Slow Ride

by Lori Foster

  Amused, Jack said, “I’ll take what I can get.” Close enough to ensure her safety, he listened while Ronnie handled the deal.

  “Let me have the bag.” She reached for it, but the weasel held it away.

  “Not until I get my payment.”

  Ronnie moved so quickly, it surprised even Jack. She snatched away the bag before the crude bastard could counter her. “You’ll get paid when and if I confirm the items.” She looked inside, wrinkled her nose, and closed it again.

  “Carcasses?” Jack asked, disliking that word more and more.

  “Yes, both of them, I think.”

  “Both?”

  “A two-headed snake, and a one-eyed rat. Just as we agreed.” The man took a step back as Ronnie’s furious gaze drilled through him. “I didn’t kill ’em,” he said quickly. “That’s exactly how I found ’em!”

  Jack placed a hand on her shoulder. “Peanut is waiting.”

  A sound something like a snarl whispered from her, then she shoved the bag at him. “I didn’t name the cat that. She’s just as small as a peanut.” From her big satchel she withdrew the payment and shoved it at the man, not waiting for his hands to open before she dropped it. Bills fluttered to the ground, and greed bent his knees as he hurried to collect it.

  Still touching her, something he wouldn’t mind doing more often, Jack steered her toward the car. When she didn’t shrug him away, he lowered his hand to the small of her back. His pinkie finger grazed bare skin above the waistband of her jeans.

  It shouldn’t have been a big deal. Yes, her skin felt incredibly silky, warm to the touch. At thirty-two, he’d touched enough women that something so simple shouldn’t have felt like foreplay.

  But this did.

  Given what he carried in the bag and the fact that Ronnie still sizzled very close to violence, it was crazy for him to be thinking along those lines. He couldn’t gauge whether or not she might suddenly explode.

  It wouldn’t surprise him if she did.

  And yet, he noticed other things, like the softness of her skin. Around her, he couldn’t seem to keep intimate thoughts at bay.

  Veering around to the trunk, he asked, “Care to explain?”

  Her hand swatted the air, but her annoyance remained in the way she crossed her arms and how she dropped a hip to rest against the side of the car. “He had a neighbor as fucked up as him. The dude thought demons were after him when he found the two-headed snake first, and then later the one-eyed rat. It didn’t help that he was always high on something. Eventually he overdosed.”

  Would the brothers have sent her out to this remote location alone if he hadn’t taken the job? The idea unsettled him, but also gave him ammunition for convincing her that he was an asset, not a liability.

  After all, how would she have gotten Peanut without him?

  Refusing to think of what could have happened to her, Jack asked, “So how did our weasel come by them?”

  “There’s a shed where he stored stuff.” Her chin tucked down but her gaze stayed glue to the man now counting his money. “Behind his trailer, between the two properties. I guess our marksman here grabbed them to sell.”

  “What the hell would possess a man, even a louse like him, to steal dead animal bodies?”

  Tension gathered, and Ronnie cracked her neck to the side. It was such a guy thing to do, Jack marveled.

  With admiration.

  “Guess he knew they’d be worth a few bucks. He offered them up, the brothers wanted them, and here we are.”

  Closing the trunk, Jack sealed the purchase inside. Out of sight, but not out of mind.

  “I need my gun back.”

  Jack turned to consider the creep, standing there in his dirty clothes, money clutched in his sweaty hand, his existence utterly grim. A human who took pleasure in being inhumane.

  He said to Ronnie, “Go ahead and get in the car. I’ll be right back.”

  Her brows lifted. “Will you hit him?”

  “No.” Jack strode to the man, closing the distance even when the miserable bastard backed up. He pulled out the gun, but held it out of reach. “It’s yours, so I’ll return it. But the very first thing I’m going to do once we’re out of here is report you for animal cruelty. You better not torment anything, not even a mosquito. Do you understand?” He shoved the gun to the man’s chest. “We have your name. Your address. And you better believe, if animal control doesn’t do anything, I will.”

