“If you and your twin have nothing better to do.”
He and his twin had a lot to do. But he couldn’t think of anything better than seeing Charlotte again.
And it scared the hell out of him.
Responding with a quick hint at which outfit he was hoping she’d wear, he slipped his phone onto the front seat and continued to watch the lot.
Three women exited the bus depot, two of them tight to Bo’s sides and the third a step behind the group, her expression hard and angry.
“Alex,” Bo called out, disentangling himself from the women and sauntering across the pavement. “Do we have room to drop these lovely ladies at their hotel?”
He shoved his hands into his back pockets as the group approached. “In a bit of a hurry, man,” he replied tersely. “Maybe another time.”
“Sorry, ladies, the boss has spoken.” Bo snorted, opening the hatch and tossing his bag in. He turned to nuzzle the neck of one of the women, holding out his hand as she whispered something into his ear and passed him her phone.
He looked away while Bo added a fake number to the woman’s cell, a move he himself was well rehearsed in. He flung his door open and got in. “All right. Let’s get going.”
With a feigned apologetic shrug, Bo strode around the SUV and got in, shaking his hair out as they pulled onto the street. “Holy fuck, Alex,” he groaned, snatching Alex’s ball cap from the dash and covering his face with it. “The redhead gave me the most painful, chafing hand job I’ve ever had just outside of Sacramento.” He adjusted himself and flopped back again. “Where’re we heading?”
“You’re crashing on my couch for a few days until the long weekend crowds leave,” he said, turning onto his street and slowing down.
Bo turned his head to the side and scanned the trailer park. “Any good meat around here?”
“The fridge’s full,” he muttered, pulling into his site and turning off the engine.
“Women, you fucking dumbass,” Bo grunted, swinging his legs out of the SUV and leaning forward on his knees for a moment. “Any doors I can go knocking on once my dick heals up?”
Alex gritted his teeth, unlocking his front door and flicking the air conditioner on. “Not around here,” he replied, his voice low. “It’s a quiet park. Got it?”
Bo pushed himself to his feet and slammed the SUV door, opening the hatch to grab his bag. “Yeah, yeah. No pissing in your own yard.” He looked across the chain link fence toward the road. “I need a run.”
Checking the time on his phone, he calculated Charlotte’s likely location in the park. “Fine. Toss your stuff here and we’ll drive over.”
*
Bo stood on the top of the ridge and scanned the terrain, the heaviness in his face lifted with the promise of a run. Alex tugged his socks off and shoved them into his backpack, watching while his brother pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the rocks behind him, scratching at Hades’s marker embedded into the chest of each of the hellhounds. He frowned as he took in the numerous bruises and gashes peppering Bo’s skin.
“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, stripping his own shirt off and balling it up.
“Just a little problem with debt repayment,” Bo called over. “I was so drunk I didn’t feel a thing. So you probably didn’t either.” He shoved his jeans down in one smooth movement, his transformation complete before his paws hit the ground.
Alex climbed the ridge and collected the discarded clothes, tossing them into his bag and adding the rest of his own. He dropped to all fours, his nose wrinkling as his enhanced senses were assaulted with the stench of diesel and coyote excrement. Bo padded over to him, nipping his shoulder and tearing across the stony landscape. Alex took off after him, steering his brother away from the more popular roads of the park as they chased each other through the sand and chollas.
I miss this.
The thought flashed through his head as Bo gained ground on him and leapt onto his back, sending both of them muzzle-down into the sand. While Bo shook the dirt from his fur, Alex scented the air and growled low, his head cocked toward a small cluster of bushes. Bo’s ears flattened down, his jowls holding a hint of a grin as he stalked toward the rabbit cowering under the brush. Alex took a wider arc around the animal, intent on blocking the creature’s escape should it notice Bo’s smooth approach.
