Valentine's Billionaire Bad Boys
Ryan cut between us before I could say anything else.
“Hey. Truce.” He lifted his hands and when his eyes moved from Carly’s to mine, there was an appraising sort of look there that made me want to squirm. “Sounds like you’ve been down a rough road there, Bobby.”
I sneered at him. “Yeah? Well, it’s my road. I can walk it just fine.”
“No denying that.” Ryan angled his head. “Doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to sit down and take a break every now and then. Come on. Sit. Have a burger. A drink. We can talk.”
* * *
I was so tired, and the thought of going back out into that fucking cold in just a worn out coat and my flannel, walking the miles still left between me and home made me want to shudder. The tread on my shoes was paper thin, and my feet were already hurting from the walk into town earlier, but I was pretty much broke, so walking was my only option. I wasn’t going to waste the extra money Frank had given me out of pity. It would cover rent and food – not bus fare.
I told myself that was why I caved. When the food came, I ate. And when Ryan talked, I listened. Every minute he spent talking was another minute I wasn't out in the cold. It was inevitable, and it just kept getting me home later and later, but I'd decided to enjoy what I had while I had it.
Carly’s paternal grandmother had been born in Louisville, so she'd spent time here as a kid. A few months ago, Carly had decided to fund a school where underprivileged kids – like her dad had been – could go to learn a musical skill. The school was opening in five days, and she was here for all of the opening events, including a gala, some interviews, a ribbon cutting ceremony...so much shit, it made my head spin.
They didn’t expect any trouble, and actually had two more men flying in tomorrow, but Carly never went anywhere without at least two body guards, which meant she needed four so they could rotate off.
And I’d cost her one of those four. Jake would still be on hand.
He'd shown up not long after we’d demolished the burgers. Apparently, Julio had connections at the closest hospital, and Jake had already gotten his forearm x-rayed and set. Money talked.
Jake assured Carly he was definitely okay to be doing some basic work, but they did need somebody with two functioning hands.
And for some reason, Carly wanted it to be me. Even the small bit of time I'd known her, I knew I'd never be able to convince her otherwise. So I had to convince Jake and Ryan. She might listen to them.
“Y’all realize I know nothing about being a bodyguard,” I pointed out. I had another glass of that bourbon, Angel’s Envy, in my hand. It was like liquid gold and definitely worth having the discussion. Tipping my glass at Carly, I said, “Asking me to do this is like asking some lightweight boxer to join your team. Just because somebody is strong and knows how to take a hit and throw a punch doesn’t mean jack.”
“There is a lot more to it than taking a hit and throwing a punch,” Jake agreed. “And you proved you’re aware of that. This job takes intelligence. An awareness of your surroundings. An awareness of the people around you. You figured out on your own that Carly needed protection, and although it didn’t concern you, you fought your way through to get to her and provide that protection. Takes guts, smarts and heart to do that.”
He slid his gaze toward Ryan and the two of them shared a long look before he turned his eyes toward Carly. None of them spared me a glance. I got the feeling the three of them were having a silent conversation...about me.
Carly all but glowed as Jake gave her a terse nod.
She spun to face me.
“So. Five thousand for a week’s work...how does that sound to you?” She stared at me with those bright blue eyes and a dazzling smile on her pretty face, as though she knew without a doubt I wouldn’t say no.
“I think,” I said slowly. “It sounds like you’re crazy.”
I turned to go. I knew if I stayed any longer, I'd give in. I'd had too much shit in my life, and I could use something good.
Chapter Four
Even a no-good piece of white trash like me knows this simple truth of life: money talks.
And in some cases, it screams. Especially desperate situations such as mine.
I was exhausted. Ryan and I ended up having a ‘healthy discussion’ over how I’d get home last night. He’d insisted it was no problem to drive me. I’d asked him what kind of car he drove. When the word Lexus came up, I told him hell no and he’d decided he hadn’t liked my tone. I’d then proceeded to tell him to shove it up his ass. Not my fault the dumb-ass hadn’t gotten the fact that a Lexus on my side of the city was very much a problem, or at least it would be one for me.
