Rock Chick Redemption Page 4

  I didn’t know, no one warned me.

  I bit in.

  I chewed.

  I closed my eyes in oblivious pleasure.

  Then, I moaned.

  I couldn’t help myself, they were that good.

  When I opened them, the Handsome Troop, including Lee, Eddie, Mace, Vance and Hank were all staring at me and Lee and Eddie had lost their scary looks.

  Hank was looking at me like he wanted to take a bite out of me.

  My heart skipped a beat and my head went dizzy.

  I covered quickly.

  “What?” I asked after I swallowed. “They’re good.”

  Uncle Tex’s hand went to the top of my head. “You can tell she’s family.”

  Ally came up as Indy whisked empty martini glass number three out of my hand and exchanged it with full martini glass number four, better known to all as Naughty Girl Martini.

  “Heard you bought Tex a cell phone,” Ally said.

  “Yeah!” I replied, maybe a bit more excitedly than a new cell phone warranted, and I pulled it out of my pocket. “I’m getting everyone’s numbers for him. What’s your number?” I flipped it open, bent my head and hit the buttons that would add numbers to the phone book.

  “I’m not gonna use it,” Uncle Tex said.

  “Trust me, you’ll use it,” I told him.

  “Waste of good fuckin’ money,” Uncle Tex said.

  I looked up and scowled at him.

  “I’m telling you, Uncle Tex, you’ll use it!” It wasn’t so much telling him he’d use it as ordering him to use it.

  He grinned. “Darlin’ girl, you’re cute when you’re riled.”

  “And you’re annoying when you’re stubborn,” I shot back and took a sip of martini (okay, maybe it was a gulp) thus catapulting myself into Naughty Girl Martini Land.

  He just shook his head at me like I was funny.

  My scowl darkened.

  “What happens when Nancy wants to get hold of you when you’re out in the El Camino? Hunh? What then?”

  Uncle Tex’s face got red, and it wasn’t from anger, or maybe, I should say, it wasn’t entirely from anger.

  If I’d been paying attention (which I was not, I was too drunk to pay attention), I’d have noticed that all the women in my vicinity (including Indy, Ally, Jet, Daisy and Trixie) smiled and all the men (including Hank, Lee, Vance, Mace and Eddie) tensed.

  “Roxie,” I heard a deep voice say from behind me.

  It wasn’t a voice that was totally familiar to me but I knew it anyway.

  It was Hank.

  “Well?” I asked Uncle Tex, ignoring Hank and putting the hand with the cell to my hip.

  “Roxanne Giselle, you’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’,” Uncle Tex said in a low boom.

  “Ha!” I replied. It wasn’t much of a comeback but I felt Hank behind me and it was all I could come up with.

  Tex leaned in, Hank’s hand wrapped around my arm and he pulled me away from Uncle Tex’s threatening pose and back into his body. I was too drunk for an evasive maneuver and anyway, I liked the feel of his body against me.

  Tex’s eyes went beyond me.

  “Nightingale, maybe you should take her out back and program your number into my new fuckin’ phone.”

  “I’m thinkin’ that’s a good idea,” Hank said behind me.

  Sanity returned and I was thinking it was a very, very bad idea.

  Too late, Hank was steering me sideways, then forward, through the dining room. He grabbed a jacket off the back of a chair and then moved me through the kitchen and out the backdoor.

  * * * * *

  That’s when it all began.

  The beginning of the end.

  * * * * *

  The cold night air outside was like a slap in the face. If I wasn’t in Naughty Girl Martini Land, I would have sobered instantly. Unfortunately, I was deep in Naughty Girl Martini Land. So deep, I was skipping dazedly through the Naughty Girl Martini forest and leaping over the Naughty Girl Martini streams, completely oblivious to everything.

  I shoved the cell phone in my back pocket and turned to face Hank.

  “Uncle Tex is stubborn,” I said, sounding uppity.