  The man nodded and Jack turned away. The sooner he made good on that promise, the better he’d feel.

  To his surprise, Ronnie had done as he’d asked and was in the car, likely just to talk to the cat, but still...

  She grinned as he got behind the wheel and turned the key.

  Far as Jack was concerned, they couldn’t get out of there quick enough. But when they reached the main road, he pulled over to the curb.

  Drawing her attention off the cat, Ronnie looked around. “What are you doing?”

  “This.” He unbuttoned his shirt, one button, two, three.

  She watched the movement of his fingers, her attention ripe. “Er...why?”

  It sounded ridiculous, even to him, but she deserved the truth. “Seeing you like this—” he nodded at her bare arms and shoulders, the expanse of chest, the hint of cleavage...hell even her collarbone “—is making it difficult for me to keep my hands off you.” He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and offered it to her.

  Sitting a little straighter, she scowled. “Well, thanks a lot! Am I supposed to be immune to that?” Her gaze moved hungrily over his upper body, making him feel naked even though he wore an undershirt and pants. “Because news flash, Jack, I’m not.”

  They stared at one another, a clash of wills, until the kitten mewled.

  “We need to get Peanut a water dish and some food. Since I have to drive, me ogling you isn’t a great idea.” It was the soundest logic he could come up with under the circumstances—the circumstances being a semi-erection, a half-starved feral kitten in the back seat, a lunatic collector of freakish corpses behind them, and a long drive ahead.

  “Fine.” Lacking graciousness, she stabbed her arms into the sleeves and pulled the shirt closed around her. “I was cold anyway.”

  It felt like his hair stood on end. He put the car back in gear and drove away. “Why the hell didn’t you say so?”

  Shrugging, she pulled the collar toward her nose and breathed in. “Smells good.” She gazed at him through lowered lashes, a smile playing on her lips. “Like you.”

  God, such a tease. He liked the idea of his scent being all over her. He liked that she liked it, too. “Damn.” To make good on his promise, he requested that she report the goon while he drove.

  Ronnie looked up the number, called, and gave a calm, detailed report of the man. Neither of them were surprised that he’d been in trouble before. He’d be checked on routinely after that. There wasn’t much more either of them could do.

  Ronnie had no sooner finished that call when her cell phone vibrated again.

  “Sorry.” She glanced at the screen and groaned. “It’s the brothers.”

  “Which one?”

  “Both.” She accepted the call. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

  Jack held silent, listening as the kitten rustled around in the cage and as Ronnie shifted in her seat.

  “Okay, just a sec.” She covered the phone. “Drake wants it on speaker.” She lifted the phone, touched the screen, and said, “Go on, Drake.”

  “Mr. Crews,” came an eerily disembodied voice.

  Jack had no idea which brother spoke, so he said only, “Mr. Dolby. Something I can help you with?”

  “As a matter of fact, there’s something you can both do. We felt like we should only have to say this once, so we hope you’re both listening.”

  Up to that poi
nt, only one man spoke, not two, so the whole we thing was weird. “Sir?”

  “Do you two think you could conduct one exchange without infuriating someone?”

  Ronnie said, “Hey, neither time was our fault.”

  “And do you think,” said another male voice, apparently the other brother, though Jack didn’t know if it was Drake or Drew, “that you could refrain from threatening sellers?”

  Deadpan, the other one added, “It’s bad for business.”

  “And gives us an unnecessary reputation.”

  Jack glanced at Ronnie, unsure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to get her in trouble with her bosses.

  That imminent explosion he’d predicted earlier detonated.

  “You,” she accused, “are the ones who sent us to pick up dead animals from a fucking asshole who gets his rocks off by tormenting kittens.”

  “Animals? It should be a snake and a rat.”

  “Animals,” she stressed again. “And you are the ones who told me to make sure I got the goods no matter what.”