I didn’t need my parole officer hearing about the pricey ride I’d been cruising around in. My current PO was a decent guy, more or less, but I didn’t want him thinking I’d hooked up with the local drug dealers or pimps. Nor did I need some of those local assholes giving Ryan grief after he dropped me off, forcing me to do things my PO would definitely disapprove of.
In the end, we’d compromised. Or I made him think we’d compromised. He suggested a cab, and said he’d cover the fare. I’d told him fine. Then I had the driver drop me off a few miles from home and given him most of the cash Ryan had stuffed in my hand. I’d used the rest of it to catch the bus.
I’d only gotten a few hours of sleep before the sound of a fist pounding on the door this morning woke me up.
It was Ryan.
Apparently, Carly’s suits weren’t just pretty faces.
Carly hadn’t taken no for an answer, and really, I hadn’t tried that hard, not after the promise of five thousand dollars had been made. But I also hadn’t told any of them where I lived. Apparently, someone had dug it up on their own.
While I was still trying to wake up, Ryan proceeded to tell me they needed to get me some clothes, since I’d be escorting Carly to several business and formal events.
I was blaming my lack of coffee for not protesting more as Ryan waited for me to get dressed and join him in the car. We’d joined Carly and Jake before heading out to go shopping.
I expected many things, but I hadn’t expected this trip to this ritzy area of Louisville. It was like some mythical Avalon. Bums like me, we heard about this part of town, but we never got to really see it. Lush green lawns that looked nice even in the dead of winter, windows that sparkled in the thin, wintry light. The sounds of the traffic were muted and even the air smelled better.
This was where the money lived.
I didn’t like it.
“Look, this is no big deal, Bobby,” Carly said, leaning against me as we came to a stop by a glass-paned window. The wooden panes were painted white and the glass sparkled under the bright early morning sun.
That was easy for her to say. She looked like she belonged here.
When I slunk in behind Jake, Ryan and Carly, shoulders hunched and head tucked low, I expected to be tossed out on my ass.
I wasn’t entirely off base. A man in a suit that probably cost more than I made in a month – no, a couple of months – came hustling toward me even as another man glided up to Carly and her two men, smiling benignly as if some piece of human dirt wasn’t all but clinging to their heels.
“Sir, you’ll have to–”
That was all he got out before Carly reached back and caught my arm, pulling me up beside her.
“Hi!” she said, beaming in that way she had. I’d never seen a woman smile as much as she did. But then again, maybe she had a reason to smile. Me, I could barely find a reason to scratch my ass.
As she tugged me closer, the man who’d been coming to rid his fine establishment of my presence froze. I could see the look he shot his cohort, confusion that quickly faded, replaced by an expression that was blank and smooth as glass. He wouldn’t react now until he knew what his rich customers were thinking.
Carly’s smile was almost impossible to resist, and Mr. Slick in his suit wasn’t immune. His lips curved and he held out a hand. “Woul
d you be Ms. Prince?” he asked, his voice warming.
“I am. Jake spoke with somebody a little while ago. Did he explain the circumstances?”
I hadn’t heard the call, but I had a pretty good feeling that I was the circumstance. I clenched my jaw and felt my face heat up. I didn’t want to deal with this.
“He did.” The man shifted his gaze to me and took a step forward, drawing a pair of glasses from the pocket of his shirt as he did so.
As he came closer than I liked, I backed up. “Watch it, pal.”
He smiled. It wasn’t the same sort of smile the others got, but it wasn’t totally fake. “I’m sorry. I just need to get a good look at you. An idea of your sense of...style, if you would.”
“My sense of style?” I bared my teeth at him as I laughed. “It’s simple. If it’s clean and covers me, I’ll take it.”
To my surprise, the man laughed. “Well, that will do very well for you...for the life you have now, but if you will be assisting a woman like Ms. Prince, perhaps you could understand that you’ll need a bit more...versatility.”