  Hank had flipped on the outside light and there was a streetlight in the alley behind Indy’s house. Both illuminated us and I watched as he walked up to me and threw out the jacket. His arm came around one side of me, his other hand came up on the other side to catch the edge and settle the jacket around my shoulders. Both his hands pulled the jacket closed at my neck and stayed there.

  I warmed up immediately, even as I shivered.

  “Think that runs in the family,” Hank remarked.

  “I’m not stubborn!” I retorted, though I knew I was.

  “Right,” he replied but his lips were twitching.

  “We should go in there, show Uncle Tex how to use his phone. It’s good for emergencies, and, if the stories he’s been telling me are anything to go by, there are a fair lot of emergencies amongst you all.”

  Hank’s eyes locked on mine. “Gotta admit, that’s the truth.”

  “Whisky, it’s not only the truth, it’s an understatement.”

  His hands flexed and he came closer. My body stilled at his further invasion of my space.

  “Whisky?” he asked softly, his namesake eyes going languid and my heart skipped in my chest.

  I ignored his question, his eyes and my heart and leaned back a bit. I wasn’t so far gone into Naughty Girl Martini Land to lose my safety bearings that much.

  I went on doggedly. “From what I read in his letters, Uncle Tex respects you. If you told him to use the phone, he might do it.”

  “I think it might be a good idea if you leave the phone alone.”

  I tilted my head to the side and narrowed my eyes at him. Before I could say anything, he asked, “Not stubborn?”

  “Nope,” I lied immediately.

  “Right.” Then he grinned, full on this time.

  “Stop grinning at me, Whisky. I’m not stubborn.”

  “Next thing, you’ll tell me you’re not high maintenance.”

  I gasped. “I’m not!”

  I was. I was totally high maintenance.

  His eyes moved over my face.

  “Jesus. Yesterday, if someone told me Tex’s niece looked like you, I would’ve laughed at them. Acted like you, maybe, looked like you, no way.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean stubborn, full of attitude, a little crazy.”

  “I’m not crazy!” I was crazy, though not as crazy as Uncle Tex.

  “Right,” Hank said again.

  “You’ve known me what? Ten seconds? And you think you have me figured out.”

  “Sweetheart, I had you figured out the minute you walked into Fortnum’s.”

  I felt my breath catch then lock.

  With effort, I unlocked it and exhaled. I decided to push the issue, don’t ask me why, it was stupid. Then again, I was a little hammered (okay, maybe a lot hammered).

  “And you think I look high maintenance?”

  “Eddie called it and Eddie’s right.”

  Good God. They’d been talking about me.

  “So that’s why Eddie doesn’t like me,” I said.

  His grin faded, his hands fell away and he moved back.

  I didn’t like this. I liked his hands where they were, they made me feel warm and, if I was honest, safe.

  “Eddie doesn’t have a lot of patience for high maintenance.”

  “Eddie doesn’t know me well enough to throw me and neither do you.”

  “Eddie’ll get to know you and he’ll get over it. I’m already over it.”

  I didn’t want him to be over it. I didn’t want him to be anything.

  This wasn’t strictly true, but I was trying to go with that thought as best I could considering I was highly inebriated.

  Hank was watching me and I could tell he was reading my thoughts.

  “How long are
you staying in Denver?” he asked.

  “Awhile.”

  “How long is awhile?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Long enough to have dinner with me?”

  Holy cow. I’d read it in Uncle Tex’s letters but now it was right here in front of me. When they wanted something, these Denver boys did not fuck around.

  I blinked at him.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You heard me.”

  I blinked again.

  “That isn’t a good idea,” I replied and threw out my arm for emphasis.

  Unfortunately, the hand attached to my arm was still carrying a martini and it sloshed all over the bricks paving the backyard and on Hank’s jacket.

  “Shit! I’m sorry,” I said, turning to put the glass on a table and starting toward the door, using this as what I considered a golden opportunity to execute an escape plan. “I’ll go and get a towel.”