As he reached striking distance, Bo froze, his ears lifting and head swinging toward a narrow path beneath the ridge. Alex crouched down, ignoring the rabbit as it ripped past his tail and beelined it over the horizon. A small ATV rounded the bend, its riders stopping abruptly as they caught sight of them. Bo rose up, the tilt of his head mimicking the cockiness he held in human form. When the riders doubled back down the path, he snorted and broke into a jog toward the path, ignoring Alex’s growled warnings. Deciding that staying tight to his brother was infinitely better than allowing him free rein in the park, he followed Bo, catching up and steering them away from the road that led to the Keys.
And Charlotte.
The slow descent of the sun cooled the desert sand a fraction, easing the discomfort on his paws while he and Bo explored the clusters of rocks and boulders that were scattered throughout the terrain. One run-in with a small rattlesnake under a pile of stones had tempered Bo’s curiosity, allowing Alex to guide their explorations through the areas he was most familiar with. As the sun began to turn the sky a soft orange, he nudged Bo back toward the ridge where their clothes were tucked away from view.
He really did miss it. Running alongside Bo and Ryan, completely unencumbered by everything that weighed heavily on their minds day in and day out.
Work and money.
Pirithous.
Home.
Charlotte.
Turning his nose toward the setting sun, he let out a long, low howl. Bo circled him, purposely flicking his snout with his tail before he joined in, his distinctive gravelly barks drawing the attention of the coyotes and setting off a chorus of yelps that echoed through the park until the sun finally disappeared.
*
Charlotte spun for Max, nervously anticipating his response.
“Keep the bustier and go back to the jeans,” he finally stated. “The skirt gives a trashy vibe, and the leather pants are more dominatrix than you can pull off.” He sprawled out on her sofa and dug back into a bag of popcorn. “And hurry the hell up.”
Returning to her bedroom, she pulled her jeans on and grabbed a pair of heels from her closet. She stood in front of the mirror, scanning herself from every angle while she ran her fingers through her hair to loosen the few renegade curls that were holding their bounce more than she wanted.
“Come on!” Max hollered, smacking her door. “Alex has seen you in your work uniform. Trust me when I say anything else is a step up.”
With a huff, she joined her partner and followed him to his truck, climbing in and pushing a pile of takeout bags to the floor. “You’re disgusting.”
He grinned, slipping his sunglasses on and revving the engine. “But I’m hot, so women overlook it.”
Thinking back to Alex’s trailer, she hummed in agreement.
Max tore onto the highway, blasting the music and air-conditioning as he flew down the road toward the Washout, oblivious to her increasing nerves.
What if Alex’s brother didn’t like her?
What if she didn’t like him?
Did any of it really matter since everything they had was temporary?
“You aren’t going to wear that jacket all night, are you?” he asked, pulling into a tight spot. “It’s ugly and makes your boobs look small.”
Fixing him with a dead stare, she pushed the offending clothing off her shoulders and tossed it into the back of his truck. “I don’t know why I even talk to you anymore.”
“Because I tolerate you.” He elbowed her in the ribs before stopping to flip one of her straps. “Let’s go get me laid.”
The Washout was packed, forcing them to jostle through
the crowd to find the rest of the rangers and agents. As they closed in on their table, she caught sight of Alex crouched beside a stunning redhead, his arm resting on her chair and his eyes locked on her plunging neckline. When he trailed one finger along her thigh and wedged his hand between her knees, her stomach plummeted and she took a step backward.
“Before you walk out of here or slash any tires, that’s not me. And you look incredible.”
She jumped as Alex’s voice murmured in her ear from behind, swinging around to see him standing there, a carbon copy of the man across the table. She looked back for a moment. “Wow. That’s actually kind of creepy.”
An odd look flashed across his face. “Why don’t we go grab a drink? Maybe delay the inevitable introduction to my asshole of a brother?”
She laughed in relief, taking his arm and resting her forehead on his biceps, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne. “He can’t be that bad.”
