WORRY? HOW COULD HE NOT? Arizona showed no caution, no real understanding of the risk involved. She acted as if it was all fun and games, showing the same enthusiasm for cutthroat danger that most young ladies her age gave to a shopping spree.
She might not comprehend the temptation she presented in her sexier clothes, but he knew, and the reality of it chewed on his conscience. No matter what the final reward might be, dangling her out there for traffickers to drool over didn’t sit right.
It felt more wrong by the moment.
“You look p.o.’d.” With her good mood dwindling, she tipped her head at him. “What’d I do wrong now?”
“Not a thing.” It wasn’t what she had done as much as how she faced the world—recklessly, with no consideration for her own safety or limitations. Spencer had no idea how to rein her in. At times he wondered if such a thing was possible.
“Hmm.” She shocked him with a suggestive look. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mood says another.”
What the hell is she up to now? Treading carefully, he said, “Unlike you, I understand that the best laid plans have a tendency to go sideways.”
“Poor Spencer.” She eyed his chest, lower. “Did you want me to fall apart?”
He scowled at her husky tone. “Of course not.” What was she thinking about that had her sounding so breathless? “You don’t need to be overly worried, but a degree of caution would be welcome.”
“So…” Deliberately teasing and intimate, she leaned toward him. “How much caution does it take to make you chill?” She stroked the side of his neck, threaded her fingers into his hair.
The touch froze him, left him so taut he felt ready to break. Spencer concentrated on driving—and on not getting a boner.
“Would it make you feel better,” she continued, “if I was a little scared, maybe a little needy?”
“God, no.” She’d lived enough of her life in fear. As his body stirred, he locked his teeth. “But you don’t have to be so damn happy about it, either.”
Her cool fingers moved over his neck. “Is that what attracted you to Marla?”
“What?” Following along wasn’t easy, not while she touched him without fear. Not when her posture showed off her cleavage. Not with her voice all husky and deep.
Crossing her legs, she went more or less sideways in the seat to better face him. “Marla.” In contrast to what she said, she turned her hand and drifted her knuckles over his jaw, under his chin. “Were you drawn to her because she’s a typically helpless female?”
With her skirt hiking even higher, of course he looked at her legs. Again. They were so smooth, slim but shapely. And he could almost imagine them open to him or wrapped around his waist.
Or warm against his jaw…
Damn.
On the one hand, it surprised Spencer that Arizona would utilize blatant female ploys. But on the other hand…he knew better than to ever underestimate her. She used those ploys for a reason…he had to figure out why.
Unsure of her endgame, he took care with his reply. The last thing he wanted to do was make Marla more of a target; Arizona already didn’t like her. “She’s a successful Realtor, an independent woman who owns her own home. I wouldn’t call that helpless.” But Marla did like to play off the idea of a single woman alone. More often than not, the ruse compelled him to lend a hand.
“Maybe for her, calculating is a better word choice, then.”
“Is that jealousy talking?” Given Arizona’s mercurial mood swings, he had reason to worry.
Finally drawing her hand away, Arizona scowled. “Why would I be jealous?”
“I have no idea. She’s just a neighbor—”
“That you slept with.”
Right. Definitely tones of jealousy. Figuring her out could take a lifetime. “I’ve slept with a lot of women…”
Affront stiffened her spine. “Big whoop. I’ve slept with—”
“Don’t.” Muscles suddenly tense, Spencer worked his jaw. He did not want her drawing comparisons between consensual sex and human trafficking. “It’s not the same thing.”
Gently, she whispered, “Yeah, I know.” She retreated to look out the window.
He missed her touch, especially since she’d replaced it with the chill of her cold shoulder. “What are you up to?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Something,” he corrected.
Her mouth pursed, her eyes narrowed. “Forget it.”
Like hell. “Arizona…”
Shaking off her melancholy, she cut in to say, “Don’t forget to drop me off near a bus stop so I can arrive separate from you.”
He flexed his hands on the steering wheel. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of being an ass.”
He paused before pointing out, “Now you owe me two.”
“Kisses? Good. Great.”
That earned her another double take. “Is that a joke?”