  “Now, Ronnie—”

  The tenor of her voice lowered even as the volume got louder until she almost sounded demonic in her rage. “Well, I have your rotted creatures, and I’ll gladly hold on to them until you return, but don’t you ever expect me to turn a blind eye to animal abuse, because that’s not happening!”

  Dumbfounded and doing his utmost not to grin, Jack kept his eyes glued to the road ahead, grateful that they hadn’t yet met any traffic. He didn’t dare look at Ronnie or he’d completely lose it.

  The silence stretched out until one of the brothers cleared his throat. “So... I’m glad we had this talk.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” she snapped.

  Jack had to flatten his mouth, hard. But the humor was bubbling up until it almost strangled him.

  “We have a few more deals in the works,” the other brother intoned in dramatic fashion, as if Ronnie hadn’t just chewed their asses. “Until then, your time is your own.”

  After she disconnected the call and literally threw the phone into her purse, Ronnie turned on him. “Just what do you think is so damned funny?”

  “You,” he choked, unable to hold back a second more.

  She poked him in the shoulder. “Knock it off.”

  “Can’t.” He tried, coughing and choking in his effort, but the hilarity broke free.

  She slugged his shoulder, then turned away in a huff. He continued to laugh for a good solid minute before he realized she was quiet. Too quiet.

  Ah hell. Had he insulted her? It occurred to him, belatedly, that Ronnie might have felt an affinity to the abused kitten. She, too, had been trapped, tormented with ill intentions, and then treated with disregard by the very people who should have protected her.

  Sympathy and understanding stomped the humor, and he got himself under control. “Ronnie?”

  Staring out the window, she gave a noncommittal “hmm?” She didn’t sound insulted, exactly. More like introspective.

  “You never cease to amaze me.”

  “Yeah?” Though her head rested against the seat back, she lazily turned to see him. “Me refusing to take shit is a big surprise?”

  “No, I just... I had the feeling you liked your job too much to risk it.”

  “Please. I like them more than I like the work. But where else would those two find someone as reliable as me to do their bizarre bidding?”

  Jack could just imagine the job description. “I see what you mean.”

  “I’m a catch and they know it.”

  “I’m glad that you know it, too.” Jack sensed the intensity of her gaze as it moved over him, stroking some places—like his shoulders—more than once.

  “I used to underestimate myself.” Her fingers drifted idly over her denim-covered thigh, toying with a worn patch. “I thought I needed certain things. Certain people.” Her voice had taken on a mellow note, as if the rage she’d expended left her relaxed. “Now I know I can get by on my own, that I can defend myself if I need to.”

  Not wanting to ruin the moment, Jack didn’t point out all the ways she could still be hurt if she wasn’t more careful. Instead he noted the positives, saying, “You’re strong. Self-assured.”

  She nodded. “Never again will I be a victim. Not for anyone.”

  A warning? Had she lowered her expectations to ensure no disappointments? He didn’t like that idea. “No one goes through life without getting hurt a little.” He tried a smile, but it didn’t feel too effective. “That’s called living.”

  No objection—but no agreement either.

  After a heavy silence, Ronnie studied a fingernail. “So.”

  Uh-oh. That tone sounded different. “So?”

  “You cracked a little back there.”

  Jack felt his shoulders tighten, his neck stiffen. “I don’t know what you mean.” He knew exactly what she meant.

  When he’d threatened the weasel, and enjoyed doing so, she’d stared at him in rapt fascination, as if she’d known exactly how he felt.

  “You cracked, and I liked it.” Satisfaction curved her mouth—a mouth he wanted to taste. “Much better than that freaking polite, nauseating niceness all the damn time.”

  We all have our defenses, honey. Though with Ronnie, he was constantly tempted to be himself. “I didn’t realize I was being nauseatingly nice.”

  “Yes, you did. You do it on purpose. I get bitchy and you counter it by acting like nothing could shake your manners. I didn’t mean it as a complaint. It’s just... I’m having fun.” She wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that strange?”

