Nick knocked on my door. Right on schedule.

Stan had sent me home after “the incident,” but Nick had to stay. We’d texted to arrange his coming over, and I had questions that neither texts nor a phone call would cover.

I opened the door to the gloriously greasy smell of hamburgers and fries.

“Breakfast.” He thrust the bags forward. “Or dinner? I don’t know at this point.”

“Thanks.” I set the paper bags on the table.

I was about to offer him a beer, but he engulfed me in his arms, pulling me tightly against him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Nick. Are you?” I pushed back so I could see into his eyes. “Is that asshole okay? Is he pressing charges?”

All the fears running through my mind continued to race. Not the least of which was the fear that Frank had been right about Nick. That Nick was a dangerous guy. Violent.

“Guy’s fine,” Nick said. “Not pressing charges. Stan said the owner would take care of it.”

I pushed out of his arms and got a couple of beers from the fridge. He caught me from behind before I could open the bottles, hugging me tight, pressing his face into the hair at my neck.

“Nick.” I bucked at him. “Let go.”

His arms flew off me instantly. “You are hurt.”

“No, but I want to talk before we get… distracted.” I set the beers on the table. “And let’s eat. The food will get cold.”

We tore into the greasy goodness Nick had picked up from an all-night diner near the club, and I was about halfway through my burger when he started to unwrap his second. I took a long swig of my beer and studied him as he ate, trying to decide whether he looked different to me after that violent outburst.

“How many people have you killed?” I asked.

He looked up from his food and stopped chewing mid-bite. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“None.” He chewed and swallowed quickly, chasing it down with beer. “What the fuck, Jade? Why would you think I’d killed someone?”

“You went after that guy pretty hard.”

His back straightened sharply. “He was groping you.”

I backed away from the table, my chair scraping the floor. “So, any man who touches me gets a beating?”

“No.” He shook his head. “The asshole, he had his hands on your ass. Your naked ass. One more second and he’d have had a finger inside you!”

“And that’s the first time a customer’s touched a dancer like that?”

“No.”

“So you’ve beaten up a lot of customers, then.”

He looked scared, unsure how to answer. “I—”

“Melodie said she’d never seen you like that.”

He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I don’t know… I guess I usually just kick them out of the club. Twist an arm behind their back if they put up a fight.” He shook his head. “Fuck. Stan did not look happy tonight. I’m probably going to lose my job.”

“How about outside the club? How many men have you beaten to death?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve heard things…”

He looked up to the ceiling for a moment, then shook his head. “Rumors.”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”

“Listen. I’ve told you about my brothers, right?”

I nodded. This didn’t sound good. Frank was right.

“It helps my family’s business if… If I’ve got a certain reputation.”

“A reputation,” I repeated coldly.

“Yeah.” He pushed back his hair. “As a tough guy. Someone to be feared. If there are rumors that I’ve killed people, then my brothers planted those rumors. It’s nothing.”

Didn’t sound like nothing. “What kind of business are your brothers in, anyway?”

He drew a long breath. “Nothing that bad. Honest. No drugs or guns or anything like that, they just, you know, take things off some people’s hands and you know, sell them to other people.”

“Thieves.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Disappointment permeated my body, landing inside me with so much weight it took me by surprise. This was what happened when you raised your expectations. I was totally blindsided by my reaction.

I hadn’t been looking for a long-term thing with Nick, or with anyone, but I’d let myself hope he was different.

Turned out Nick was a criminal, dashing the possibility of us ever being together, crushing my hope for something I didn’t know I wanted until the option was gone.

I couldn’t believe the wound the letdown had opened.

“Listen.” He leaned forward. “I’ve left all that stuff behind. Gone legit. That’s why I work at the club. I don’t work with my brothers anymore. I’m done with all that.”

“Really?” I wanted to believe him, so badly it hurt. “Then why do people say you’re a killer?”

“Like I said. Rumors.”

“What I saw tonight, that wasn’t a rumor. That shit was real. And fueled by anger. If you can’t control your temper, how do I know you won’t hurt me?”

His eyes widened and he gasped. “Jade. I’d never.”

“Bullshit.” I raised my chin. “I know men like you. You’re violent by nature, set off by anger. Sooner or later I’ll make you mad and you’ll hurt me. With you, I’d never be safe.”