Her blue-eyed gaze gave away her simmering temper. “Why not?” In a tone more flippant than not, she curled her lip and said, “You kiss like a schoolboy anyway.”
Well, hell. He hadn’t seen that coming. “Let me make sure I understand this.” He glanced at her elevated chin. “You’re complaining about how I’ve kissed you?”
She didn’t deny or confirm that. “Maybe I should really let you have it, and go for an even dozen.”
“Kisses?” His heart punched into his ribs. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
Mulish, she crossed her arms, swung her foot in agitation and went back to staring out the window.
“Come on, honey.” He turned down the route toward where Dare waited. He’d ensure that Arizona made it onto the bus without issue, and then Dare would tail her to the bar. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
“Until you started admiring Marla, I was having a good time.”
“I wasn’t admiring her.” Just like a woman to twist things around. “You asked a question and I answered it.”
“Whatever.”
That flippant response annoyed him even more. “Forget about Marla already, will you?” He didn’t want her walking into the bar pissed off over nonsense. He wanted, needed, for her to bring her A-game by being calm and collected. “For the last time, she’s only a neighbor.”
“Hey, I hear you, but I don’t think Marla got the memo.”
“God Almighty, woman. Seriously? We don’t have enough to keep us occupied tonight without you picking a fight?”
Going still, she stared at him, then groaned. She dropped her head back and closed her eyes. “Yeah, all right.” A second or two passed, and she half laughed. “I didn’t mean to ruin things by nitpicking.”
“Things?”
She flagged a hand between them. “The little picnic was nice.”
Exasperation got the better of him. “Eating fast food in the front of a truck at a deserted park prior to using yourself as bait to draw in the worst type of creep doesn’t count as a picnic.”
She blinked at that long string of nonsense. “Oh, well…” She opened her purse and got out a stick of gum. “It did for me.”
Shit. Now he felt like a jerk. “Yeah,” he reluctantly admitted. “Me, too.”
“Uh-huh.” She popped the gum into her mouth, folded the wrapper, and put it in the ashtray. “And here you just said you wouldn’t lie.”
“It’s odd, no denying that, but so far I’ve enjoyed every minute with you. For sure, you’ll never bore me.” He thought it prudent to add, “Not that I share your enthusiasm for our agenda tonight.”
She chewed her gum and, through the car window, watched the scenery pass by. “You’ll see. I can take care of myself.”
Because she’d always had to.
But not anymore, not with him. And thinking of all the ways he wanted to care for her, he asked, “What’s your favorite place to eat?” She deserved to be pampered. Dinners out, movies, maybe some dancing…
“Hmm.” She gave it very little thought. “I don’t know.” She rolled one shoulder. “The dinner you cooked the other day was about the best I’ve ever had. Especially the cake.”
“There’s plenty left. If you want to pig out, we can finish it off tonight.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She gave him a quick smile. “But it was so good, I’d rather savor it.”
“No need. There will be another cake at Dare’s, I’m sure.”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
The small gathering was meant to make her happy, not fill her with dread. “Not looking forward to it?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but…I hate being the center of attention, you know?”
“I’m guessing it won’t be the hardship you’re imagining.” Once she was there, she’d enjoy herself. Somehow he’d see to it. To keep her from dwelling on it, he said, “Since you’ll be staying with me, is there anything in particular you’d like me to stock up on? More sweets maybe?”
She shrugged. “If you want cookies, hey, I won’t argue.”
“I can make a grocery store run. And I like cooking, so if you have a preference for dinners, just let me know.”
“Except for weapons, I’m not real picky.”
He did not want to talk weapons with her again. “Steak? Chicken? Come on, give me a clue.”
Indifferent, she offered no suggestion. “I’ve never really been a foodie, you know? I eat when I’m hungry, at any place that’s cheap but clean. I mean, I don’t want squid or snails or anything. No fish with their faces still on there. But otherwise, if you cook it, I promise I’ll like it.”
“Yeah, I’m not big on fish with faces, either.” He turned along a road leading into a more congested commercial area. He’d have to drop her off soon—and he was dreading it already. “You specified it had to be cheap?”
