friend were heading for the door. Why would she be asking about the Gentrys? “Follow them, find out where they live.”
After Josh returned with two addresses—and why did it please Rand that the couple didn’t live together?—it only took a few minutes to have a background report on both of them. Aiden Calloway had one arrest for disorderly conduct, but the charges had been dropped against him and the other fraternity pledges for cavorting naked in a hotel’s fountain.
Kinsey Landon had also graduated from the University of Miami at the same time as her friend and now worked as a buyer for Summer Fashions. She’d been raised by a single mother in Jacksonville, Florida. From all appearances, the two had lived a quiet, simple life. Her mother had died last year. Almost twenty-four, Kinsey lived by herself in a ground-floor apartment on the edge of Coral Gables. Not the best neighborhood but not the worst.
She’d qualified for a partial scholarship—enough to cover her textbooks, but probably not much more than that—and had worked part-time at Summer Fashions until she’d graduated and had been offered the job of junior buyer. She didn’t have a record, not even one parking ticket. What she did have was a mountain of student loans to pay off.
“Exactly what did she want to know about the Gentrys?” he asked Josh. Anytime someone was nosy about a federal agent or three, it was wise to pay attention. Especially where the brothers were concerned because of their former undercover work. Even if it was someone as seemingly innocent as Kinsey Landon.
“She wanted to know if the owners were around, and when I told her I was one of the owners, she asked my name. When I told her it was Josh Sheridan, she seemed surprised. Then she asked if I knew anyone with the last name of Gentry. I almost told her no. Then I realized all she had to do was ask just about any of our customers to get a yes. So I told her they used to own the bar but had sold it to me and my partner.”
“Anything else?”
“The guy dropped her off at her apartment, didn’t go in. Then I followed him to his place. Why do you think she’d be asking about the brothers?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“We should tell them.”
Rand thought about it for a moment. “No. Don’t say anything yet. It’s probably nothing, in which case, she doesn’t need the brothers’ attention on her.”
“I know I wouldn’t want their attention on me,” Josh muttered. “She seemed nice, so maybe she just heard about them and wanted to see them for herself. They’re like a legend, you know.”
“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Rand smiled at the baby agent. He was still too trusting, but he’d learn. For now he’d prefer that Josh forgot about Kinsey Landon until Rand could get a handle on why she was asking about the Gentrys.
“Go keep an eye on the animals. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“On it, dude.”
After Josh closed the door behind him, Rand logged in to the security cameras, and when he found the sequence where Kinsey and Aiden entered, he watched it through several times. Something about it was nagging him. It was on his fourth time of viewing it that it hit him. They weren’t a couple, not in the sense that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Their hand-holding wasn’t natural, nor did she look at Aiden like a woman in love or on the way to love. Her friend was protective of her but more in a brotherly kind of way. That shouldn’t please him, because Olivia had taught him to avoid beautiful women like the plague.
Where the devil were her keys? Kinsey scanned her desktop where she usually dropped them when she arrived each morning. She scooted her chair back and looked around the floor. Nope, not there.
“Kinsey, the girls need some help out on the floor,” Corrie, her boss and the senior buyer, said. “We’re kicking ass with this sale.”
“Coming.” She’d have to look for her keys later. They had to be around here somewhere.
It was almost closing time, and she was still on the sales floor. There were only two women in the store now, both in the fitting rooms trying on clothes. Kinsey was tidying up around the register while the sales consultants refolded clothes and straightened racks. Corrie hadn’t been kidding. They’d killed it today with this buy-one-get-one-half-off sale. She groaned when Sebastian Summer sauntered in, a smirk on his face as he headed straight for her.
She tensed, gritting her teeth when he not so accidently brushed his hand across her butt when he stopped behind her. He’d been doing that more and more lately, and she could no longer ignore it, even if it meant losing her job.
She turned, pressing her back against the counter. “Do that one more time, and I’ll file a sexual harassment report.”
It was a weak threat, considering his father owned the five Summer Fashions stores scattered around Miami. Daddy turned a blind eye when it came to his only child. She loved her job as a junior buyer for the stores, had been thrilled that she’d found a position where she could put her degrees in fashion and business management to good use. Corrie had warned her of Sebastian’s roving hands, but Corrie’s advice on what to do about it pretty much sucked.
“Just let him have his fun. He’s harmless,” Corrie had said on Kinsey’s second day after Sebastian had pressed his elbow against her breast, letting it linger there.
Well, he might be harmless—although she had her doubts about that—but he wasn’t going to have his fun with her. “I’m not kidding, Sebastian,” she said when he smirked. “Touch me one more time and I’ll report you.”
He shrugged.
Yeah, that had been an empty threat. She could go to the labor board, or whichever government department she could file a harassment complaint with, but that would definitely make it impossible to stay at Summer Fashions. She doubted she could find another job as good as this one, but if Sebastian pushed her too far, she’d have no choice.
“So you and me, drinks tonight?”
The man was honest-to-God certifiable. After telling him she’d file a report on him, he had the nerve to think she’d go out drinking with him?