He gave her a tight smile as they squeezed through group after group of partiers. “Bo’s a lot to take if you aren’t prepared,” he said slowly, waving the bartender over and ordering two beers. “So just be ready for anything and don’t let anything he says or does get to you, okay?” He waved off the change when the bartender returned and handed over her drink, putting his arm around her waist and taking a breath. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Eighteen
Charlotte’s eyes widened as Bo began to expand on his suggestion. “Excuse me?”
“Ignore him,” Alex snarled, pulling his chair tighter to her and staring his brother down, the tendons in his neck straining.
Bo leaned back and downed the last of his whiskey. “All I’m saying is Alex and I have had a lot of practice and we have a pretty tight system. I think you might get a kick out of it.” He met Alex’s glare, rolled his eyes, and stood. “Or not.”
She watched Bo weave toward the bar, stopping intermittently to flirt with the women who approached him every few steps, and looked at Alex. “What’s tag-tea—”
“Nothing,” he growled, tracking his brother. “This was a mistake.”
She put her hand on his arm and rested her head on his shoulder, pulling her phone out of her purse. “It’s fine,” she countered. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Yeah, well, he’s still mildly sober,” he muttered, absently spinning the base of his beer on the table. “This is Bo on his best behavior.”
She finished reading the definition of tag-teaming on her phone and sat up, slipping her cell back into her purse.
Whoa.
Alex ran his hand through his hair, plastering a fake smile on his face when Max approached them. “How’s the hunt tonight?”
“Two shutdowns and a find-me-later,” Max reported. “I’m stealing your chick for a few dances.”
She pursed her lips.
“She’s going to kill you one of these nights.” Alex laughed, shifting his legs so she could stand up. “I’ll get Bo to back off a bit and I’ll be in a better mood when you return, okay?”
Biting back a comment about her newly acquired tag-team knowledge, she joined Max and the others on the dance floor, refusing to allow her imagination to ruin her night out.
*
Alex stood beside Bo, his gaze drifting to Charlotte while she danced with Max and the rest of her coworkers.
So damn gorgeous.
“Some chick you’re just hooking up with?” Bo sneered, yanking Alex’s attention back to his increasingly drunk brother. “That,” he slurred, pointing his shot of tequila at the dance floor, “isn’t one of your hookups.”
“Friends with benefits,” he murmured, tearing his eyes off Charlotte. “She’s a nice girl. Anyone else in here is fair game.” He scanned the bar. “Just ease off her, okay? She isn’t like us.”
Bo eyed him with suspicion. “This isn’t the piece of ass you were asking me about a few weeks ago, right?”
“The hell? No,” he scoffed, passing the bartender a twenty and handing Bo another beer to chase the shot in his other hand. “Charlotte’s just a regular at the lounge with the rest of the rangers.”
“Good,” Bo replied, slamming back the tequila and sliding the glass across the counter. “Because Ryan thinks you’re holding out down here, and he thinks that’s the reason why.” He cocked his head toward the dance floor, his normally gravelly voice growing hoarser the more he drank. “Your friend-with-benefits has no ass but great tits.”
Alex took a long swig of his beer.
He should have ended it weeks ago. Before there was any chance Charlotte would find her way into Bo’s sights, and before he could become irreparably tarnished in her eyes.
Before you slept with her, you bastard.
And therein lay the problem. Sleeping with her should have ended the chase.
It had, for lack of a better word, not.
He set his empty beer bottle on the counter, shaking his head when the bartender offered another. “See the blonde over there?” he asked Bo, motioning toward a group of women standing beside the dance floor. “Yeah?”
Bo smirked, finally tearing his eyes off Charlotte to scan the women over. “I’m in a brunette mood tonight.” With a grin, he pushed away from the bar counter and led Alex across the room.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and fired off a quick text to Charlotte before he followed his brother through the crowds.
*
Charlotte’s eyes snapped open to the obnoxious buzz of her apartment bell. She rolled onto her side and picked up her phone to check the time.