“My funds are limited, remember? Especially right now. I mean, Jackson tries to overpay me for doing a little computer work, but…” She shuddered. “I detest taking charity.”
“It’s not—”
“Yeah, it is,” she insisted, “no matter how Jackson denies it. But since I haven’t held up any dealers lately—”
“Jesus, I hope not.” He hadn’t even considered the possibility. “If you even think of—”
“You’re not my boss,” she interjected, “and I haven’t been focused on gambling. So…” She held up her hands, philosophical about her meager possessions. “I have the basic necessities. More than enough to get by.”
Later he’d deal with the idea of her mugging criminals. For now, he wanted to talk about the few bags she kept in her trunk. “What about clothes?”
“You haven’t seen me running around naked, have you?”
A clear visual struck his beleaguered brain. No, but I want to. Out of self-preservation, he cut to the chase. “What you have in the trunk and in your overnight bag…is that all you own?”
“Sheesh, get rid of the long face, will you? I keep things simple for a reason.”
“Being?”
“When you have things, property that’s important to you, then someone can take it away.”
Damn, but that was a sad attitude. “No photos? No jewelry?”
“Yeah, right. Photos of what?” She touched the hoop in her earlobe. “I have a few pairs of earrings, some bracelets and stuff that I wear when I’m working. Otherwise, that stuff just gets in my way.”
Working. God, he’d never get used to her thinking in those terms. “So you don’t care about fashion?”
That earned an honest laugh. “Do I look like a fashion plate to you? I have enough clothes that I don’t have to do laundry every day. And once I get their attention in this getup, I can revert back to my more comfortable duds. Anything more just takes up space and ties me down.”
So many times, in so many ways, she broke his heart without even trying. He pulled up to the curb. He hated to say it but knew she wouldn’t turn back now. “The bus stop is around the corner, two blocks down.”
She undid her seat belt. “I’ll find it.”
Unable to help himself, Spencer caught her arm. Her bare skin was silky soft, warm. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“You got it.”
He was far from reassured. “Don’t forget that I’ll be watching. Don’t go anywhere that I can’t see you.”
A huff of exasperation. “That’s a given.”
And still he couldn’t make himself let her go. “Dare will ghost you to the bus stop, then follow along until you get off the bus near the bar.”
“If that’s what he wants to do, I’m okay with it.” She reached for the door handle. “I sort of figured he’d do something like that anyway. In some ways, he, Trace and Jackson are pretty predictable.”
Was she disappointed that Jackson hadn’t come along tonight instead? Spencer shook his head, refusing to let his mind go there right now. “The bus lets you out right by the Green Goose.”
“I know. I scoped out the area myself.”
“I have all of Dare’s codes. If you see me check my phone, you know something is going on. Remember, if this plan goes off the rails—”
“Spencer, I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll pay attention. I’ll stay out of danger.”
He rubbed his thumb over her meager biceps. “I really hate this.”
After an indulgent look, Arizona released the door handle and settled back in her seat. “Know what?”
Had she finally come to her senses? “What?”
She took out her gum, placed it back in the wrapper and put it in the ashtray again.
Then, before Spencer realized her intent, she turned to him, braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to brush a kiss over his mouth.
Everything male within him froze before going red-hot. Not grabbing her close was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He settled his hands on her narrow waist and relished her freely given affection. “It’s not too late—”
“Shh.” Against his lips, she whispered, “Keep your powder dry, Spence. It’s going to be fine.” She kissed him again, a light butterfly kiss, and then she pulled away. “You have my word.”
* * *
SITTING IN HIS TRUCK stewing, Spencer watched the entrance to the bar. Arizona should be showing up shortly.
He hated this.
Not once had he seen Dare, so he put in a quick call to the number given him.
Dare Macintosh answered on the first ring. “Problem?”
Spencer stared down the street, but the bus didn’t show. “Do you see her?”
“Of course.” There was a moment of silence, and then, half under his breath, Dare said, “She’d be hard to miss.”
“I know.” Spencer rubbed his forehead. “The outfit wasn’t my idea, believe me.”
