by Mandy Harbin
She deserved better than the likes of him.
Xan passed by the Sheppard’s Garage wrecker on her way back home Saturday morning after grocery shopping. She saw the long, blond hair and sunglasses concealing those deep-blue eyes she knew all too well. Yet, Brody didn’t even so much as look at her when she waved at him.
Her Viking was avoiding her.
She had half a mind to whip this old Pinto around and follow him, demand some answers. They were not an item, but they’d been intimate, and now he was just brushing her off? That didn’t make sense.
Unless Brody really was part of the FBI team watching over her, and Jack tipped him off about her suspicions regarding him. Wouldn’t that just suck? It wasn’t as if Jack owed her any loyalty. He was on the job, and if Brody was tasked with watching over her, then he was on the job too. If she was both of their assignment, then they had an obligation to share notes.
Oh Jesus, she hoped those notes didn’t include how she liked to scream when Brody was pounding away inside her. She felt her face flush at the thought of him sitting around, talking about the intimate details of their lives.
But even if Brody was an agent—and that was a big if—he was also a man. She’d already deduced that if he stuck to her like glue because she was a job, he wasn’t wearing his FBI hat in the sack. That was purely the man, not the agent, or hired help of her agent, whatever the case may be. But she’d like to know.
Boy, would she like to know.
And maybe he wasn’t sticking to her like glue now because he didn’t have anything to do with her case. Maybe he’d just gotten his fill of her. Ugh, the man was infuriating.
Resisting the urge to follow, she turned down her street and parked her car. She carried in and put away the frozen foods first, then came back out for the canned goods. She noticed Roxie supervising Chad putting a spare tire on her car.
“Hey,” Xan called as she started to grab the last bag.
“Hi, girl. Come on over.” Roxie motioned for her to join them, so Xan left the lone bag in her car and headed across the street.
“What happened? You get a flat?” As if that wasn’t obvious.
“Yeah,” Roxie sighed. “Chad’s changin’ it now. Don’t know what happened. I guess I hit some glass last night or something coming from the game ’cause it was plumb flat this mornin’.”
“No telling. At least you didn’t get stranded somewhere.”
“No lie. I’m glad Chad was here this mornin’ to fix it. So, whatcha been out doin’?
“Shopping.”
“All done, Mom. You should head over to Sheppard’s and get them to replace it. You don’t need to be drivin’ around on this donut.”
“Yes, son,” Roxie said, chuckling, then turned to Xan. “Wanna come? I could use some girl talk.”
Xan stiffened at the idea of running into Brody. He’d been avoiding her, and the last thing she wanted to do was go crawling around him like some stray dog, begging for attention. “I-I don’t think—”
“Oh, c’mon now. Please? I don’t wanna sit up there all by my lonesome. They don’t even have a TV in the waitin’ room.”
Well, Brody did leave in the wrecker, so he should be gone a while. That thought gave her the encouragement she needed to say yes. She didn’t mind going if she didn’t have to face him and the humiliation of an in-person rejection. “Sure. Just let me get the last of my bags in.”
“Goodie!” Roxie clapped her hands and Xan shook her head with a smile as she walked across the street back to her car. She grabbed the last of the bags, shut the hatchback, and carried it inside. She yelled to Scott that she was going with Roxie to get her tire fixed and headed back outside. Roxie was already in her driveway.
Xan climbed into the car and turned down the awful country music.
“What’s goin’ on with Brutus? He still avoiding you?”
They’d just had this conversation last night at the boys’ football game. “Nothing’s changed since last night, Roxie.”
“Well, I’ve been thinkin’ about your little predicament,” Roxie said as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “That night we went out, you told me about people watchin’ you. Maybe he knows something about that?”
Hmm. That was what Xan wondered too, but why would Roxie consider that a possibility. “I don’t know who it could be. Why do you say that?”
“Because he always kept to himself, except when he banged some bimbo, but even then he tended to go out of town to pick up some chicks. Then you come to town, and he’s on you like bees to a daffodil.”
