Chapter Two
Viv tightened her arm around Callie’s waist and shook off the not-so-shy behemoth of a man gripping the back of her neck. His height alone was enough to make him intimidating, but paired with his shaved head and leathers, the scary vibe packed an extra punch. “I appreciate the offer, but we’ll be fine.”
“Ah, come on, darlin’.” He stepped closer and shot a quick, conspiratorial grin at his cohort in crime, a much smaller guy who more than made up in the shaggy hair department what Cue Ball was missing. “Just trying to help out. Can’t have a pretty thing like you out on the streets alone this time of night.”
Stupid, stubborn men. One thing about guys who lived and breathed a hard life, they seemed to think the word no was a coy version of maybe. She feigned an innocent smile as best she could with Callie wrenching her neck. “Well, before I take you up on that, I should warn you, Callie’s probably about five minutes from puking on anything or anyone within a twenty-foot radius. Seeing as how I’m right next to her, that would include me. You still up for helping?”
The mood killer worked even better than she expected, dousing the naughty gleam in both men’s eyes faster than the people at the table behind them downed their shots. The big guy stepped back and waved her through without another word.
Viv half laughed and half scoffed, leaning into her first few steps to get some extra forward momentum.
Callie staggered closer and nuzzled next to Viv, her words coming out in a drunken, sleepy slur. “Thanks for coming to get me, Vivie.” The scent of tequila and other things Viv didn’t want to contemplate blasted across her nose and riled what little was left of the snack she’d pilfered at the New Year’s Eve party. “You’re a good sister. I can always count on you.”
An uncomfortable pang rattled in her chest, memories of coming home to an empty apartment when Mom and Dad should’ve been there clanging together all at once. Family was supposed to be there for one another. To love each other and have their backs, not leave them to grapple with life all alone. “Yeah, Callie. I’m here. Always.”
The bouncer who’d let her in took one look at her sister and stepped out of hurling range. “See you found your girl.”
“I did, thanks.” She shouldered the main door open and braced when Callie stumble-stepped down to the sidewalk. A little farther and she’d be home free, or at least in a place where she could battle the rest of the night barefoot in a comfy pair of sweats.
Behind her, the bar door chunked open, and a few of the people crowded in front of the bar called out goodnights and wishes for a happy new year to whoever had come out.
Viv stepped out onto Elm Street, Callie pinned to her hip.
Midstride, Callie lurched and waved to someone across the street. “Stephanie!” The unexpected happy dance knocked them both off center. Callie fisted Viv’s hair in a last-ditch grasp to stay upright, but wrenched Viv’s neck before she went sideways.
Viv stumbled, heels teetering on the blacktop and arms flailing for purchase.
Callie smacked her head on the curb.
Viv braced for her own impact, but strong arms caught her, her back connecting with a warm solid chest instead of the painful concrete she’d expected.
A deep, rumbling voice rang out behind her. “Get Zeke and Trevor out here. See if Danny’s still around, too.”
She clenched the leather-clad arms around her waist and fought to catch a steady breath.
The bouncer hurried into the street and kneeled beside Callie, gently lifting her so her head rested on his lap.
This fucking night. This horrid, embarrassing, fucking night. Behind her, murmurs and giggles from bystanders grew by the second. Her mind pushed for her to get up, deal with Callie, and get home where it was safe, but her body wouldn’t move, mortification and the flood of adrenaline rooting her in place.
The man behind her tightened his hold as though he sensed her self-consciousness. “We got this, sugar.” The tiny movement made the leather of his jacket groan. His scent permeated her haze, a sea-meets-sun combination that made her think of Mediterranean islands and lazy days on the beach, not at all what she’d expect from a man coming out of the dive behind her. He sifted his fingers through her freed hair, moving it to one side of her neck, and a stray bobby pin clattered to the asphalt. “Your neck all right? Your sister gave it a hell of a snap.”
That voice. Every word radiated through her, grated and deep like the rumbling bass of a stereo cranked up too loud.
He stroked her nape, the touch confident and not the least bit platonic.
Her senses leaped to attention, eager for more of the delicious contact. It was all she could do to hold back the moan lodged in the back of her throat. She swallowed and blew out a slow breath instead. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
He lifted her upright, and the muscles in his arms and chest flexed around her, tangling what was left of her reasonable thoughts into a hopeless knot.
A man jogged up, hunkered down beside her sister, and opened up a leather duffel. Not just any man, the guy who’d stitched up the hottie in the office.