  Hank caught my arm and stopped me.

  Escape plan thwarted.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

  “I got vodka on your jacket.”

  “It’ll clean.”

  I stared at him.

  “It won’t clean, it’s suede. Dammit, it’s soaking through. I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “You aren’t buyin’ me a new jacket.”

  “I am, this’ll be ruined,” I told him. “We have to get a towel.”

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “You’re avoiding the vodka stain!”

  I was avoiding his question. I was avoiding it with everything I had.

  He drew me closer to him.

  “Let’s get back to dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at six thirty. Where are you staying?”

  I shook my head, “Uncle Tex and I’ll be playing with the cats.”

  It wasn’t good but it was the best I had.

  He drew me closer.

  “Is there a reason you don’t want to have dinner with me?” he asked.

  Yes, there was a reason; there were millions of them. None of which I was going to share, the biggest of which was Billy.

  “No,” I lied.

  “Where are you staying?” Hank, obviously, could be stubborn too.

  “Listen, Whisky, I’m here to see my uncle, then, I’m gone.”

  He drew me even closer, pulling me in front of him so that my breasts nearly brushed his chest. He looked down at me and smiled.

  My mind went blank and I stared.

  It might sound stupid, but his smile was breathtaking. He had great teeth.

  “Sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, “You were here to see your uncle until you stepped into Fortnum’s and saw me and I saw you. You know it and I know it. You want me to convince you. I’m prepared to do that.”

  Yowza.

  My stomach pitched and I could feel my breasts swell, so much so, I was surprised they didn’t poke him in the chest.

  I wanted him to convince me, I wanted that a lot. Maybe that was why I said what I said next.

  “You have no idea why I’m here.”

  His face came closer to mine and for some reason, I didn’t move.

  I really should have moved.

  His eyes looking into mine, he said, “No, I don’t. But you’ll tell me over dinner tomorrow night.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I do.”

  I started to panic, mainly because I was realizing if I didn’t get away, he was going to kiss me.

  I pulled at my arm.

  “I need to go inside.”

  The hand not on my arm came to my hip and his fingers bit into me, gentle but firm, holding me where I was.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  My heart started racing.

  “Let me go.”

  “I see I have to convince you,” he said this like it was an advantageous turn of events that pleased him a great deal.

  I was going to say no. I should have been quicker about it, but his hand at my hip pulled mine into contact with his, his head came down and he kissed me.

  Good God.

  It was true, these Denver boys did not fuck around. It wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss, a brush or touch of the lips. It was a kiss kiss; his mouth opening over mine, his tongue insistent against my lips until they parted (which, I’m afraid to admit, didn’t take a lot of insisting) and then his tongue slid inside.

  His fingers stopped biting into my hip, mainly because I’d leaned into him, my arms lifted and slid around his neck and my left hand went into his hair. I tilted my head to the side and kissed him back.

  I couldn’t help it, it was the best kiss I’d ever had. It beat even Billy’s finest mouth talents by a mile.

  When he lifted his head, I kept my eyes closed and breathed. “Holy cow.”

  “Where are you staying?” he asked against my mouth.

  “Marriott Towneplace Suites on Speer.”

  “The old Hirschfeld Press building?”

  I nodded, still feeling a bit dizzy from the kiss and warm and cozy pressed up against his hard body, even though the vodka-stained jacket had fallen off my shoulders.

  “Sunshine, open your eyes,” he whispered.

  I opened my eyes and he was grinning at me.

  “Now I have another question.”

  Shit.

  I’d already said too much.

  I fought against the Naughty Girl Martini pull, his hand at my hip slid around my waist and held me close. The other one went to my neck.

  I lost my fight against the Naughty Girl Martini pull.

  “Why’d you thank Indy before you left Fortnum’s?”

  I stared at him for a second, not remembering, then I remembered.

  As this wasn’t a dangerous question, I answered.

  “She brought Uncle Tex to me.”

  His arm tightened and his thumb slid across my jaw.