Xan smiled. “Maybe he’s just trying to pollinate me.”
Roxie giggled. “I know, right? Men. Always thinking with their peckers.” She waved her hand and turned up the air conditioner even though they were about to pull into the garage. “It’s already September, you’d think it’d cool down already. Anyway, what I’m sayin’ is that maybe he has a reason for, um, for—”
“Fucking me?” Xan prompted, and Roxie blushed. “Honestly? I thought about that, but I can’t be sure. It doesn’t really matter now since he’s treating me like some diseased outcast.”
“Oh, hush up. He is not. He’s a man. Didn’t I just say that men think with their wee-wees? You just need to speak a language he understands,” Roxie said as she turned off her car in front of the empty bay.
They both got out and entered the lobby. Colonel walked over, wiping his hands on a grease cloth. “Hello, ladies. How can I help you?”
“Hey there, Colonel. My tire’s flat. Chad changed it and threw it in the trunk. Can you fix it for me?” She handed him her keys. Xan didn’t miss her glancing at the bays, probably seeking out Bear. Except for the one time Roxie had confessed what happened, she never spoke of him, but knowing the truth, Xan could see the hurt in Roxie’s eyes.
“Sure thing. It may be a while. We’re shorthanded at the moment.”
“That’s okay. We’ll wait.”
Xan followed Roxie to the couch and sat beside her, figuring she shouldn’t bring up Bear and instead thinking about the last thing Roxie had said before getting out of the car. “What do you mean I need to speak his language? He’s a man, not an alien.”
Roxie leaned back, crossing her arms over her perfect body and raising an eyebrow at her. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”
“Umm, a week?” Xan shrugged innocently, knowing that wasn’t the answer Roxie was looking for.
“I don’t mean with Brutus, you dork. I mean before him.”
“A while.” She was not going to be specific. Oh hell no.
“Okay, look. Maybe you’re just out of practice then. I do know you’re under some kind of protection—”
“Shhhh.” Xan swatted Roxie’s shoulder. Jesus, why didn’t she just take out a dang ad in the paper? Xan Bradley, prude, is on the run from her ex-husband, Marco Collins.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “Any-hoo, I think maybe you haven’t had too many opportunities to keep from getting rusty.”
Lord have mercy. Xan needed to find the exit to get off this horror ride right now. “Get to the point.”
“Seduce him.” Roxie smiled crookedly at Xan.
“Seduce him? How?” They’d already had sex. If she threw herself at him and he turned her down, she wouldn’t even take the time to go find a hole to crawl in because that’d take too long. Nope, she’d just dig one where she stood.
“Remember the night at the club? You went out and bought a kick-ass outfit, and he couldn’t keep his hands off you.”
“I can’t afford to run out and buy something sexy every time I want to get him into bed. Besides, if he doesn’t want me for me, then I’m not interested.” Her vagina was calling foul on that.
“Oh, honey. You don’t have to do that every time. Just every now and then to remind him what he’s missing. Besides, I wasn’t really talkin’ about outer clothes. I was thinking more along the lines of lingerie.” She wagged her eyebrows, biting her lower lip.
>
“Good grief. How in the world would he see me in that if I can’t get him alone? I’ve only seen him on the road a few times. I can’t exactly drive around in a teddy.”
“Invite him over—”
“No.” Xan was already shaking her head.
“Scott can stay the night with—”
“Uh-uh.”
“Chad. And you can have the house all to—”
“No way.”
“Yourself. Why? You can’t tell me you’re chicken? Bwok, bwok.” She put her hands in her armpits and started flapping her arms. “Bwok, bwok!”
“Shut up,” Xan hissed, grabbing one of her arms before Roxie stood and did the damn chicken dance in the middle of the garage lobby.
Roxie giggled as she relaxed back into her seat. “C’mon. Give it some thought. It’s not like either of you are goin’ anywhere. Mark my words. You wear the right thing, and you’ll have him eatin’ right out of your hands, girl. Besides, you could use a little some-some.”
