Chapter Three
Charlie
Camping hadn’t improved in the ten years since I’d last pitched a tent. In fact, I woke up groggy and grouchy, having tossed and turned in my too-hot then too-cold tent. I didn’t understand the appeal. Brie and Tom already sat around the campfire with coffee in hand. The other three guys hadn’t crawled out of their tents yet. I bet Brie would try and set me up with one of them before the weekend was out, but she’d be disappointed. I didn’t want a man. Men were unreliable heartbreakers.
My mom and dad had a terrific relationship, which made it all the more important for me to do it right, not get stuck with a loser. Besides, I’d already found and lost my one true love, and I didn’t believe I’d be lucky enough or stupid enough to find a second.
“I slept so well, nothing like the outdoors.” Brie said this with a straight face.
“It’s lumpy, bumpy and always the wrong temperature,” I groused. “But I survived the night, only one more to go.”
Tom grinned at me. “So you’re not a convert.”
“Not even a little. But I love the water, always have. We should’ve shelled out the cash for cabins.”
“Then you should hook up with one of the brothers.” Tom winked at me. “The bikers have almost all the cabins rented out for the weekend, in addition to the ones they own. The Jericho Brotherhood is hosting a poker run and after-party.”
“We’re thinking about doing the poker run. You in?” Brie smiled at me.
“Is it like a 10K?” I didn’t have a clue about poker runs.
Tom laughed. “No, lots more booze, lot less PT.”
I frowned at the two of them.
“There are five stops, and you get a card at each stop. The people or person with the best hand at the end wins cash,” Tom explained.
“Yeah and the proceeds go to help Hope House, the runaway shelter up home,” Brie added.
“Normally you go from place to place on bike, but the Brotherhood organized this one so you can go by boat,” Tom added.
Those bikers again. Maybe I’d get lucky and not run into Marcone.
“That’s what we’re going to do, but we gotta pay the entry fee. So you in?” Tom and Brie both waited for my answer.
“On a boat? Then hell yeah.” That was why I was here, and that I lost the bet.
“I’ll text JoJo, he’s running the thing.” Tom typed out a quick message on his phone.
So much for avoiding him. “So you know Marcone too?” The guy knew everyone.
“Yeah, I know several of the guys in the club. They’re quick to take action if anyone’s moving drugs in their area. Sometimes that means tips to us.” Tom frowned at me. “You got a thing for him?”
“She should have.” Brie waggled her eyebrows.
“No,” I said at the same time.
The others emerged from their tents a little later. They were cops who worked with Tom on the drug taskforce. I’d met them all before but hadn’t spent any real time with them, and I didn’t really want to, but this whole weekend was one thing after another that I didn’t want to do.
Deciding to take a walk, I exchanged my boat shoes for hiking boots and headed off to do some exploring. The tall trees that lined the hiking path created a dappled shadow that comforted me. I’d spent a lot of time walking off my emotions since Jensen died. I could walk to the sun and back and still not rid myself of the regret and anger.
That morning Jensen had stayed over at my place. He’d kissed me and told me he loved me before hurrying out for his shift. I’d been on nights then and was barely awake. I’d just dressed for the night when my doorbell rang. Daddy had been there with the saddest look I’d ever seen on his grizzled face. He’d sat me down and told me. Jensen had died going after a suspect. The guy had shot him in the chest. Jensen had shot the guy, but it didn’t change the fact it had cost him his life—our life. My life froze that day and it hadn’t really started again.
I shut off that line of thinking and focused on the beauty surrounding me. The smell of water mingled with the spring day was my definition of happiness. By the time, I’d returned to camp, my mood had lightened and I was excited about a day on the boat.
The sunlight bounced off a shiny black motorcycle parked by Brie’s SUV. Whose bike was that? Motorcycles had always intrigued me in a morbid kind of way. Death traps was what Jensen called them but I bet it was exciting to speed through the night on one. Not that Brie would ever ride one, let alone drive a motorcycle—she didn’t do reckless. Danger was entirely different than being reckless. She’d walk into a firefight with guns blazing because she’d been trained and knew the risks. It was her job to analyze risks and stop the reckless who broke the law.
“Hey, Charlie, you in for the poker run?” Brie waved me over.
Joe Marcone stood beside Tom and his friends.
Brie hustled my way. “He’s so damn hot and he’s friends with Tom, so he can’t be a bad guy, even if he is a biker.”
My pulse had spiked as soon as I spied Marcone but that didn’t mean I wanted to jump him. Okay, maybe the idea did excite me, but I definitely wasn’t acting on it. Besides, I didn’t do casual sex with coworkers or colleagues—okay, if I was honest, I’d never had a friend with benefits relationship, let alone a one-night stand. No way was I taking a walk on the wild side with a biker.
“Drop it.”
Brie gave me her stubborn glare that had her chin jutting in my direction. “You didn’t die too, it’s time to live again.”
My eyes watered as I sucked in a fast breath trying to recover from Brie’s verbal punch. I would not cry. I’d promised myself no more tears and I hadn’t cried about Jensen in more than six months. She wouldn’t make me break. I dug in the back pocket of my shorts and pulled out three twenties for the poker run.
“Tom already paid.”
I thrust the money out. “Take this and stay the fuck out of my business. You’re way over the line.”