“Not sure we can blame the clothes. On another woman, that skirt and top would be no big deal. On Arizona, it spells a lot of trouble.”
Suffering his own twinge of jealousy, Spencer growled, “I know.”
“Do you?” Dare went right to the point. “You’re going to have your hands full tonight. I suggest you get yourself together.”
What the hell did that mean? “You have something to say to me?”
Lacking any real inflection, almost as if he was sharing the weather report, Dare said, “You’re personally invested and that’s not a good thing.”
The censure cut. “I know what I’m doing.”
“When it comes to Arizona? I doubt it. You’re letting her screw with your head.”
Instead of trying to deny that, he pointed out the obvious. “You were personally invested when you went after Alani, and when you rescued your wife, Molly.”
“I’m not you.”
Hell, no denying that. Spencer knew he could hold his own, but Dare was in a special league, shared only by Trace and Jackson.
“Right.” It occurred to Spencer that he sounded bitchy. He drew a deep breath, then another. It didn’t help. “If it was any woman other than Arizona—”
“You could be detached and calculating. I know. Arizona doesn’t exactly make it easy to stay uninvolved.”
Finally seeing the bus, Spencer wrapped it up. “She’s here.”
“I know.”
Of course he did. Cutting back a growl of frustration, Spencer said, “If you see anything, if you even suspect something might be going down—”
“I’ll send you one of the codes we went over. Don’t mix them up.”
Spencer ground his molars together. He looked around again and still saw no sight of Dare anywhere. Stealthy bastard. “I’ve got them memorized. Later.”
The second he disconnected the phone, he saw Arizona step off the bus and look around as if she’d never seen a lighted, flashy, busy bar before. Already two guys were hitting on her, one who looked around forty, one probably closer to her own age.
They both appeared charmed by her shy smiles and reserved manner.
Flexing his hands on the steering wheel, Spencer forced himself to sit still in the truck cab and observe without seeming to stare. That he’d pulled up across the street, in the shadows, helped him to go unnoticed.
Watching Arizona with the men, he had to admit that she just might be able to pull this off. He saw her as others would; her air of confidence gone, a show of vulnerability masking her bravado. A deliberate ruse, but still, he couldn’t stop staring. His chest hurt, his nostrils flared.
Despite her lack of invitation, the older man kept trying to look down her top, and the younger guy leaned back to check out her ass. Bastards.
But he’d expected no less. She looked amazingly hot while playing the innocent.
Not good.
Not good at all.
Damn, maybe he liked the helpless female act more than he’d ever realized.
For sure, he liked it on Arizona.
After giving her a minute to sidle away from the men and enter the bar, he drove up the block and around the corner to park. Later, when she called it quits for the night, they’d be able to leave together in his truck with no one the wiser.
Even knowing Dare watched over her, Spencer found it difficult to hold back, to give her time to get settled in the bar. With awful scenarios prominent in his mind, he locked up and strode along the sidewalk quietly, constantly scanning the area for any nosy onlookers.
He saw none.
Flickering white neon lights, shaped like a goose, wrapped around the words GREEN GOOSE. Beneath that, red neon spelled BAR AND GRILL, though no one would mistake the priorities of the establishment. Thick bars secured the windows, but given the area, it looked like the norm.
Above the door, a lighted banner said, EAT, DRINK, RELAX, and another sign advertised, WOMEN, WOMEN, WOMEN! with the shapely silhouette of a busty figure beside it. Combined, the lights sent a fuzzy glow into the dark night, barely illuminating the hulking shape of an empty building on the opposite side of an alley. Beside that was a gas station. To the other side of the bar was a mom-and-pop convenience store, now closed, and beyond that, a tattoo parlor, also closed for the night.
All in all, it was an ominous, dreary, run-down area.
As Spencer approached the entrance, several women eyed him, smiling with invitation while advertising their wares.
Hookers, he decided.
Working for the bar owner? Probably. He smiled back—and walked past them into loud music and disorienting strobe lights. It took his eyes a moment to adjust.