She waved a finger between them. “You and me, so not happening, tonight or any other night.” Asshole.
He smirked. “We’ll see.”
The bell over the door dinged, signifying that someone had entered the shop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man stop and say something to Shannon, one of the sales girls. Then he headed her way. When she tried to step away to take care of the customer, Sebastian grabbed her arm, digging his fingers into her skin. “You like your job here?”
“Very much, and because I do—”
“Can you help me pick out a gift for my mother? Today’s her birthday, and I want to get her something nice.”
Kinsey looked into the face of the man from Aces & Eights… the drop-dead gorgeous one. She didn’t believe in coincidences, didn’t believe he’d randomly walked into the one store in Miami where she worked.
He slid his gaze to Sebastian, then down to the fingers still digging into her skin, his eyes going cold. “You’re going to leave bruises on her arm, man.”
Sebastian took his time letting go. “We’ll talk later, doll.” He gave her his signature smirk before walking through the doorway to where their offices were located.
“He a problem?”
What did he care? “He’s the boss’s son. He’s allowed to be a problem.”
“Makes for a sticky situation then.”
Truth. “Are you really looking for a present for your mother, man from Aces and Eights?”
A wide smile appeared on his face, one that reached
his blue eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. “Ah, so you remember me.”
“Vaguely.” Ha! Like she could forget. Their eyes meeting across the room at the bar had been right out of a romantic movie, the kind of moment where it felt like time stopped. Well, for her, anyway. She doubted he’d thought twice about her after she was out of his sight. She’d sure thought of him, though. More than she’d liked. Her hands itched to muss up his golden-blond hair, and she wanted to press her fingers against the sinewy muscles that his bar T-shirt had failed to hide.
One thing she’d noticed was that he was clean-shaven, unlike the scruffy faces of the men she’d seen in the bar. It was a look that totally worked for him. His features were both elegant and strong. And those lips… full and sensual, a mouth made for kissing.
There were other things that seemed different from the hard-core bikers. She was an expert on clothes, and his were expensive. And then there was the Breitling watch. Although not flashy, the price tag would have been way out of her league. Who was this man who hung out in biker bars but looked and dressed like a GQ model?
“Rand Stevens,” he said, holding out his hand.
She stared at that hand, afraid that if she touched it, she would combust or something just as messy. “Um, Kinsey.” Not wanting to be rude, she put her hand in the one he still held out. And whoa! Delicious tingles raced merrily up her arm. His eyes widened as if he felt them, too. Time had a way of stopping around this man, and that unsettled her.
“So, your mother?” She tugged her hand free.
“Yes, Kinsey, I really do need a present for my mother.” He glanced around the store. “I was actually headed for Galleria but saw a beautiful scarf in your display window that would be perfect for her.”
So he hadn’t known she worked here. That was a relief since it meant he wasn’t stalking her. “I know the one you’re talking about. It’s an original, hand-painted by a local artisan. It’s pretty expensive,” she said, not wanting him to be embarrassed when he saw the price.
He grinned. “Only the best for Mom.”
Okay, silly her. If he could afford a Breitling watch, a mere scarf costing a few hundred was obviously no big deal. “I’ll get it for you.” She could feel his gaze on her back as she walked to the display window, and it unnerved her in a good kind of way. Her back heated as if a fire burned in his eyes, and her legs suddenly felt as wobbly as a baby’s when learning to walk. Don’t trip. Don’t trip. Don’t trip.
She managed to retrieve the scarf and return without falling on her face, a true miracle. Maybe she should start wearing flats from now on for when hot men wandered into the store to buy presents for their mothers, since that was apparently a lethal combination.
“Do you want it gift wrapped?” And just listen to her voice getting all husky. It was embarrassing.
“If it isn’t a bother, Kinsey.”
She wished he wouldn’t say her name in that panty-melting way. He followed her over to the gift-wrap station.
“Fate is at work here.”
“How so?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, her fingers getting tangled up in tape at seeing the way he was looking at her. As if he wanted to eat her up. Well, that was only fair. She very much wanted to devour him. Wanting to be naughty with a man she’d just met wasn’t her… well, it never had been before now.
“Seeing that scarf in the window and detouring into this store. Finding you here. I’ve thought about you a lot since the night you walked into the bar. Go out with me, Kinsey. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, drinks, or just for coffee. Take your pick.”
“I don’t date bikers.” She might make an exception for him, though.
“I’ve never been on a bike in my life. Those things scare the hell out of me.”
She taped a bow onto the wrapped box. “Then what were you doing at a biker bar?”
“I’m one of the owners.”
That got her attention. “You don’t think that’s weird? Owning a biker bar when you’re afraid of motorcycles?” Would he know her brothers?
Amusement lit his eyes. “Very much so.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Go out with me, and I’ll tell you how that came about.”
“Are you a serial killer?”
“That would be a no.”
“Okay. Lunch. I’m off on Sundays and Mondays. And I’ll meet you wherever you pick.” She wouldn’t pass up a chance to find out if he knew her brothers, but it was more than that. All this man had to do was look at her with those blue eyes and she was ready to agree to anything he asked.