His face went white and he looked like he might bring up his burgers. He hung his head, shaking it side to side. When he raised his gaze, his eyes were glassy. I’d never seen so much hurt in anyone’s eyes, ever.

“Jade. You’ve got to believe me. Tonight was… That wasn’t like me. And I’d never hit you. Never.”

I knew domestic abusers made claims like that all the time… Thing was, I believed Nick. Part of me thought I shouldn’t, but my gut told me that the words coming out of his mouth matched what I knew to be true in my heart. Nick was a gentle man encased in the body of a brute. A gentle giant.

What happened in the club wasn’t evidence of something he’d been hiding, it had been the exception. Melodie’s reaction had corroborated my gut.

I took another sip of beer. It helped clear both my throat and my thoughts. It didn’t matter if the killer stuff wasn’t true. I couldn’t be with a criminal, not after all I’d gone through with my dad.

“Tell me more about your brothers. Who do they work for?” This apartment complex was full of organized-crime types. “Do you work for the Nick who did my dad’s deal?”

He shook his head. “The Downey brothers don’t work for anyone but themselves. Never have. And we—they, my brothers—” He took a deep breath. “They never get into anything too big, or anything that might end up on the cops’ radar. It’s all small stuff. Just enough to live on. Look at us. We’re not rich.”

“Ever done any time?”

“Juvie.”

“What for?”

“Lifting car parts from the Toyota dealership in Oakland. Got caught trying to sell the stuff to a mechanic in Fremont.”

“Were your brothers arrested, too?”

He leaned onto the table. “Mac and Dillon almost did, but they were over eighteen, so I told them to run. I tossed tire rims at the cops to give my brothers time to get away, then pretty much let the cops catch me. The judge said he’d let me off if I snitched, but I didn’t.”

“Very admirable,” I said flatly, and he looked away. I could see the pain in his posture, his eyes, the set of his jaw.

“My brothers,” he said. “We stick together. That’s what families do. I thought you’d understand that.”

I did understand. And that’s what scared me about Nick. “You’re the youngest, right? You got drawn into this by your brothers.”

He turned toward me. “I guess. But it’s not like you’re making it sound. No one forced me.”

“Hard to imagine anyone forcing you into anything.”

“I wasn’t born this big, you know.”

“Thank god—for your mother’s sake, anyway.”

His eyes teared up.

I leaned toward him. “Shit. What did I say?”

He blinked back the tears. “Mom died giving birth to me.”

“Oh, Nick.” I reached for his hand and our fingers entwined.

“It was preeclampsia. Nothing to do with me. But that didn’t stop my brothers from jabbing me about it.”

“Jabbing you?”

He shook his head. “Just kid stuff. Called me a mom killer. Beat me up. Like you said. I was the youngest. I got picked on a lot.” Letting go of my hand, he stood and then dropped down onto the sofa, sideways, leaving one foot on the ground and stretching the other leg out.

He took the last sip of his beer, and I got us both another from the fridge. When I handed his to him, he lifted his other hand to my waist.

I sat between his open legs and leaned against his chest.

“What kinds of things did your brothers do when you were little?”

“I can’t remember.”

“Come on. You must remember some things.”

He drained about half his beer. “I dunno. I was the smallest. They made me do their chores. They could pretty much make me do whatever they wanted. Not that I really minded. I looked up to them, especially Keagan.”

“Sounds like you still look up to Keagan.”

“Guess I do. He’s my big brother.” He set his beer on the floor.

“Did they ever hurt you?” I ran my finger along a thin scar on his forearm.

“Sure.” A short laugh burst from his chest. “We used to play this game, like tag, except when you got caught you got tied up against this tree in the backyard. The other guys threw stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I dunno.” His fingers trailed up my arm. “Stuff. Dirt, crab apples, balls, rocks, whatever was around. Tools.”

“Tools? Like hammers?”

“Sure. Screwdrivers, pliers, whatever Da left around.”

“That’s dangerous. You guys could have killed each other.”

“Brothers do that kind of stuff.” His fingers stroked my back. “They got me good a few times, though. Couple of times knocked me out.”

“Knocked you out?”

“By accident.” He shifted. “After that, they laid off me for a while. Got to the point where I hoped for a head shot, so I could fake passing out.”

“That’s nuts!” I was suddenly glad I’d had only a sister. “And you threw stuff at your brothers, too?”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean, you guess?”