Dim, mellow lights hung over booths in the sitting and eating area. A brighter light shone over the bar and bar stools but didn’t quite reach to the seating area, leaving plenty of shadows to swallow up shady deals and lustful assignations—and with every flashing illumination, he saw a few of each.
Discreetly, he scanned the interior until he spotted Arizona at the bar. As he watched, she knocked back a shot of whiskey. Judging by the shot glasses in front of her, it wasn’t her first.
Damn.
What the hell was she thinking? But when he saw the smiling bartender hand her another, he knew. Someone had already sent her the drinks. Things were moving fast. Too fast.
* * *
SO SHE HAD RETURNED.
He’d hoped she would, but she was so hot, so cocky, and so different from the others, that seeing her here now, within reach, almost surprised him.
It definitely pleased him.
Rubbing his mouth, he scrutinized her face, her body.
She’d be perfect, the best yet, the most valuable. And he would have her.
The power of it surged through his veins.
Oh, she thought herself protected. She thought herself immune.
But now that he’d set his sights on her, now that she’d come back, she would be his.
Nothing and no one would change that outcome.
* * *
SPENCER SEATED HIMSELF at a booth as far from Arizona as he dared to be while still being able to see her.
Laughingly rejecting the proffered drink, she spoke to a waiter. Spencer couldn’t hear what was said, but when the waiter called over a boy with a menu, he assumed she planned to order food.
That would buy her some time—as long as she didn’t actually eat much.
The shot remained on the bar in front of her.
How much whiskey would it take to get her drunk? Probably not much. The way she giggled, she was already buzzed…or pretending to be.
With Arizona, he couldn’t tell.
But he could easily guess how unmanageable she’d be with liquid courage burning through her bloodstream. God help them all, she just might kill someone.
* * *
THE SECOND SPENCER WALKED IN, Arizona knew it. She didn’t need to see him or hear him. He had that kind of appeal, that much presence. With him inside the spacious establishment, the stagnant air seemed to swell and churn.
Every other woman in the joint noticed him, too. Women who danced beneath lights. Women who served drinks and sandwiches. Women with other men.
Yeah, she got that. With his incredible height and those broad shoulders and that unwavering air of control, Spencer was the type of man no woman would ever ignore.
But the men became aware of him, too. Likely they saw him as a possible threat; physically he’d annihilate them, and romantically, well, he hogged the attention of all the ladies.
With just a glance, Arizona saw the big bartender zero in on Spencer with nasty intent. While polishing a glass, he spoke to the dude who’d sent her the drinks, and that idiot nodded. Then the skinny man she now guessed to be her target, Terry Janes, eyed Spencer, as well. When Janes turned to say something to the bartender, he caught Arizona watching him.
She ducked her face but smiled—and peeked at him again.
Of course the knucklehead bought it, hook, line and sinker. Men were soooo damn easy.
Mouth curling and dark eyes warming, Terry Janes eyed her with possessiveness.
Oh, she recognized that look well enough.
Bingo.
Up close, his thinning brown hair was more noticeable, especially with the way he slicked it back. His scruffy goatee with patches of gray gave away his mid-forties age. When he tugged on an earring in one ear, Arizona again saw the colorful tribal tat on his left arm.
Tonight, he looked cruel. He looked like an easy mark.
And Spencer thought this might prove tricky. Ha!
Janes leaned on the bar to talk quietly with the other men, but his intimate attention remained on her.
He was such a repulsive excuse for a human being that acidic disgust burned in her stomach. But she played it coy, letting her smile flicker as she returned his interest.
If it weren’t for the loud music, she maybe could have listened in. But no way would she be able to hear unless she got right on top of them. And that’d be too obvious.
So instead, she watched him.
Not until the same boy she’d seen before approached with a menu did she look away from Terry Janes.
“You came back,” he said, his voice dead, cold.
“I said I would, right?” She smiled at him and slid the whiskey aside with a laugh. “I can’t do any more of that on an empty stomach.”
He rubbed his neck with his uninjured hand. “Something else to drink, then?”
Arizona took in the mop of thick dark hair, the swarthy skin…the cowed shoulders. That the kid wouldn’t look her in the eyes really bothered her. He had to be still in his teens. Too young to be working in a bar, but then, he probably had no one to champion him, no one to care about his mistreatment.