  Glad to divert her from talking about him, Jack said, “No, because I’m having fun, too.”

  Earnest, she half turned in the seat. His shirt swam around her, her fair hair in disarray, but she did look happy, and somehow it was sexy as hell. “I mean, we have a gross two-headed snake in the trunk, right?”

  “Very true.”

  “And that seller was seriously warped.”

  Jack still wanted to demolish him. “An abusive bastard.”

  “And the poor kitten is probably traumatized.” She glanced in the back seat, contentment lowering her voice. “But she’s sleeping now.”

  Just as quiet, he said, “I’m glad.”

  “Yet here we are. Still talking, even joking. And I feel good. I don’t understand it, and I feel a little guilty for it, but it’s true.”

  “Look at it this way. You did your job, you saved a sweet little animal, and you got to raise hell. That’s a good day in anyone’s book.”

  Ronnie grinned. “I guess you’re right. But my favorite part...”

  “Yes?”

  She rolled a shoulder, looking almost shy. “I think my favorite part is you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  NOT MUCH SCARED Jack Crews, she’d give him that. Not disgusting little men who sold weird critter bodies, and not bold, outspoken women who admitted to liking him a little too much.

  Or...maybe he hadn’t understood her meaning when she’d explained why the day was so enjoyable?

  He hadn’t replied to her comment other than to smile, and his smiles were so devastating, they made her want to throw off her clothes and straddle him. He was, by far, the most unique man she’d ever met.

  Was it any wonder she only now began to worry about his lack of response?

  Though she wasn’t an expert on these things, his smile seemed like acceptance, which was a damn sight better than horror, right?

  Right. But seriously, just once she’d like to rattle that infuriating, unshakable demeanor of his. He’d lost a bit of his polish when dealing with the creep. Witnessing that primitive side of him had left her mesmerized.

  What would it be like to see him totally cut loose?

  Finding ou
t in bed would be the most fun...but she’d stupidly ruled that out. At least to him, she had. Didn’t mean a woman couldn’t change her mind. She’d wait and see how the rest of the day played out.

  The past half hour of the drive they’d made a list of things the cat would need. Jack insisted on calling her Peanut, and by the time she’d looked up a pet supply shop and they’d driven slightly out of their way to it, the name stuck.

  Peanut had either worn herself out or she was too tired to continue her complaints, because she slept for the majority of the ride until Jack parked in the lot.

  After removing his seat belt, he turned to look in the back seat. “We don’t actually know how feral she might be. A domesticated kitten, under the circumstances where we found her, would probably act just as wild.”

  Even though he could be right, Ronnie wouldn’t chance it. “I don’t want to open her cage unless the doors are closed. If she got out, we could lose her forever.”

  “Agreed. Plus, I don’t want to unleash a wild cat in a car where we can’t avoid claws.” When he reached back toward the cage, the kitten cowered. “Poor baby,” he crooned. “You’ll feel better when you eat.”

  Ronnie sincerely hoped that was true. “How are we going to do this?”

  In the end, he carried the entire dirty container into the pet store. Customers stared at them like they were monsters, and no wonder with the kitten doing her Tasmanian devil impersonation. Jack held the cage securely, but still the kitten managed to rock it.

  It didn’t help that Ronnie still wore Jack’s shirt, too, which left him in an undershirt and slacks. Never mind that it was late October and chilly, he still looked mouth-wateringly good, and plenty of people noticed.

  Jack paused at a counter and explained the situation to a pretty female clerk who, with sympathy and admiration, offered them the use of a grooming room to move Peanut to a brand-new carrier.

  They lined it with a soft pad and fresh blanket, attached a food dish to the corner and filled it with soft canned food, then added a drip-style water bottle so the kitten could drink but the water wouldn’t spill. Before attempting to move her, Jack also purchased a litter box and litter, harness and leash, and a few toys. He didn’t buy any flea and tick meds because the kitten was so young; he said he’d feel better taking her to the vet first.