Carly caught my arm by hooking hers through my elbow. You could’ve put me in a room with a hundred people, and if any of those hundred people touched me – by chance or on purpose – I’d have been on red alert. You do time, you get weird about people invading your personal space.
But Carly...well, I was figuring out fast that having her close to me wasn’t a bad thing at all. In fact, I kind of liked it. More than I should have, I knew, because I wanted more of her in my personal space, and I wanted it to be in a very personal manner, so to speak.
Although the man now approaching me with a tape measure had a smile on his face, I could see the few other customers in the shop giving me sideways looks. I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if one of them asked when the trash would be taken out.
Fortunately, I was at least spared that.
Determined to stick it out, I found myself in front of a three way mirror, arms out while the dude – his name was Harrison – buzzed around me, needles in his mouth like an extra row of crazy little teeth. He somehow managed to talk with them in there, too. I could just see myself trying to do that. I’d choke on them. Get them stuck in my throat and bleed to death on the carpet, right there in the middle of a couple of rich old bastards.
“You’ve got a great form, Mr. Cantrell.”
“Bobby,” I corrected, trying to pretend my arms hadn’t turned into lead weights, oh, five minutes ago. I was in good shape, but no one was made to hold this position for long.
“Of course, Mr. Cantrell.” He straightened and then took a step back. “Lower your arms.” He gave me a once-over and then nodded. “Yes. That will do for the time being.” He checked his watch, and then turned to Carly. “I can have this one done in two hours. I have a few other pieces I can have complete within twenty-four hours, if you need the rush.”
“We need the rush,” Carly said, her voice absent, a frown on her face. She was staring at her phone and tapping away furiously.
“Absolutely, Ms. Prince.”
Jake moved forward and gestured to the counter. “Why don’t we get all that sorted out?”
I closed a hand into a fist as I looked down at the pinned and tucked up clothes I wore. The material was softer and finer than anything I’d ever known. I didn’t even want to think about how much it cost. So much for swinging by a Target or something. Or stashing all of that five thousand while I looked for another job. “I can’t afford this.”
Carly waved a hand. “It comes with the position. I pick up all my employees’ on the job expenses.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she turned away, shoving her phone toward Ryan. Her tone was agitated, and the sound made my stomach clench. I didn’t like whoever was making her feel like that.
“Look at this shit!” she said to Ryan. “She’s at it again. I’m calling my damn lawyer. I can’t keep doing this. The lawyer can handle it this time.”
Ryan took the phone and skimmed it. He held it out towards her, but Carly didn’t even notice. She was striding across the floor, long strides that did crazy things with her stretchy mini skirt, over the knee boots and those long, long legs. “Why do I have to put up with the crazy, Ry? What did I do to deserve this?”
“You know what my advice is going to be, Carly.”
She stopped and raked her fingers through her tousled hair. I wondered what it would feel like to bury my hands in her hair, to see it messed up after a night together. My hands curled into fists. Dammit. This was going to be torture.
“I can’t...” She stared up at the ceiling, and then her head rolled toward me and she caught sight of me. As if she’d forgotten I was there, she gave an odd little start, a half-jump, half-shiver. Then she smiled. “Sorry. Family freak-out. Ignore me.”
Like that would ever happen.
But I shrugged. “No problem.” Then because I couldn’t not ask, I said, “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” She shrugged. “Just typical family crap. You know how it goes.”
Right. “Yeah. Sure.”
I turned at the sound of footsteps.
I didn’t think her idea and my idea of family crap were even close to the same. With my dad, back when he’d still been breathing, an average day had gone something along the lines of this: food wasn’t done, or maybe it was done and it was cold, he’d dump his shit, wash up, and then slap my mother. If his mood had been really foul, she’d gotten a belt across the back or a fist in the face. If I’d been too loud or not fast enough, or if he’d been just feeling mean, I’d gotten a kick in the ass or fist in the face.