Being on the scrawny side, he was no match for the bullies clustered at the other end of the bar.
On his left hand, two fingers were taped together, but she could see by the swelling and discoloration of the middle finger that it had probably been broken.
When she wrapped this up, she’d repay the bastards in kind—with interest.
“How about sweet tea? Do you have that?” Leaning close to ensure he heard her, she tried to see his face.
He dodged her. “Yes.” He laid a menu on the bar in front of her. For only a second, his white shirtsleeve pulled up…and exposed fresh, purpling bruises above his thin wrist. He quickly retreated. “Do you know what you want to eat or did you need more time?”
The whiskey had burned a path down her throat and into her stomach; seeing the kid’s abuse burned her soul.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go ahead and order now.” To give the impression of desperation, Arizona rubbed her stomach as if hungry and scrunched up her nose. “What’s the cheapest thing on the menu?”
She knew she had the attention of all three men; so did the poor boy, and it amplified his nervousness.
He licked pale, chapped lips. She recognized signs of malnutrition and dehydration, in his dry, flushed skin, the protrusion of his bones and lack of flesh, his obvious exhaustion. “We have chili and bean soup. House salad.” One skinny shoulder lifted. “Maybe a BLT sandwich.”
“Let’s see…” She pretended to think about food, when really she hoped to reel in the men. She wanted Terry Janes to approach her. She wanted him to make a move. “It all sounds so good.”
Janes sent a lackey instead.
Feeling his approach, Arizona handed back the menu. “I guess I’ll just have the salad.”
The same guy who’d sent her the drinks earlier stepped up behind her, no doubt testing the waters. “Get her whatever she wants, Quin.”
“Oh.” Pretending surprise at the intrusive voice, Arizona looked over her shoulder—and had to pull back so that she wouldn’t bump into him. He’d crowded so close, she felt the threat of his presence even though he wore a smile. “No, really. I don’t—”
“It’s on the house.” Music faded. The lights sent demonic shadows over his face as he visually caressed her boobs. “A pretty girl should never go hungry.”
Trying to be objective, Arizona decided that he wasn’t a bad-looking man. Not a troll by any stretch. But she knew who he was, what he did and what he wanted.
That made her want him dead.
“Umm…” She smiled in false appreciation. “Thank you, but…”
“I insist.” With a hand on her shoulder, he leaned in closer but didn’t offer his name. “Tell Quin what you want.”
Quin. Was that really the young man’s name? Doubtful. But it’d give her an in for setting up a contact. “If you’re sure it’s okay, then maybe a salad and a BLT?”
He bent a level look on Quin. “Bring her a piece of pie, too.”
Before the waiter could leave, she touched his arm. “Thank you, Quin.”
Haunted eyes met her gaze. He nodded and hurried off, leaving Arizona alone with the mouth-breather.
Great.
Shoring up her level of tolerance, she swiveled on the stool to fully face the douche again. Her knees bumped into him, yet neither of them moved away. He had the attitude of a man used to getting his way.
Now that he’d met her, he was bound for disappointment.
Next to Spencer, this guy looked like a complete wimp. And that brought out other quick comparisons. All around her, the usual drunks mixed, mingled or just nursed their drinks.
The creep in front of her gained power by controlling and abusing others. He gave his allegiance to a trafficker, and so did the bartender.
They were foul where Spencer was pure, and, put to the test, one on one, man to man, she knew Spencer would easily crush them all.
But cruelty gave an added edge; when a man didn’t care who he hurt or how he inflicted pain, he could do a lot of damage in a short amount of time.
Though she knew the answer, she asked sweetly, with just a touch of awe, “Are you the boss?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Pouting in mock disappointment, she said, “You seem so much like a boss that I just assumed.”
He moved to her side and leaned back, putting both elbows on the bar. The pose pulled his shirt taut over a slight gut and emphasized his scrawny chest. “Like a boss how?”
By necessity, they remained so close she could smell his breath. “You know. Very…” She smiled and allowed a slight shiver. “In charge.”