6:02.
And over a dozen missed texts, all from Alex.
She got to her feet, wrapping her blanket around herself as she walked to intercom. “Who is it?”
The speaker crackled. “Alex. Can I come up?”
Pressing the entrance button, she unlocked her door and opened it, listening as uneven footsteps thumped up the stairwell. Alex’s hulking form appeared at the end of the hall, his shoulders hunched as he used the wall to balance himself. She backed into her apartment and held the door open while he stumbled in, his head bowed and eyes on the floor.
“I thought you were going to be right behind me,” she stated, closing and locking her door as he leaned against the wall and bent down to pull off his shoes, tipping to the side twice before he succeeded.
“I tried,” he muttered, standing up and reaching for her fingers. “Don’t be mad, okay?”
She pursed her lips, allowing him to wrap his hand around hers but making no move toward him. “If you wanted to spend the rest of the night with your brother, you just had to say so,” she said, leading him into her living room. “I waited up for over an hour, and I work today.”
He slumped onto her sofa, his elbows on his knees and head dropped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go there, but Bo…those chicks… So I walked… It was a lot farther than I thought.” He looked up at her, his eyes glassy and bloodshot. “I just wanted to come home.”
She turned to the kitchen and filled a glass of water, kneeling in front of him when she handed it to him. “You were nowhere near drunk when I left the Washout.”
With his gaze still unfocused on the floor, he set the cup down and lifted his hand to hers, grasping it tight. “I just wanna go to bed,” he slurred. “Here. With you.”
She sighed and stood, helping him to his feet the best she could. “Let’s go.”
She led him to her bed, running her hands over her face when he collapsed on the mattress fully clothed, the stench of stale beer and rye permeating the room.
She had questions. Questions he was obviously too drunk to answer.
He closed his hazel eye and tracked her as she crawled into bed beside him, annoyed enough to keep her distance but not enough to banish him to her couch. When she was settled in, he lay back. “You have a great ass.”
She rolled onto her side and leveled him with a dead glare. “Thanks. Go to sleep.”
She turned away from him, caught betw
een feeling comforted and angered when one heavy arm was flung over her hips and he pulled her to him.
*
Alex shoved the pink comforter off his face and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, groaning as his pounding head protested the sudden shift in position. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled out of Charlotte’s room, scanning the small apartment and finding it empty.
Right. Work.
He returned to the bedroom, rummaging around for his phone and coming up empty-handed. Straightening the bedding, he began hunting the rest of the rooms, pausing when a faint buzz came from the entranceway. He followed the sound, kneeling beside his shoes and finding his phone tucked neatly between them. Swiping the screen with his thumb, he sank back against the wall and ran his hand through his hair.
A number he didn’t recognize had sent him a series of photos interspersed with flirtatious commentary. One picture of him and Bo, plastered out of their heads and sprawled across unfamiliar couches, surrounded by women he could vaguely recognize from the Washout. Another of him alone, hunched over his phone with an empty shot glass at his feet. A selfie of the blonde. A shot of him and Bo licking salt out of the hands of an attractive brunette, tequila at the ready.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
The texts were worse.
Exaggerated disappointment that he’d left early.
That whoever the sender was had gone to bed alone. And that one was accompanied by a photo.
Promises to stop by his work.
His stomach knotted, the blood draining from his face as he checked the time stamps of the messages.
There was no way Charlotte hadn’t seen at least one of them.
He tapped her name and listened as her number went straight to voice mail, her phone unreachable until she left work at the end of her shift.
Rising to his feet, he did a final walk-though of the apartment, scanning for a note that might clue him in to how deep he’d dug himself.
Nothing.
Flipping the lock on her door, he began the long walk home, his wallet tucked safely between the seats of an SUV that was parked at some woman’s apartment complex. Patting his pockets, he looked up and cursed into the bright sunlight.
Junkyard Dog Page 13