That had been my family until my mother and I left Tennessee. Then, it had been just the two of us…until she died and I’d had no family. It’d just been me. Then, before I’d gone to jail, that had been changing. I’d been looking forward to it, even. But I didn’t have that anymore either.
“Hey.”
The sound of Carly’s voice drew me out of the ugliness of the past, and the even uglier mess of my own mistakes. I looked up to see her studying me. “Where did you go?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Nowhere that matters.” I shrugged it off, or pretended to. There were people who acted like guys didn’t get emotional or some shit like that, but that was all bullshit. Some of us just didn’t show it.
In my opinion, what was the point of getting worked up over something I couldn’t change or fix. Except I still thought about it, the past. Sometimes I thought about it so much it drove me crazy, made me want to take drastic measures just to make it stop.
“If it doesn’t matter, then why did you slip off there?”
I jerked my head up and met Carly’s soft blue eyes. For a princess, she sure as hell saw pretty deep into people.
I didn’t like it. And because I didn’t like it, I leaned in close and murmured, “I’m in the middle of a good hard brood, princess. But if you insist on distracting me, why don’t we slip off to one of those dressing rooms they got back there, huh?”
I didn’t back away, crowding into her space. I waited for her to blush, pull back, or maybe even call for Ryan or Jake. Or both of them. They both had a rough idea of how I moved now, and if they planned it out, they might be able to take me down. Especially since I was in a mood to hurt. Not to hurt somebody, but get hurt myself.
But all she did was reach up and lay her hand on my cheek. I sucked in a breath at the way her soft skin felt.
“If and when I decide to get naked with you, it won’t be because you want to use me as a distraction, or to forget what’s cluttering up your head, Bobby Cantrell.” She leaned in and kissed me.
I was stunned enough by what she said that I didn’t think to deepen the kiss or even grab her and hold on. And then it was over and she was backing away. By the time my brain caught up, she was already five feet away.
And I realized what I thought I’d heard her say
“What?” I had to have misunderstood her.
/> She smiled at me, that sly, feline, female sort of smile a woman gave a man when she knew she said something that will drive him out of his mind. “You heard me well enough, sugar,” she said, mimicking my accent almost perfectly. Then her face brightened and she pointed over my shoulder. “Look, I think Jake found you some clothes to wear for now.”
I almost snapped that I didn’t want any clothes. It would’ve been the truth. I didn’t want any clothes, and I sure as hell didn’t want any clothes from this place. I hadn’t seen so much as a price tag, but I had a weird suspicion that even a week’s worth of clothing would cost more than I made in a couple of months.
The man with Jake gestured toward me. I couldn’t help but notice it was the same guy who’d been ready to hustle me out the door earlier. I gave him a mockery of a smile. He swallowed and smiled gamely back. “Sir, if you would...”
* * *
Four hours later, I’d more than doubled my wardrobe. I just about choked when I heard the discreetly murmur of the total. Ryan passed over a gold card without blinking, while Jake and Carly started talking to me, clearly an attempt to distract me from a sum that had not three digits, but four.
She’d just spent a few thousand dollars on clothes, and that wasn’t even counting the suits she’d had those guys putting a rush on either. These were just some jeans, sweaters, a few sports coats that fit like they’d been made for me, and some other clothes that ranged from casual to...well, they looked pretty damn dressy to me, but with the suits I now had, I didn’t know what to call the other stuff.
Before we left, Carly had me take a pair of black trousers and one of the shirts into the dressing room to change so I could wear them out. When I got back there, I looked at the clothes. For fuck’s sake. She’d given me underwear. She hadn’t even blinked when she’d given me a fucking pair of boxers. I didn’t wear boxers. But I wasn’t about to argue that point with her. I’d deal with the underwear problem on my own later.
A few minutes later, though, I decided maybe I’d give the shorts she’d pushed on me a chance. They weren’t the loose-fit boxers I’d thought they were at first, but rather those boxer-briefs, and they were pretty nice. Soft, too. It was pretty pathetic, but I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d gotten new underwear.