“IT’S SPENCER, AND YOU KNOW IT.” He took her arm and started her toward the living room. “Why do you insist on butchering my name?”
“Actually…I don’t know.” She put on her brakes. “Where are we going?”
“I figured we’d watch some television. Maybe a movie or something.”
After a big yawn, she pulled free. “I need to get going. Burning the candle at both ends has me more tired than usual. I need some shut-eye.”
Shit. He glanced at his watch. “It’s only eight o’clock.”
“Early to bed, early to rise and all that.” She started for the front door and her shoes.
“You get up early?”
“I get up whenever I wake. And more often than not, I can’t sleep. So—”
“Why can’t you sleep?”
Impatient, she glanced back at him. “I’ll tell you all about my sleeping habits—tomorrow.” She bent and pulled on first one unlaced sneaker, then the other.
Arizona had “sloppy” down to a fine art. But it was a look that complemented her attitude. “We still need to talk about the Green Goose. How are we going in, what time, every little detail.” Had Trace already disabled her car? She wanted to leave sooner than he’d anticipated—not that anyone could accurately anticipate anything with Arizona. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”
“I’ve got some ideas for that. We can talk about it tomorrow morning.” Her mouth curled in an acerbic smile. “Or do you have plans with Marla?”
Ignoring that, he said, “Why the big rush?”
She opened the door. “Told you. I’m tired.”
Hot, humid air, thick with the threat of a storm, blasted him as he followed her out. He needed to think of a way to stall her.
Maybe if he hadn’t been so touchy discussing his past… But no, he couldn’t go there. As an alternative, he asked, “Where are you staying?”
Without looking at him, she said, “Just a motel.”
Suspicions bloomed. “What motel?”
“A random dive.” Halfway down the sidewalk, she glanced over at Marla’s house. “Should you be dogging my heels like this? You know your girlfriend probably has her nose to the window, watching your every move.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He glanced that way, too, and saw a shadow shift from the window. Damn. Catching Arizona before she reached her car, he said, “Forget Marla. Why are you dodging the question?”
“What question?”
He growled out an impatient breath. “The question about where you’re staying.”
“I wasn’t.” She opened her car door to let out the heat and then leaned on the fender. “Thing is, you haven’t yet agreed to be my partner, so why should I tell you anything?”
“Blackmail?”
Her eyes, now bright with mischief, looked even bluer out in the natural light. “Coercion.”
Tension mounted in the back of his neck. He rubbed a knotted muscle, but it didn’t help. “I’ll think about the partnership thing.” And he’d talk to Trace and Dare…
“Yeah.” Her gaze went to his hand. “You do that.”
With nothing else to say, Spencer stepped back, and she got into her car. “Whenever you wake up is a pretty loose time frame. Can’t you narrow it down a little?”
She put the key in the ignition. “I don’t know. Let’s say between 5:00 a.m. and noon.”
Would she sneak in again and watch him sleep? Not like he’d even be able to sleep with that possibility looming.
He gripped the frame of the open window. “I can track you down, you know. I can find out where you’re staying.”
“You think so?” She turned the key—and nothing happened. With a frown, she said, “We’ll see.”
And she tried the car again.
Dead. Completely.
Relieved, Spencer stepped back, wondering how she’d react.
It was something to see, the way her brows pulled down, her eyes glittered, and angry color flooded her face. She pumped the gas, tried again and, after visibly gathering steam, opened her car door and stepped out. She slammed her door. Hard.
It didn’t take a genius to see she was pissed. Really pissed. The darkening sky had nothing on her.
Deadpan, he asked, “Car won’t start?”
Her locked teeth sawed together. “Let’s go.”
Fascinating. He’d never seen a woman as visually expressive as Arizona. “Where to, exactly?”
“Back inside.” She headed that way but said over her shoulder, “Unless you want me to lose it out here, for all your nice, domestic neighbors to witness.”
“Inside it is.” A little amused, a lot pleased, he trailed behind her.
Unfortunately, Marla stepped out to her porch. Wearing a low-cut top and a look of censure, she opened her mouth, and Arizona swung around to her, snarling, “Don’t.” She sucked in a breath. “Just…don’t.” After that dire warning, she stormed on into his house.
Marla stood there looking hurt.