“That’s because I am in charge.” Cocky, full of self-importance, he bragged, “I’m the boss’s number-one man.”
In a show of eagerness, she leaned closer. “You are?”
“That’s right.” His gaze settled on her mouth. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”
She’d already thought about this, and said without hesitation, “Candy.”
One brow lifted, and he gave a short laugh. “I can believe that.” With one finger, he touched her chin. “You’re so sweet, I think I’m getting a toothache.”
Oh, puh-leeze. Could he be any cheesier? Wishing she could blush on cue, Arizona ducked her face. “Thank you.”
Finally, he held out a hand. “I’m Carl.”
Aha. One big fish in the barrel. “So nice to meet you, Carl.” Knowing she wouldn’t get it back anytime soon, she gave him her hand.
For a heart-stopping moment, as he lifted her hand toward his face, she thought he planned to kiss the back of her fingers. Already her stomach pitched with revulsion.
She did not want his disgusting mouth on her. Her breath stalled in her lungs, and she waited.
Instead, he examined her short, unpolished nails. “No rings? No manicure?”
Asshole. If she was a young woman down on her luck, he sure wouldn’t make her feel any better.
“No funds,” Arizona said as if confessing a sin.
“Is that so?”
A big sigh brought his gaze back to her chest. It was easier for Arizona to conceal her hatred when she didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “I’ve been job hunting, but so far, no luck.”
“You mean a woman with your classy chassis doesn’t have someone to take care of her?”
She forced a smile at the crude compliment. “I’m all alone.”
Shrewd eyes narrowed in speculation. “No boyfriend?”
“Afraid not.”
He studied her doubtfully. “I find that really hard to believe.”
Damn. She didn’t want him to get too suspicious. “It’s hard, you know? I mean, I’ve met a few good guys who were fun to be around. I enjoyed them, but…”
“But what?”
“They started to get too…well, clingy.” She toyed with the end of a lock of hair that fell over her chest. “I want to make it on my own, see some of the world, not get tied down so soon.”
Guarded, he gave her long scrutiny before coming to some conclusion. “I saw you talking to Quin.”
“I asked about a job.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did he say?”
“That I’d have to talk to you.” Quin had said no such thing, but she wasn’t about to get him into trouble. “That’s why I came back. I was hoping…well, do you need any more help here?”
Slowly, his mouth lifted in a smile. “As it turns out, the boss might be hiring.”
“Seriously?” She perked up. “So, could I meet him?”
“Maybe.” As if mesmerized, he watched the slow, playful movements of her fingers toying with her hair. “What are your job skills?”
“Well…” Speaking over the music wasn’t easy but no way would she suggest they go somewhere more private. “I’m a people person. I promise I’d work real hard. I’m always respectful.”
With difficulty, he got his attention back on her face. “How old are you, honey?”
She didn’t lie about that. “Twenty-one.”
“Hmm.” His eyes glittered in speculation. “Plenty old enough, then.”
“That’s what I keep saying!”
His big grin showed off strong white teeth. “The only job available would be waitressing.”
“Oh, I don’t mind that.” She squeezed his hand and rushed on with gusto. “I promise I’ll always show up on time, and I’m never sick. I swear that I’m a real quick learner—”
“I’ll take it up with the boss.” So saying, he glanced back at Terry Janes and nodded.
So she passed muster? Fools. She couldn’t wait to teach them both a lesson.
Quin hesitated with her food, hovering nearby but not intruding.
Carl motioned him in. “Your meal is here.” He patted her hand one last time. “Eat up, and then you can talk to him.”
“Seriously?”
He tipped up her chin. “If all goes well and he hires you, one of us will show you around the place.”
Uh-oh. She was supposed to stay where Spencer could see her. In the briefest of glances, she met Spencer’s gaze—and even in the darkness, with the crazy effect of the lights, she saw that he did not look happy.
Had he guessed what Carl said? Judging by his ominous expression…yes.
Well, he’d just have to trust her to keep herself safe, because she refused to blow things now.
She pasted on a beaming smile. “I would love a quick tour. Thank you!”