She surged forward to intervene, but firm hands gripped her shoulders and pulled her back. “Give Zeke a minute to check her out.”
Viv twisted, ready to shout at whoever dared to hold her back—and froze. Her breath whooshed out of her like she’d hit the pavement after all.
Fantasy Man grinned down at her, a toothpick anchored at the corner of his mouth. His tan spoke of far more hours in the sun than the surgeon general recommended, and his almost black eyes burned with a wicked gleam that promised loads of trouble. And not necessarily the good kind, judging by the vicious scar marking the corner of one eye.
“Zeke’s a trauma doc,” he said. “Perks up like a bloodhound if anyone so much as stubs a toe.”
Callie moaned, and Viv spun back around to find the doc prodding the back of her sister’s neck.
“I know it hurts,” Zeke said. “Can you tell me your name?”
“I don’t feel so good,” Callie said.
Zeke carefully moved Callie’s head back and forth and side to side. “I imagine you don’t. Still want to know your name, though.”
“Callie.”
“That’s a pretty name.” Zeke dug into his duffel and pulled out a penlight. “You know what day it is, Callie?”
Callie’s eyes stayed shut, but she smiled like a kid at Christmas and threw her arms out to the side, damn near whacking Trevor as he sat on the curb beside her. “Happy New Year!”
Trevor chuckled and shifted Callie away from the bouncer so she rested against his own chest. “I got her, Ivan. See if you can’t find the crowd something else to gawk at.”
“You know where you’re at, Callie?” Zeke checked her sister’s pupils for responsiveness.
As soon as Zeke pulled the light away, Callie blinked and focused on Viv. “I’m with Vivie.”
Fantasy Man’s voice resonated beside Viv’s ear, the tone low enough it zinged from her neck to the base of her spine. “Vivie, huh?”
A shudder racked her and she crossed her arms to combat the goose bumps popping up under her suit jacket.
His arm slipped around her waist from behind and pulled her against his chest, his heat blasting straight through to her skin. “You okay?”
Hell, no she wasn’t okay. Her sister was hurt and bystanders lined both sides of the street waiting to see what happened next, but all Viv could think about was how his voice would sound up close and in the dark. Preferably between heavy breaths with lots and lots of skin involved. She’d chalk it up to exhaustion, but her nonexistent sex life was probably the real culprit.
“I’m fine. Just tired.” She forced herself to step away and faced him, holding out her hand. “And it’s Vivienne. Vivienne Moore. Or Viv. Callie’s the only one that calls me Vivie.”
He studied her outstretched palm, scanning her with languid assessment, then clasped her hand in his and pierced her with a look that jolted straight between her legs. “Jace Kennedy.”
Figured that Fantasy Man would have a fantasy name to match. It sounded familiar, too, though with all the pheromones jetting through her body she couldn’t quite place where. Maybe wishful thinking or one too many romance novels. She tugged her hand free and stuffed her fists into her pockets. “Thanks for not letting me bust my ass in front of everyone.”
He matched her posture and shuttled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue. “Pretty sure I got the best end of the deal.”
Zeke’s voice cut in from behind her. “I think she’s fine. Just a nasty goose egg and too much booze.”
Viv turned in time to see the two men guide Callie to her feet. She weaved a little and looked like she’d fall asleep any second, but the pain seemed to have knocked off a little of her drunken haze. Her floral bohemian top was wrinkled and askew on her curvy frame, and her golden-brown hair was mussed like she’d just had monkey sex. Otherwise, she fit the rest of the crowd a whole lot better than Viv.
Pegging Zeke with a pointed look, Jace cupped the back of Viv’s neck. “Check Little Miss out, too. Didn’t like the angle her neck took when her girl went down.” He focused on Viv and held out his hand, palm up. “Keys.”
“What?”
“Keys,” he said. “Give ’em to me and we’ll bring your car around.”
“You don’t need to do that.” She pointed at the lot across the street. “I’m just over there, and Callie looks—”
“It’s almost two in the morning, your sister’s hammered and you both took a fall. Fork over the keys, we’ll get your car, pull it around and load your girl up.”
Four unyielding stares locked on to her—Zeke, Trevor and Jace, plus a new guy with black hair and a ponytail nearly down to his ass. The way the new guy trimmed his goatee gave him a Ming the Merciless vibe. She shouldn’t let any one of these guys near her, let alone surrender the keys to her car. “I think it’s better if Callie and I handle it ourselves.”