“Sunday. You have your phone on you?”
She pulled it out of her jacket pocket. He gave her his phone number, and after she’d put it in her contacts, he said, “Now call me so I’ll have yours.”
Numbers exchanged, she headed to the register. “See you Sunday,” she said after he paid.
“I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”
Heavens, his smile was lethal. She waited until he walked out before saying, “Me, too.”
When she finally returned to her cubicle, dog-tired and wishing she was already soaking in the bubble bath on her agenda for tonight, she saw the tip of her keys sticking out from under a folder. She frowned. How had she missed seeing them there?
3
“If it isn’t three of the ugliest brothers to walk the land,” Rand said upon entering the field office’s conference room and seeing Nate, Court, and Alex Gentry sitting at the table.
Alex snorted. “You just wish you had half our good looks, dude.”
“And that’s another thing.” He slid into the seat next to Court. “All three of you are on my shit list for teaching Josh that word. If he calls me ‘dude’ one more time, I’m going to duct tape his mouth shut.”
That got a full-bellied laugh from Alex, a laugh from Court, and a chuckle from Nate, which about summed up the personalities of the brothers. Alex saw the fun in everything, Court sometimes did, and Nate rarely. Rand did have to concede that since Nate had finally gotten out of his own way and admitted that he loved Taylor Collins—one of their fellow agents—the man actually smiled these days.
“Dudes! Sorry I’m late,” Josh said, almost tripping over his own feet as he rushed in.
Rand coughed down a laugh, but Alex didn’t even try. Both Nate and Court chuckled, amusement in their eyes as they watched Josh scramble for a seat.
He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What’d I miss, a good joke?”
“Dude,” Alex said, his lips still twitching, “we were just talking about all the ways to use duct tape.”
Rand groaned. “Let’s get this meeting started.” Before Alex decided it would be fun to tell Josh one of those uses.
They spent an hour discussing what they knew so far on the Hot Shots, which wasn’t much. Mostly just rumors that they were dealing in stolen weapons. They were a new club at Aces & Eights, one the Gentrys hadn’t dealt with during their time at the bar. After giving Josh the approval to dig deeper, Nate ended the meeting but told Rand to stay behind.
“You aren’t comfortable at Aces and Eights, are you?”
With any other boss Rand would have assured him otherwise, but with Nate he knew he could be honest without repercussions. “It’s not so much that I’m uncomfortable as that I don’t fit in. The bikers are never going to warm up to me.”
Nate leaned back in his chair and tapped his finger on his lips. “The problem is that you’re not meant to work undercover.”
“Or this is just the wrong undercover job for me.”
“The thing is, a good undercover cop or agent can fit into whatever the operation is, and most of those involve the seedy side of life. You don’t know what to do with the dark side.”
So he was a disappointment. “I… I’m—”
Nate waved a hand at him. “There’s no reason to apologize. You’re a damn good agent. We just need to get you back to doing what you do best. I’m working on get
ting someone transferred to this office to take your place at the bar, but until that happens, you’re going to have to stick it out. Someone needs to keep an eye on Josh.”
“You know I will.” The relief that coursed through Rand surprised him. Until now he hadn’t admitted, even to himself, how unhappy he was with his assignment. “Josh is doing a great job. He just needs to settle down a little.”
“I know. While I appreciate his enthusiasm, his eagerness to prove himself could get him in trouble.”
That was true, and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to the kid. “He’ll settle down soon enough. Anything else?”
“No. I think we’ve covered everything.”
He almost told Nate about Kinsey Landon but decided to hold off. The more he learned about her, the harder it was to see her as a threat. It was true what he’d told Josh. Having any of the Gentrys’ attention on you was the last thing you’d want.
Until and unless she proved otherwise, he’d consider her innocent of any harmful intentions. He swallowed his discomfort for misleading her, although he’d mostly told her the truth. The scarf had been a birthday present for his mother. He just hadn’t mentioned said birthday was three months away. And he had been thinking of her since the night he’d first seen her, even though he hadn’t wanted to.
As Rand drove home to change into jeans and a T-shirt before heading to Aces & Eights, he thought about what Nate had said. It was true. He didn’t know how to act around the people who frequented Aces & Eights. Until he’d become an FBI agent, the dark side of life hadn’t touched him. And he didn’t include losing his daughter in that. That hadn’t been the kind of dark that Nate was talking about.
From the day he’d been born, Rand had the best. The best clothes, the best schools, meals cooked by a world-class chef. His first car had been a BMW—given to him as soon as he was licensed to drive—and his friends had all been like him. Privileged.
Was he grateful that he hadn’t known hunger or had to worry if he would have a place to sleep at night? Hell, yes. Did he feel guilt that he was privileged by birth? Yeah, he did. His first glimpse of how it would be to wonder if he’d have enough money to even buy a cheap hamburger had been in his first year at Yale. His roommate had attended on a full scholarship, a boy with a brilliant mind.