Xan sighed and started to say something when the door to the lobby opened. She turned and stared right into her Viking’s dark-blue eyes. His sunglasses were resting on his head, sweat trickling down his brow. Damn, she wanted to get up and lick it off his body. But knowing that was a really bad idea no matter how much her vagina was seconding it, she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from him.
And he just stood there, staring back, his eyes dilating so quickly the blue bled to black before her eyes, the heat in them unmistakable. Oh yeah, he wanted her, so why was he resisting?
But as he stood there, the passion in his gaze shifted to sadness, and then something dark, almost devastating. He swallowed a few times, licked his lips, then looked at his feet and rubbed his nape under the hair tie, mussing the sweaty strands that clung to his neck.
“Everything all right with your car?”
It was obvious he was speaking to Xan, but the fact that he looked away from her hurt. She tamped down that unfamiliar feeling and cleared her throat. “Yeah. Roxie had a flat, and she wanted me to keep her company while it was fixed.”
He nodded and looked up—at Roxie. “You’ve been waitin’ long?”
“Not too long.” She shrugged.
“Um, I’ll go see if anyone’s started on it. If not, I’ll take care of it.”
And then he left the lobby without another glance at Xan.
“Hmmm. That boy is fightin’ some major demons. Did you see that face? Bless his heart. I don’t think it’s anything you did, honey. I think you need to comfort him. And the best way to do that is to wrap your pussy around his cock,” she whispered.
“Roxie!” Sheesh. “He hardly looked at me. Kinda hard to offer comfort when someone is avoiding you.”
“Oh, now don’t be a sourpuss. You know what they say—you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar.”
Xan took a deep breath. Maybe she really did need Roxie’s advice. At the least, she needed to get Brody to talk to her about his change of heart. “Fine,” she relented. “How do you propose I do that?”
“Easy. Douse yourself in honey and go catch that fly. Let him spend all night licking it off your body.”
If only it was that easy.
Chapter Sixteen
Brody watched as Roxie and Xan pulled out of the garage, a heavy feeling in his chest. He’d busted ass to get a new tire on Roxie’s wheel, get her tires balanced, and get them the hell out of here. God, he’d missed Xan like crazy, and seeing her was like pouring a pound of salt on an open wound, one he’d created himself by denying any contact with her.
One he’d created years ago by killing her daughter.
That was still a bitter pill to swallow, but he had no other choice than to face the facts. It was the only conclusion that made sense because the only memories he had of her was when she’d been all dolled up, and from Gauge’s, Blade’s, and Brody’s research, the only time in her life when she’d dressed in designer clothes like that was when she was married to Collins. Add that to the fact Brody had been in some mysterious accident that by all accounts should’ve left him for dead, rather than with a case of amnesia, that could’ve happened around the time of Xan’s marriage to Collins—it really didn’t bode well for Brody. Collins could’ve tried to ice him after he killed the baby to cover it up. He tried every angle to refute those possibilities and came up horribly short. And disappointed.
And utterly devastated.
He’d been a wreck this past week, growling around the garage like a lion with a sore paw. And the truth was he was a man with an aching heart. He couldn’t deny his feelings for Xan anymore. He was in love with her. And he’d fucking destroyed her life. He didn’t deserve to be in the same room with her, much less buried in her body. Hell, he didn’t even deserve to fantasize about her. His ass should be locked up on death row, if not already gassed.
He hadn’t allowed himself to look at her even when he was keeping an eye on her place. He’d seen her car in the driveway and knew she was home, but he kept to the shadows and watched for any signs of unfriendly activity at night, and made sweeps of her house during the day while she was at work and Scott was at school. And he thought just being in her house was the worst form of torture. Hell, seeing all the places he’d touched her body and smelling her lingering vanilla scent was bad. But seeing her just now? That was pure agony.
He hoped it’d get better as time went on, but being forced to see her today proved that wasn’t possible. He obviously couldn’t remember for sure if he’d ever been in love before, but he knew he hadn’t been since losing his memory. Until now.