“I’m the youngest.”

“You were always the one caught and tied up?”

“Pretty much. Maybe Shane a few times. Not sure.” He grunted. “But the tables turned when I hit my growth spurt.”

“When was that?”

“Around fourteen. Keagan was already an adult by then, 18 or 19.”

“Wait.” I turned to lie sideways on his chest so I could see his face. “You’re telling me that there are five of you, and the age span is only four years?”

“Five. Nearly five and a half, and Mac and Dill are twins.”

“Wow. And your dad was on his own after you were born.”

“Yup.”

“Starting to understand the lack of discipline.”

“Guess we were pretty wild.” His fingers traced circles on the small of my back.

“But you’re done with all that.”

“Playing tag and tossing things at my brothers’ heads?”

I smirked. “The stealing. Whatever you used to do for your brothers.”

“I was mostly the lookout. A few times when we highjacked trucks, I’d, um… Let’s just say my size and reputation helped convince the drivers to get out of the cab. Brute Squad. That’s me.”

“Brute Squad?”

“From The Princess Bride. I’m the Brute Squad.”

“Were the Brute Squad,” I corrected.

“Yeah, right.”

“You just said you were done with it. Was that a lie?”

“No.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I told my brothers I was done. A while ago. Before I met you…”

That was a relief, yet nerves woke new fears.

I was happy with his answer, but not my question. I’d sounded like a girlfriend, or a wife. That’s not what we were. Were we? Full-blown panic invaded.

“Not that I get a say in what you do,” I said quickly. “I don’t care…”

His shoulders jerked back.

Fuck. I was treading in waters—with huge rapids—I lacked the skills to navigate. “Of course I care what happens to you, Nick. I don’t want to see you in jail.” I closed my eyes for a second. “But I don’t have any right—”

“Jade.” He held my face in his hands. “It’s okay if you care what happens to me. I like that you do. I care what happens to you.” He shook his head. “Maybe a little too much, like tonight. Seeing you on stage like that—”

“Now you’re saying I can’t be a dancer?”

“That’s not what I said.”

My emotions were flip-flopping like crazy. I expected him to be frustrated, even angry, but he stayed calm, patient as we talked this out.

I liked that he cared about me and my life. I just wasn’t sure I liked that I liked it.

I was independent—a badass—and letting Nick in was chipping away at the person I thought I was. I had never let anyone but a boss tell me what to do. And even with bosses, I had pretty hard limits.

“Sorry.” I shifted against him and lay my head on his chest. “I know I’m all over the place. Guess I have a knee-jerk reaction when someone tells me what to do.”

“I’d never tell you what to do, Jade, but I care, so I have opinions.” His hand stroked my thigh. “I want that to be okay with you. Just like it’s okay for you to have opinions about my life.”

That sounded an awful lot like a relationship, but instead of putting me off, his words spawned warm fuzzies in my belly. And down lower.

“My dad was a two-bit criminal.” I needed Nick to understand all my crazy. “He was always around crime, organized crime—doing favors, lookout stuff, giving and getting information. But mostly he was a petty thief. Broke into places…”

I snuggled under his arm. “Frank stayed on the fringes of the gangster life, but I saw what a toll it took—on his life, on Crystal’s and mine. He was always in and out of jail, never able to find a good job, always afraid of being caught, even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong. I can’t…” I can’t ever be with a criminal.

I couldn’t quite say the words. Not because it wasn’t true, but because of what the words implied—that I wanted to be with Nick, that I was thinking about him in those terms—long-term. That I was thinking about forever.

Nick cupped my face with his hands, lifting my gaze to meet his. “I already quit doing stuff with my brothers, but even if I hadn’t, I would now. You make me want to be better, Jade.

“I get that you won’t be with a criminal. You’re too good for that, and it’s one of the things I love about you. And after what you’ve gone through with your dad…” He kissed me softly. “Don’t worry. I’m out of that life.”

One of the things he loved about me… The word love filled my chest as his kiss erased my fears, taking me to places even more foreign and wonderful than sleeping over.

And I liked it. I loved it. I might even love Nick. But it all seemed too much to contemplate at once. Too scary to imagine. I needed to lighten the mood…

I pulled back from the kiss. “Hey, you’re still my sex slave for the rest of the week, right?”

He nodded. “What is your command?”

I grinned. “You. On the bed. Now.”