The muscle at the back of Jace’s jaw twitched and his eyes darkened.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,” Viv added. “I appreciate everyone jumping in to help. It’s way more than you needed to do. I just don’t know you guys. Have you watched the news lately?”
“That’s fair.” Trevor’s focus was locked on Jace when he spoke, but then slid his gaze to Viv. “But this is my bar, your sister drank too much while she was in it and hurt herself on the way out. It’s in my best interest to make sure you make it home safe. Anything bad goes down between here and there, you could give me and my new business a whole lot of heartache I don’t need, right?”
Trevor had a point.
“Give me the keys, sugar.” Jace crooked the fingers on his outstretched hand. “You’ve done enough solo tonight.”
She handed them over and Zeke stepped in, gently prodding the muscles along the back of her neck. “Any soreness?”
Viv shook her head as much as she could with Zeke’s big hands wrapped around her throat.
Behind Zeke, Jace handed off the keys to Ivan. A second later, jogging boot heels rang against the asphalt followed by the chirp of a disengaging car alarm.
Zeke tested her movement side to side and front and back as he’d done for Callie and checked her pupils. “I doubt you’d feel it until tomorrow anyway. Probably wouldn’t hurt to take a few ibuprofens before you go to bed.” He jerked his head toward Callie, still swaying next to Trevor. “Same goes for her. You’ll have a hard time keeping her awake and not puking with as much as she’s had to drink, but if she starts to act confused, can’t remember things or complains of ringing in her ears, get her to an ER.”
“You got anyone that can help you tonight?” Jace asked.
Trevor piped up. “I can ask one of the girls to stay with you if you want.”
“No, I can handle it.”
Zeke gave her a knowing look, pulled a card out of his billfold, and handed it over. “You need help, call. We’ll get her where she needs to be.”
As in to an ER, or a place that had a minimum thirty-day stay? God knew, she’d begged her sister to at least try an AA meeting, but Callie and their dad had cornered all the stubborn genes for the family.
Her hybrid hummed up beside them and Zeke stepped away. “Lay her down in the back, Trev.”
The bouncer hopped out of the driver’s seat and opened up the back door for Trevor, who’d given up steering Callie and opted for carrying her to the car.
Jace moved in close and lowered his voice. “She get like this a lot?”
The men situated her sister in the back seat.
“Yeah.” God, she was tired of this routine. She’d give just about anything to surrender, curl up into a little ball and let someone else handle Callie’s tricks for a day or two.
Jace splayed his hand along the small of her back and urged her forward as a big, mean-looking bike with even nastier sounding pipes rolled up behind her car. “Danny’s gonna follow you home and help you get Sleeping Beauty settled in for the night.”
“I don’t think—”
“If your sister passes out, can you get her in the house on your own?”
“No.”
“Then stop thinking and let us handle this,” Jace said. “Danny so much as breathes funny, you call the number on Zeke’s card and we’ll deal with it.”
Another good point. After everything they’d done for her tonight, the odds of any of them having bad intentions were pretty slim. And her dog would leave even a big guy like Danny a heaping bloody mess if Viv so much as snapped a finger.
He opened the car door and she slid behind the wheel, fastening her seat belt in a bit of a daze. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Just doing what decent people do.” He started to shut her door and stopped. Leaning slightly into her space, he seemed to listen for something, glanced at the stereo display, then eased back. He studied her car, Callie curled up in the back seat, then Viv. His gaze lingered on her hair and he ran a few fingers through the curly strands. “Like it better down. Kinda wild.”
Her heart tripped, and the last bit of logic left in her brain poofed to nothing. She clenched the steering wheel and swallowed, grateful to find her mouth wasn’t hanging open.
He winked and stepped back. “Take care, sugar.”
The car door thumped shut, muting out everything but the quiet strains of Shinedown and Callie’s muffled snore.
She put the car in Drive and forced her eyes to aim straight ahead. She wouldn’t look back. He might’ve nudged her long-dead sex drive out of a coma, but he was bad news. Everything about him screamed danger and headstrong alpha, and she’d sworn she wouldn’t have that kind of life for herself. One look in the back seat showed where that landed a person.
Still, making a right turn onto Highway 75 for her town house in Uptown instead of circling the block for another peek was tempting as hell.
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Copyright © 2017 by Rhenna Morgan