Ex-Con: Bad Boy Romance

Chances were, I would go back to jail because of this, but these assholes didn’t need to go throwing their weight around just because they were rich. Except I didn't get the chance to find out exactly what would've happened because I suddenly found myself being accosted.

  A huge bag hit me in the head and I almost lost hold of my captor. I turned my head, gaping down at Carly. I had to blink twice to bring her into focus and I knew I was going to have a nasty headache later. “What the hell is the matter with you?” I demanded.

  “Let him go!” She brandished her purse at me.

  I snarled. “I swear, if you–”

  The man I held tensed.

  I reacted.

  There was a particularly sickening noise a bone made when it broke. I’d heard that sound more often than I cared to admit, and it turned my stomach every damn time. But as I’d rather the sound came from somebody else instead than me, and I didn't give empty warnings, I had no choice.

  As he howled in pain, I let him go. He'd be down for at least a minute, most likely more since I hadn't gotten a super-soldier kind of vibe off of them.

  Then Carly swung her purse at me again.

  I swore and caught the damn thing, throwing it down. “What is your problem?!” I shouted.

  That’s when everything went crazy.

  The man still standing rushed to put himself between the two of us.

  Some guy with a camera practically tackled Carly, and I grabbed him, throwing him back.

  The dude with the broken arm surged to his feet, cradling his arm but struggling to get between Carly and the crowd. Dimly, I realized what was going on. Reporters. Something else clicked too.

  Carly was somebody important. Or at least somebody the reporters wanted a piece of.

  So I did the only thing I could do.

  I’d caused this mess. Only seemed right to help fix it if I could.

  Another reporter nosed in and I grabbed him, shoved him back. Did the same thing over and over as I cleared a path between me and the men who fought to keep between Carly and the horde. She was pale and furious, and when her eyes met mine, I could tell she wished she had the room to hit me with her purse again.

  If she had the chance, I planned on giving her a free shot.

  One bearded burly guy with a camera shoved in close. So close that the lens of his camera came within inches of her heart-shaped face, and I was near enough to hear her startled intake of air.

  That was it.

  I shoved between them, blocking his view of her. “Back off,” I growled.

  “Freedom of the press,” he said, grinning madly.

  Then he shoved me.

  “Yeah?” I glowered down at him, using every inch of my size to show him that I didn't give a rat's ass about what he thought he knew. “You just put your hands on me. I’m pretty sure freedom of the press doesn’t cover that. So what are you going to do when I lay you out – in self-defense, of course – and you spend the night in the hospital?”

  “Are you threatening me?” He shoved his face into mine once more and this time, he used a thick, stubby finger to drill a hole into my chest.

  I didn’t touch him. Just sneered. “No, limpdick. I’m telling you that if you touch me again, I’m going to defend myself, and it will involve a whole world of pain for you.”

  “Touch me and your ass will go to jail.”

  “Won’t be the first time. And I can guarantee you, the pain I bring you will be worth every minute of it.”

  I smiled as I said it, pushing aside the knot in my stomach at the thought of going back. On the plus side, I'd get three square meals and I wouldn't be freezing my ass off.

  He must have seen the truth on my face, because his eyes flickered away and I saw him swallow, watched as he fell back a pace.

  In the next moment, a group of black-suited men surrounded us. I found out a few minutes later that they were security from the hotel.

  I blew out a breath and waited for them to call the cops on me.

  I wasn’t going to take off running. That didn’t ever go well, and there were cameras around here. My face would've been captured already, and I’d be identified in no time.

  But as I huddled, freezing, against the wall, the two men in their very expensive suits spoke with the blonde firecracker and the other suits...and no flashing lights came. Well, not exactly. An ambulance came. The man whose arm I’d broken stubbornly shook his head and my respect for him grew again. No super-soldier, but he was dedicated, and that meant a lot.

  “I’ll go in a bit. In a cab. Not now,” he said.