Double damn. Apologetic, Spencer said to her, “Sorry. She’s having a bad day.”
Marla’s impressive chest heaved a little. “I suppose she’ll have a better night?”
“Marla,” he chided. “I told you it wasn’t like that—for you or her.”
She gathered herself. “I don’t understand you.”
“You do, you just don’t want to.”
“It was good between us.”
“Yes.” And maybe if he hadn’t met Arizona…but he had. “I need to go.”
“Wait!” She licked her lips. “Do you think it’s going to storm?”
With a quick glance at the sky, he said, “Probably.” He knew right where this was going. “Your roof’s still leaking?”
“Yes.” She leaned on the railing, deliberately giving him an eyeful of cleavage. “It’s the ceiling in my bedroom. Any…suggestions?”
“Yeah. Put out a few buckets—and call a repairman as soon as you can. With these old roofs, they’re as likely to cave in as leak.” He’d have felt guilty for not offering any real help, except that her roof had been bad since winter, and she didn’t repair it because she’d rather use it as a female ploy to get him back in bed.
Giving her a salute, Spencer went in. He’d barely gotten the door shut before Arizona was there, rising on tiptoe to blast him.
* * *
IN BATTLE MODE, Arizona jabbed him hard in the chest with one finger. “You told Jackson!”
“No.” With his good mood quickly souring, he stepped around her.
She grabbed his arm. “You did! You said something to him, and that’s why he disabled my car.”
Infusing iron in his tone, Spencer said, “You realize you’re calling me a liar, right?”
But she was too angry to relent. “I trusted you!”
“Baloney! You’re about as trusting as a junkyard dog.”
She gasped.
“But I did not tell Jackson, and I’d appreciate it if you’d quit yelling like a kid having a temper tantrum!”
Since he’d ended with his own yelling, the insult was ludicrous at best.
Fury colored her face and kept her eyes narrowed. “Okay, fine. Let’s just see.” And for an additional dig, she said, “Jackson will tell me the truth.”
“You’re going to call him?” That worked fine by him. She’d be the one to let her erstwhile protector know the score, and at the same time she’d learn the truth. Spencer gestured at her. “Feel free.”
“I will!” She dug out her cell phone from her back pocket and hit a speed dial number.
Because he didn’t want to miss a word, Spencer said, “Dare you to put it on speaker phone.”
“Feeling nosy?” she sneered.
“I don’t trust you to admit to my acquittal.” He almost smiled, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist his taunt. “Or are you afraid of what I’ll hear?”
* * *
“HA!” KEEPING HER ANGRY GAZE locked on his, Arizona hit the speaker button. Her car was dead, and she knew it wasn’t by accident. She’d been around Jackson too long to miss the signs of interference.
Because she hadn’t used the emergency number, Jackson answered with a greeting, instead of silence. “Hey, Arizona. What’s up?”
At the sound of his voice, she brightened with triumph. “What did you do to my car?” Did they really think they could bully her? That she was too dumb to recognize how they worked? Fat chance. She wasn’t an idiot.
“What’s that?” A new alertness entered Jackson’s tone. “Something’s wrong with your car?”
Uh-oh. He sounded pretty sincere. “No use denying it,” she pressed. “I know you disabled it somehow.”
“Not me. Alani and I are at dinner with Dare and Molly.” And then with suspicion, “Where did you say you are?”
Crap. Was it possible that the car’s battery had died somehow? It didn’t seem likely.
“Arizona?”
Deflated, she admitted, “I’m at Spencer’s.”
“Yeah?” A smile sounded through the call. “Doing what?”
“Never mind.” Oh, this was awkward. And Spencer looked so smug. “My car won’t start. It’s totally dead. You sure you didn’t tamper with it?”
“Why would I? What are you up to— Oh, wait.”
She heard muted voices, a brief conversation, and then Jackson came back on the line. “Reckon it was Trace.” And before she could get riled about that, he said, “Why didn’t you remind me that it was your birthday?”
No! No, no, no. How did he realize it now? She groaned, long and dramatic.
“Stop that,” Jackson said. “You should have told me. More to the point, I should have remembered.” His voice deepened. “I’m sorry that I’ve been distracted.”
“Don’t.” Her throat closed up. She absolutely would not look at Spencer. “You’re getting married, for crying out loud. You’re going to be a dad. You have enough on your mind already.”