She clasped the money as I strode away. I needed distance to bring my temper under control and rein in the emotions Brie unleashed. I walked a tight wire every day, trying not to fall into the gray depths of hopelessness. I always felt it lurking just below me, hungry for more of my soul. I didn’t think I could manage my balancing act if I added one more tiny thing, let alone the huge weight of a man, even one I only wanted for one night. No, I was safer this way.
“Charlie.” Marcone jogged up beside me. “You in for the poker run with Fisher and Brie?”
I stopped and glared up, a long way up at him. He made me feel like a dwarf at five four. “Yeah, I’m in. Although I’d rather be working the Logan case.”
“Fuck, I know that’s right.” He shook his head. “Worst damn time for me to have to play host.” Genuine frustration laced his words.
“I thought you’d be down to party, isn’t that the biker thing?”
“Biker thing?” He shot me a strange look I couldn’t read.
I lifted a shoulder, feeling a bit self-conscious now that he’d called me on my bias.
“You interested in trying the biker thing?” He arched a dark brow, looking good enough to lick in his muscle shirt. I had a serious weakness for muscles, and my fingers itched to glide down his chest.
“Not my style.” I blew out a breath.
“What is your style?” He turned to face me.
“Don’t have one these days.” I met his almost black eyes. Big mistake. Interest and intensity radiated from him.
“Then I might be just your style. If you’re brave enough?” His face lit up with his smile.
My gut clenched. He’d gone from sexy to irresistible with the smile—make that almost irresistible.
“I’m not stupid enough.” Shit, I hadn’t meant to say that.
But he laughed a low sexy rumble that only made me want him more. “I guess that means you don’t want to ride on the back of my bike...for the poker run.” His teasing smile said he knew I wanted him.
Good thing I didn’t give in to all my desires or my ass would be six times bigger and he’d be in my bed. “Not in a million years.” I returned his smile. “You get any leads on Archer Logan?” I needed a new topic.
“Not a whisper, which is new for me.”
“Because everyone bends to your will?” That sounded like flirting. I was not flirting with the Italian Stallion.
“Obviously not.” He nodded toward me. “But I always get what I hunt.” His gaze settled on me.
“Is that a warning?” I challenged him.
“No, I only make promises. See ya around, Charlie.” He gave me a two-finger salute and sauntered toward his bike.
Damn, his ass was a perfect tight ball of sexy that filled out his Levi’s in the best way. Not that it mattered, I had a will of iron and some sexy bit of biker wouldn’t change my mind.
I headed to my tent to change into my bikini and cover-up before we left for the poker run. Vince, one of the guys who worked with Tom, loitered in the camp, the rest had already headed to the dock to get the boat ready.
“Damn, you got a nice pair of legs.” Vince greeted me.
“I like that they work. Real good at kicking asses.” I stared him down.
“Shit, no problem if you aren’t interested, no need to threaten a man.” He held his hands up and stepped back.
I grunted and hurried past him. I wasn’t even tempted by Vince’s blond hotness, but Marcone still had me worked up. And I didn’t like it one bit.
I followed the path to the boat dock and onto Tom’s speedboat. “I want to ski.”
“You can ski on the way to the first cove—party cove no less.” Brie laughed. “The Brotherhood set up kegs there just for the run.”
After Tom backed the boat out and made it to the center of the lake, he turned back to me. “Get your ass in the water.”
I threw out the skis and ropes then dived in after them. After I’d locked my feet in the water skis, I grabbed the leads and nodded to the guy on lookout duty. Tom sped up and I stood, enjoying the wind and spray of water hitting my face. I only wished I could go faster. Too soon my legs wobbled and my arms began to noodle. I dropped to the water and the boat slowed and turned to pick me up. Someone else took my place on the skis.
It took us about forty minutes to hit the first poker run stop. Tom anchored the boat offshore and we waded to land. We’d beaten the bikes but a handful of boaters had made it here already. A big guy in a cut stood at the makeshift bar, handing out cards.
“Hey, Thorn, how’s it hanging?” Tom gave the giant a slap on the back.
“Dude, at least a foot long.” Thorn’s deep laugh made his whole body shake.
“What is it with dudes and dick jokes?” Brie elbowed me in the ribs. “We don’t make boob jokes.”
“’Cause, baby, everyone can see what you have.” Tom snaked an arm around her.
“And we are left waiting to see how much you don’t have.” I laughed at my own joke and Brie joined me.
The men gave us wounded to outraged looks, but I didn’t care.
“Beer is over there. Blackjack is going on over there.” Thorn pointed to three tables where bikini-clad girls sat behind folding tables. “Two hours until the next stop opens.”
Bikes roared, and it was a few minutes before I saw the motorcycle parade heading our way. Marcone led the way, and my captain rode beside him. I had no idea Captain Danvers would be here.
“Why didn’t you say they were friends?” I hissed to Brie.
“Does it matter?” She frowned at me. “Let’s get to the blackjack table before all the spots are gone.” She pulled me after her.
Of course it mattered. I came from a proud police family who’d taught me the value of connections at an early age. The force was a political animal, and it was best to stay on friendly terms with the beast or it’d chew you up and spit you out. If Marcone was tight with Danvers then I needed to watch my step. I’d always loved to put things in bins. Good. Bad. Right. Wrong. Gray wasn’t my friend, and Marcone was the most annoying shade of gray, the one that shifted from light to dark depending on how you looked at it.