  “Jake!”

  That came from Carly.

  “No, I’m staying,” he said, and shot me a glare.

  I smiled serenely back at him. He flipped me off and I couldn't say I blamed him.

  A few minutes later, I was ushered into the glittering golden beauty that was the Seelbach.

  We weren’t in the lobby long before we were whisked into an elevator. It got quiet as the doors slid close, and that's when I realized that they were all working very hard at not looking at me. I hated awkward silences. As it stretched out, I finally cleared my throat and looked over at Carly. “Look, if ya'll aren’t calling the cops on me, can I just go?”

  Carly cocked her head.

  I stared at her. Hard. “If you are calling the cops, just do it.” I shrugged. “They really are the only option because if you’re looking to sue me, the only things I got are the clothes on my back, two or three more pairs of jeans and a few more shirts. Oh, and a couple of blankets, some dishes I got at a yard sale, and a few second-hand books.” I pulled my check out of my pocket. “This is pretty much all I've got that's worth anything.”

  Now all of them were looking at me.

  Carly’s mouth fell open.

  I wasn’t embarrassed. What was the point? The truth of it was, I had more now than I’d had for a good long while. I had some clothes, I had a few books, and I had a roof over my head. More importantly, I had no bars around me.

  “Are you serious?” she asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

  I thought about the list I’d given her, then shrugged. “There’s a couch and a backpack. The table isn’t mine. Came with the apartment.” I rubbed my hand on my chin and felt my stubble scratch at my palm. “Not exactly the sort of thing you’d lie about. So if you’re looking to sue me about what I did to your arm, man...” I slanted a look at the man cradling his broken arm. “I can’t give you shit.”

  He ran his tongue across his teeth and then looked away. “I have insurance. Don’t sweat it.”

  Now it was my turn to look surprised. “Don’t sweat it?” I echoed.

  Sweat beaded on his pale brow and he managed a pained smile. “You heard me. Just tell me one thing…what style of fighting did you study?”

  Style? I arched my brows and studied him. Then I grinned. “The school of hard knocks taught me, man. The school of hard knocks.”

  For a minute, he looked nonplussed. Then he chuckled. It was a rusty sound, like he didn’t laugh often.

  In the next moment, the elevator opened on a whisper and we all spilled out. Everybody else fanned out into the room.

  I stood there staring, trying not to let my mouth hang open. I could think of exactly one thing I’d seen that had been this beautiful. And it was the woman who turned to look at me with an amused expression on her face.

  “Are you going to join us?”

  Chapter 2

  “I need a drink.”

  While I was still standing there trying to take everything in, Carly made her announcement to the room in general.

  “Anybody want to join me?”

  I heard a few denials. Nobody said yes. Considering what just happened, I had to give them credit for refusing.

  “What about you over there?”

  Realizing she was talking to me, I looked away from the elegant white of the room to meet her gaze. “What?” As soon as I asked it, I felt stupid. She’d been talking about dri
nks, so she was offering me one. I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. I still had no clue what I was doing here. “You don’t need to do that.”

  Carly rolled her eyes at me. “Of course I don’t need to. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have offered it. So do you want one? After what happened the past twenty minutes, you could probably use one.”

  I jutted my chin at the suits. “If that’s the case, why aren't they having one?”

  She shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “Julio’s boys don’t drink on the job.”

  A dark-skinned dude built like a tank smiled faintly as she gestured at him. I assumed the men behind him were his boys and he was Julio.

  She gestured to the other men, including the one with the broken arm. “And my boys? They don’t either, even though I keep telling them it’s not a big deal when we’re here. But they won’t ever relax.”

  “It’s our job not to relax, Carly.” The guy with the broken arm spoke through gritted teeth.

  He was going to need to get that looked at.

  She rolled her eyes again and then smiled at me. “Have a drink with me. Makes me look a little less like a lush.”