“That’s not a good excuse.”
She needed to end this, and fast. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t.”
Time to shoot off in a new direction. “What did Dare tell you? Why does he think it was Trace?”
“Spencer talked to Trace.”
Aha! “That—”
“And Trace told Dare. But no one told me because you swore everyone to secrecy, and I have to tell you, that annoys the hell out of me.”
“Oh. Umm…” She could practically feel Spencer gloating. “Yeah, about that. It’s just that I…”
“You were supposed to be researching, hon. For me. You were not supposed to branch off on your own.”
“Well, I…”
“Don’t compound it now by fibbing to me.” He laughed as he said that, removing any real insult. “I’m glad you’re there with Spencer, and I’m doubly glad you had enough sense to get him involved rather than charging into a mess alone.”
“I’m nothing if not cautious.” Even she winced at the sarcasm.
“Yeah. Cautious. That’s exactly how I’d describe you.”
“Jackson—”
He cut her off to say, “Trace dicked with your car because he wants you to stay put, so that’s what you’ll do.” He spoke over her again before she could get started. “Otherwise I’ll have to uproot my tired butt from this nice dinner with my pregnant fiancée and friends, and you know you don’t want me to do that.”
No, she didn’t. Turning her back on Spencer, she whispered, “I can’t stay here.”
Obtuse to the bitter end, Jackson asked, “Why not?”
Almost at the same time, Spencer said, “Why not?”
She groaned again. Men! “I don’t want to, that’s why.”
Jackson discounted her reasoning. “C’mon, Arizona. You know that once you start snooping, you have to cover your ass. That means you have to alter your routine, avoid your normal stomping ground, and for certain you can’t go back to whatever hole-in-the-wall you were using to bed down. That’s not how it’s done, honey.”
Yeah, she knew that. She had planned to hop to another motel for the night. She even had her overnight bag in the car. “I’m not dumb, you know.”
“Definitely not. But you are jumping the gun. Any operation requires planning.” There was more muted conversation before Jackson laughed and came back to her. “Dare says that Trace has it under wraps, and before you feel guilty about that, he says it’s a job they’d already started before you tripped in.”
“Really?” That got her intrigued. “So I was right? It’s a cover for a trafficking ring?”
“Most likely, but it’s too soon to know for sure, and it’s definitely too soon to tip our hand. The sting is still in preliminary research.” His voice lowered. “Put Spencer on the phone.”
“No.” Hell, no.
“Arizona…”
Her shoulders were so stiff, they ached. “I don’t need anyone to babysit me. I’m fine.”
“You’ll stay put?”
“Mmm…maybe.” It’d depend on what Spencer said and what he had planned. The men might be world-class protectors, but she knew she could look after herself.
Jackson sighed and then said, “Hang on, hon.”
Seconds later, Spencer’s cell phone rang. He grinned at her as he answered.
Un-freaking-believable.
And his phone wasn’t on speaker, so she could only hear one side of the conversation.
Spencer said, “Yeah, hey. Sure. That’s what I figured.” He nodded. “Do my best, that’s all I can promise. Yeah, okay. I would’ve done that anyway.”
Arizona thought her hair might stand on end. When Jackson came back, she growled, “Satisfied?”
“Getting there.” And in a lower voice, “Happy birthday, honey.”
Oh. Heat rushed up her neck. “Yeah, uh, thanks.”
“I promise I won’t forget again.”
She rolled her eyes. “Aren’t men supposed to forget that stuff?”
“No.”
Sheesh, did he have to sound so offended? “Look, don’t sweat it, okay? Spencer got a cake and everything.”
“Everything?” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “Well, I owe you a gift, and no, don’t argue. Alani will enjoy helping me pick it out. We’ll hook up soon, okay?”
Feeling desperate, she was quick to say, “Not necessary, Jackson. I know you’re busy with your wedding prep and—”
Again, he paid no attention to her protests. “We’ll invite Spencer. Dare said this weekend would work at his house. What do you think?”
Oh, Gawd! He’d cornered her. “Look, I don’t—”
“Great. Saturday at two. Bring a bathing suit and we’ll hang at the lake. Do it up picnic style. Sound good?” Before she could answer, he said, “So we’re all set. But now I need to go before my steak gets cold.”