  “How’s that? You two are close.”

  I shook my head, “Until today, I’d never met him.”

  He blinked, slow.

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  My hands moved to press against his chest but he didn’t move away. I gave up and left my hands where they were.

  “Seriously. We’ve been writing to each other since I was a little girl, but we’d never met. He cut the family off after he got back from the war. He talked only to me and only through letters.”

  “Christ,” Hank muttered.

  “He’s been writing about you all for months and I know Indy got him off his block and gave him a job. I thought it was time to try and see him and I’m hoping I can get him back to the family.”

  His eyes locked on mine.

  “That why you’re here?”

  It wasn’t, not entirely. It was too important to lie about so I didn’t answer at all.

  “Have you asked him to go home with you?” Hank went on.

  I nodded. “Kind of but he’s not ready yet.”

  “I expect you won’t give up.”

  I shook my head.

  “Good girl,” he whispered.

  His approval felt like he’d wrapped his jacket around me again.

  “Will you let me go now?”

  His hand slid along my neck and then into my hair from the bottom to cup the back of my head.

  “After you promise me you’ll be at the Marriott tomorrow at six thirty when I come to pick you up.”

  “I promise,” I fibbed with great remorse. I was going to be nowhere near the Marriott even though I wished I could be.

  He shook his head.

  “You know I’m a cop?”

  I nodded.

  “You know Lee owns a private investigation service?”

  My brows drew together but I nodded again.

  “You know all the boys on his payroll are experienced bounty hunters?”

  My eyes widened. I didn’t know that.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why are
you telling me this?”

  “‘Cause, you aren’t at the Marriott, I’ll find you or one of them will and they’ll bring you to me.”

  Holy cow.

  My throat closed with fear and I swallowed hard to open it.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Nope.”

  Boy, was I in trouble.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You know why.”

  I did. I knew why. I knew exactly why.

  Fatal attraction.

  “Whisky—”

  “Sunshine, promise me now and mean it.”

  I thought about it. I could have dinner with Hank. Then it would be done. Then I’d find a time to tell Uncle Tex my plan, I’d place the breadcrumbs for Billy to find me and go back to Chicago with him. Then, I’d get my stash of clothes and money from Annette and, with Uncle Tex’s help, I’d disappear for long enough for Billy to forget me and move on.

  And, in the meantime, I could have a pleasant memory, a nice meal with a handsome guy.

  I sighed.

  “Okay, I promise to be at the hotel.”

  I thought that’d be it, but his lips came down to mine, his hand at the back of my head tilting my face up and he kissed me again. It was a repeat of the first, but better (if it could be believed).

  When we finished, my arms were around his neck again.

  “I’m gonna have to ask you to stop kissing me,” I whispered and, even to myself, I didn’t sound very convincing with my request.

  He smiled.

  “I’m not gonna stop kissing you, but I’ll wait until tomorrow night to do it again.” His hand fisted gently in my hair and his mouth went to my ear. Then he said, “And, as soon as I can, I’m gonna taste more than your lips.”

  Good God. My head went dizzy, my breasts swelled again, my nipples got hard and my knees went so weak, I had to hold on tight.

  “You’re moving too fast,” I whispered.

  He kissed my neck then lifted his head and looked at me.

  “Sweetheart, I intend to move so fast, you’ll be dizzy,” he promised.

  It was way too late for that.

  Chapter Four

  Eyes Wide Open

  I was laying on a couch at Fortnum’s, feet up on the armrest, knees bent, eyes closed, arm over my face, not caring if the customers thought I was a nutcase. I was listening to Bruce Springsteen singing “Thunder Road” on my MP3 player, waiting for Uncle Tex to finish work and trying to forget last night.

  After Hank took me back inside Indy’s house, I accepted martini number five, or Stupid Girl Martini. If memory served, I spent the rest of the evening standing next to Hank, giggling myself silly. And, I think I might have even spent some of that time holding his hand.