  “Ah, yeah. Sure.” I shrugged. If I was going back to jail, I figured I should probably enjoy the moment. “Whiskey, I guess. If you’ve got it.”

  She didn't even blink. “What kind?”

  Kind? Running my tongue across my teeth, I thought that through. Okay. Yeah, I knew there were kinds. I was born in Kentucky after all and even if I hadn’t had much chance to experience it, this was the land of milk and bourbon. But my idea of variety, as far as whiskey went, ran the gamut from the kinds that didn’t burn your stomach lining right off and the kinds that did. Rather than confirm my ignorance, I acted like it didn't matter. “Anything is fine.”

  She studied me for a moment, and then she smiled. It was a somber kind of smile, one that was curiously sad, and because it made my chest feel sort of tight, I looked away. This was why I tried to avoid people. No one looked at me like they actually saw me, just who they thought I was.

  While she busied herself at what I guessed was the bar, I moved over to the window. I found myself staring out at a city I barely recognized. I supposed when you lived in the west end, in some armpit apartment that really ought to be condemned, then maybe you didn't notice the bright and shining lights, or the pretty glow of the bridges at night. My city was vastly different from hers.

  “Here.”

  I turned at the sound of her voice, and I found myself caught up in the sight of her again, the scent. Really, she was an entire experience. Golden curls, pale, soft skin and sweet, sweet female. The kind of sweet, sweet female I’d never had the pleasure of knowing, and when her fingers brushed mine, it made me twitchy.

  It had been way too long since I’d been with a woman, any woman, and she was right here...

  “Here,” she said again, smiling as she pushed the glass of whiskey into my hand. “Try this. I bet you’ll like it.”

  To cover the flush that seemed to be rushing up my neck, I grunted a response, and turned back to stare out the window. Then I tossed back a swallow, ready for the burn of it.

  It didn’t burn.

  It glided. Like hot, sweet silk.

  “Damn,” I murmured a second later.

  “Nice, yeah?”

  Instead of responding, I lifted the glass and took another drink, a smaller one this time, taking care to savor it. It was just as good this time as the last and I enjoyed it that much more for taking my time.

  “Nice is one word for it.” I lifted the glass and studied it, decided I could maybe make it last ten minutes if I was careful. I'd learned a long time ago that ten minutes could last a lifetime. At least these would be a good ten minutes.

  “Angel’s Envy,” she told me.

  I frowned and looked over at her.

  She tipped her glass at me, tapping it with a nail that was painted pink to match her dress. “The bourbon. Angel’s Envy. Good stuff. It’s one of my favorites. Kentucky makes some excellent bourbon, I must say. It’s almost as good as Pappy Van Winkles.”

  She had to be joking with that one. Squinting at her, I said, “Pappy Van Winkles?”

  “Yep.” She winked, one quick drop of her lid. “If you’re nice, maybe I’ll share it with you some time.”

  With a name like Pappy Van Winkle, it would probably taste like pure rotgut. Then again, she didn't exactly look like the sort of woman who'd throw back that shit. My experience around the opposite sex had been with that sort, and she sure as hell wasn't like those women.

  I gave her a tight smile and went back to savoring the bourbon. Angel’s Envy – the name was perfect. It was almost gone, and I wished I hadn’t belted that first drink. If I had more, I’d have a reason to linger, and considering what I had waiting for me when I left, lingering didn't sound like a bad idea.

  Around me, I could hear the low murmur of voices, the two men who’d chased after Carly at first, and the others who joined up soon after. I heard what sounded like a report, and then a stream of cussing, a promise of regular updates. I didn't look at any of it, letting myself enjoy the time alone with my drink.

  I finished it far sooner than I wanted to and finally turned around. I saw the neat little bar area where she’d poured the glass and went over, intent on washing it up. I may have been rough around the edges, but I had some manners.

  “Do you have a job?”

  Carly's question stopped me in my tracks.