She wanted to deny him and his weekend plans, but she didn’t want to keep him from his meal. “Okay, fine.” She was such a dolt. Somehow she’d find a way around things—especially the bathing suit part of it all. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“You didn’t.” There was a slight hesitation and then: “Love ya.”
Happiness filled her heart. She swallowed back a swell of emotion. Keeping her back to Spencer, she said, “Love you, too.”
After she pocketed the phone, she had no idea what to do. The moment was so awkward that she wanted to crawl off and hide.
Then Spencer said, “Told you so.”
His self-righteous tone brought her snapping around. “You told Trace!”
He shrugged that off. “But only Trace…so you owe me an apology.”
She opened her mouth to blast him…and then shut it again. Yeah, she did owe him. Grudgingly, she muttered, “Sorry.”
His hand touched her chin, lifted her face. “I won’t ever lie to you, Arizona.”
Not for a second would she believe that. “Everyone lies. Big lies, little lies. No one is honest all the time.”
“Including you?”
Especially her. She folded her arms under her breasts. “When necessary, I fudge things.”
“I won’t. Not with you.”
Feeling herself waffle, Arizona looked around, wondering what to do now. Humiliation rolled over her. She’d disrupted everyone with her plans, when she’d really only wanted to disrupt Spencer.
That truth made her frown at herself.
He thought the frown was directed at him. “I had to tell Trace. You’re smart, Arizona. You know that.”
“And you knew that Trace would tell Jackson.”
He crossed his arms, mimicking her stance. “You’re distorting the facts. Trace said he wouldn’t tell Jackson, and he didn’t. He told Dare. And Dare didn’t tell Jackson until you called up and spilled the beans. So exonerate me. I held to my end of the bargain—so far as I could, anyway.”
She shook her head in denial—but it was true. Somehow, deep down, she’d known he would alert the others. “Why do you guys have this sick need to protect misfits?”
“Is that it?” He put his big hands on her shoulders. He didn’t draw her closer, he just offered…support. “You’re concerned about what Trace will think?”
“I know what he thinks. That I’m pathetic and I need a keeper.”
He gave her a speculative look. “You’ve met Priss, Trace’s wife.”
“Yeah, so?” Priss was self-confident and funny, and Trace loved her a lot.
“Priss’s life wasn’t all roses, you know. Actually, no roses, just thorns.”
The boys had been talking, it seemed. Had Jackson told Spencer about Priss? Had he told him about Dare’s wife, Molly, too? “What’s your point?”
“I told Trace because we need backup if we’re going to do this—”
“We are.” He couldn’t change his mind on her now. She needed to stay busy, and she needed to feel as if she made a difference.
And…she kind of liked being around Spencer—but she wasn’t about to admit it to him.
“Trace understands what you’re going through.” He gave her a gentle shake. “You and Priss have a lot in common. And if you think he pities his wife, you haven’t seen the two of them together.”
“I’ve seen them.” While Jackson was easygoing—most of the time—Trace could be very heavy-handed. Yet Priss matched him in every way. Anyone could see that pity was the last thing Trace felt for Priss. “They make a nice couple.”
“Yes, they do.” His thumbs rubbed over her shoulders. “Fact is, you’re looking at this all wrong. You’re so busy defending your independence, and bearing that massive chip on your shoulder, that you’ve forgotten how it’s done.”
“It?”
“The whole undercover, covert, infiltration gig. You think Jackson ever approaches these situations alone? Or Trace or Dare? They always work as a team.”
For him to know that, they had to have done a lot of talking. Did Jackson really trust him so much? Apparently.
She raised her chin. “You don’t.”
“Until recently, I hadn’t tampered in their league. The busts I made as a bounty hunter were small beans in comparison to what they do. But now, with human trafficking rings that have reach across the country, even out of the country, you can bet your sweet little butt that I wouldn’t get in too deep without knowing someone else was on board, watching to make sure neither of us disappears.”
Because that all made sense, Arizona paced away—and immediately felt the loss of Spencer’s touch.
Standing where she’d left him in the middle of the floor, he waited.
She knew she’d relent. Heck, she didn’t even want to go. Not really. But she wasn’t quite ready to tell him that yet. “What did Jackson say to you?”