He’d spent these years seeking sexual release with willing women and without emotional attachments, not because he was afraid of falling in love, but because he didn’t know how to be in love with someone. And he still didn’t know how to accept it, deal with it.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t deserve to be in the same room with her, so he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be in a relationship with her. As he thought about her, he knew he’d never love another woman again. She was the only woman fully suited for him, but he wasn’t suited for her. So now he had to learn how to live life without the one woman his heart demanded. If he was man enough, he’d confess to her what he’d done.
But something like that needed to be discussed in person, and he knew if he was alone with her, his cock would overrule all rational thought. To touch her would be succumbing to the darkest sin, one there was no redemption for. He was already damned, and he’d do his best to keep from dragging her with him.
So he was doomed to live a life of hell, knowing he hurt the woman he loved. It didn’t matter that it happened before he fell in love with her. He was a monster, and he couldn’t change his past no matter how much he wished it.
Colonel dropped some lug nuts and cursed, yanking Brody out of his depressing thoughts, though he knew he’d never truly escape them, only be granted brief reprieves.
“Where the fuck is Gauge? That little shit knows better than to take off on a Saturday. His ass is the lowest on this totem pole. He should be working overtime to ensure he stays welcome at this job.” Colonel grumbled as he picked up the items he’d dropped.
“He’ll be in later,” Brody said, stepping over to help Colonel. He didn’t want to tell his boss where Gauge was—in Prairie County, Arkansas, doing some digging on Dave Simmons.
“Colonel’s right, that punk is new, so if anybody gets a Saturday off, it shouldn’t be him,” Roc said from across the shop.
It’d been a week since Brody found out about Roc feeding innuendo to Xan about Mimi, and he’d been avoiding him because Brody knew he’d knock out that jackass if given the opportunity. But keeping his distance didn’t help him to keep his mouth shut. Brody knew he’d been snapping at Roc all week, but Colonel acted sympathetic, probably figuring that Brody’s mood was specific to the baby-killing news and not something personal, so he hadn’t chided him over it.
“He’s been here for two f
ucking years, asshole. We all get days off now and then,” Brody growled.
Roc slammed down his wrench and pointed his finger at Brody from over the car he was working on. “I wasn’t talkin’ to you, motherfucker. You can back off my ass any time now. I’m sick of your shit. I ain’t done nothin’ to you!”
That was it. Brody shoved off the ground and stormed over to Roc. “You haven’t done anything to me? You haven’t done anything to me? Is that right?” Brody reached the black-haired jerk, grabbed a handful of his shirt and pushed him into the side of the car. “How the fuck do you explain Mimi?” Brody yelled in his face.
Roc blanched briefly, then narrowed his green eyes. He put his hands against Brody’s chest and shoved, but Brody was much bigger, and so pissed he couldn’t be moved.
“Get off! I didn’t do anything to Mimi.”
“I’m talking about what you said to Xan about her. Your punk-ass practically told her I was fucking Mimi!”
All work in the shop stopped and a couple of the guys gasped. “Dude, that ain’t right,” Hunter said.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Bear shook his head as he headed over to break up the impending fight. “She’s like our den mother. Brings us cookies and shit.”
“He likes stirring up trouble, that’s what,” Blade muttered.
“I never said you were doing Mimi,” Roc spat. “I told her you were over at Mimi’s house and had been there all morning. It ain’t my fault she assumed the worst.”
“You lyin’ sack of shit!” Brody’s fist connected with Roc’s face once, twice, before Bear threw his arms around him to pull him away.
He wasn’t strong enough, so Hunter and Blade jumped in to help. The three were finally able to peel Brody off Roc.
“It ain’t my fault you’re sweet on her pussy,” Roc yelled as he threw a punch. Brody blocked it, but not before it made contact with his jaw and slid away.
Getting sucker punched by a prick who was bad-mouthing Xan made Brody’s blood boil even hotter. He roared and dragged the three men holding him back in Roc’s direction and hit him again.