  I went still, my spine going poker straight. Slowly, I turned. Meeting her gaze dead-on, I inclined my head. “Why?” It came out more harshly than I'd intended, but I didn't apologize.

  A cute, impish sort of smile curled the corners of her pretty mouth. Man, I should have stolen a kiss when I'd had the chance. I’d regret that for the rest of my life. Maybe she’d never remember anything else about me, but if I’d kissed her, I could have given her something to remember.

  “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  That question caught me off-guard, and I didn't have an answer for her. Scowling, I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck, trying to figure out the best way to answer.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the looks a few of the hotel suits slid me. They were quick. Subtle, too. But I know that kind of look. You stupid or something?

  Or something.

  I curled my lip in their direction.

  Judging by the subtle tensing of Julio’s body, he realized something was amiss. Now he was real subtle, but I caught the quick turn of his head, the way he cocked his eyebrow at his people. Their faces blanked quick as you please.

  Fuck ‘em.

  “I figure you had to be somebody,” I said, shrugging. “Reporters don’t go around shoving their cameras in the face of your everyday average bombshell just for the hell of it. But...no. I don’t know who you are.”

  Carly’s head fell back as she laughed. Maybe I should've been embarrassed by that, but the sound of it wasn’t mocking. I knew when I was being laughed at.

  And I knew that wasn't it. I hadn’t heard the sound of pure and simple happiness very often, and maybe that was why I recognized the difference so easily.

  She was just happy. Delighted, even. And it had something to do with the fact that I didn't know who she was.

  This day just kept getting weirder.

  She came toward me, still grinning, although the laugh was fading. I could still hear the echo of it, and it was hard not to let my mouth curve up in reaction. I wanted to smile at her, share in that bright, infectious pleasure, despite the fact that I didn’t really understand why she was so delighted.

  It was a puzzle, and I was so busy trying to figure it out that she caught me off-guard. Not something that normally happened to me. It wasn't smart, not for a guy like me. It could end up getting an ex-con like me dead, so I'd spent years honing my awareness. But she was something I'd never expected. Or experienced.

  I tensed as
she reached out, my body reacting instinctively. When her fingers brushed my cheeks, I caught her wrists. What the hell was she doing?

  Then she swayed closer and the shock had me loosening my grip. I didn't understand why her goons weren't stopping her. Because there was no way she actually wanted...

  She dragged my mouth down even as she rose up on her toes. Before my brain could process, she pressed her lips against mine.

  Hard.

  Lust, visceral and hot, twisted through me like a punch to the gut.

  Fuck.

  She was already retreating when I caught her shoulders and did exactly what I’d wanted to do pretty much from the second I’d tackled her out on the street. Then, it would have been pretty damn out of place. Now...well, maybe it was out of place, but for that split second when her lips had brushed mine, I felt it. That strange, seductive tug.

  And, hell, she started it.

  I waited for her to pull back, but she sighed against my mouth and leaned closer.

  What should have been a fast, impersonal kiss became something slower, softer...sweeter. I licked at her lips and she hummed deep in her throat, opened her mouth for me. My fingers tightened on her shoulders and I started to slide my hands down.

  But the loud clearing of somebody’s throat interrupted before things could go any further.

  We broke apart and I could feel my face heating up while she studied me. There was something in her eyes I hadn’t seen until that moment, and I wasn't sure how that made me feel.

  She took a step back and I wanted to grab her, pull her close, make everybody go away, make the whole world go away. And I knew she could do that for me, do the one thing that no one else had been able to do. She could make me forget. Forget where I was, who I was.

  Instead of acting on what I wanted, however, I put more distance between us. My booted foot kicked something and I looked down, realizing I’d dropped the glass that had held the bourbon. I stooped down, grabbing it. When I straightened, I caught sight of her from the corner of my eye.

  Lust clenched my stomach at the look on her face. She was still watching me, wearing a small smile. The kind of smile a woman gets when maybe she wants a man to make the whole world go away.