“He wanted me to follow you if you left, and to tail you all night if necessary.” When her eyes widened, he added, “And I would have. I will—if you don’t stay.”
Going to the window, Arizona watched the rain start to fall. If she was going to get her bag, she should do it now.
From right behind her, his tone compelling, Spencer said, “Stay.”
“You said you wouldn’t lie.”
“I won’t.”
“Okay, then…” Turning to face him, she asked in a rush, “If you’re not trying to have sex with me, then why are you doing all this? Why are you being so…concerned and caring, and protective and understanding and stuff?”
“All that?” A smile flickered over his mouth. “Okay, the truth. I want you to see a better way of things. I want you to be able to move on—”
Move on? “As in, be with some dude? Seriously?” The idea was so ludicrous, she laughed. “What, like in a marriage and all that? Not happening.”
“Doesn’t have to be marriage.” His gaze moved over her face to her mouth and then back to her eyes. “Could just be a date.”
“And you think dates are fun?”
He drew a short breath. “Most of the time, sure.”
“You’ve had dates with Marla?”
“Ah…no.”
“Just sex, huh?”
“Arizona…”
“And sex is fun?”
His gaze locked on hers. “Yes.”
“Will you tell me about it?”
Face muscles tightened as he flexed his jaw. “What do you want to know?”
So many things, she hardly knew where to begin. “Is it the same with Marla as it was with your wife?”
His eyes darkened with disbelief and, maybe, sadness. “If you mean are women interchangeable, no. Not to good men. Not when a man cares about a woman.”
That riled her. “So you care about Marla?”
“Not at all like I cared about my wife, no. But as a nice person, yes, of course I do.” Putting his hands on his hips, he dropped his head forward, then gave in to a short laugh. “God, this is an awkward conversation.”
She didn’t care. He offered to explain, and she wanted to hear it, so she waited.
After releasing a long breath, he met her gaze again. “I was up front with Marla. I didn’t lead her on. I haven’t led on any woman.”
Including her? His bet would curtail her language—but gain him a kiss if she slipped up. Was that really all he wanted? “So with Marla, it was sex, but only sex, huh?”
“It’s not always about love.”
“Boy, do I know that!”
“Sometimes,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “the pleasure is enough.”
“If you say so.” She had her doubts about any real pleasure, though. She sure hadn’t experienced it. “So how many women have there been?”
He made a sound of disgust. “They were few and far between. But I am a grown man, Arizona.”
So defensive. Sharp with derision, she said, “And you have needs?”
“Everyone has those needs—including you.” When she started to shake her head, he cut her off. “You do. And that brings us full circle. You know about abuse, but you don’t know anything about the real give-and-take that’s supposed to happen between the sheets.”
“Not always between the sheets.”
He paused. “No.” He took a step closer, then stopped himself. “There are all kinds of sexual encounters, in lots of different places.”
“And different positions?”
“Positions that you should enjoy.” He reached out, but instead of touching her, he pulled back and ended up rubbing the back of his neck. “Only it doesn’t start with sex.”
“No?”
“It starts with an attraction. A mutual attraction.”
“Can’t prove it by me.”
His gaze searched hers, his voice deepened. “I know. That’s my point.”
There was such gravity in his tone, she rolled her eyes. “Go on. Mutual attraction?” she prompted.
Slowly, he nodded. “Flirting, kissing, a touch or two. Foreplay for an hour, or a day. Wanted by both people, and shared by both people.”
That did sound sort of…not awful. “I know that’s how it’s supposed to be.” She wasn’t a total social misfit. She’d seen romantic movies, and she’d seen real life. People walking together, talking together. In sync.
In love.
But he’d just negated the link between love and sex, and she wasn’t sure she could ever trust in casual sex.
Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, he said softly, “It can be really good when both people are willing, eager participants.”
“And you think I need to experience that, huh?”
“You’re a healthy, energetic woman. I’d hate to see deliberate cruelty turn you off from knowing everything that nature intended.”
For reasons she wouldn’t analyze, his attitude irked her. “So let me get this straight. You want to do things to me, to get me all into the idea of screwing—and then you want me to go off to find some other guy to finalize the deal?” She smirked at him. “Know what, Spence? From my side of the table, that sort of makes you sound like a pimp. Only problem is, I can’t figure out what you get from the deal.”