Deep Blue (Blue Series) (12 page)

He smiles and slides his arms down to my waist. I spin around and drape my hands behind his neck. He immediately pulls me close until our hips grind, the scent of heavy cologne and perspiration choking me as we sway to the music. Dampness seeps through his shirt and onto my fingers, and though he doesn’t smell bad, he doesn’t smell appealing. Without waiting for the song to end, I slip from his grasp and push through the crowd to the nearest exit off the dance floor. Where I end up is a different part of the club entirely, filled with lounge-style sofas and small square tables. Did I enter a different room?

I glance around, searching for my friends, and recognize a different person. Seated at the table in front of me is one of the executives who hangs out after work watching Gen in the lounge. One of the trollers. He and the buddy he often hangs with look alike from the distance between there and the blackjack table. I can’t tell if this is the guy I saw leaving the motel with the waitress or if it’s the other one. They both have businesslike short hair and symmetrical features. The only reason I can distinguish either of them from a million other preppy professionals is because they’re young for casino executives, and they each wear Blue insignia rings.

I’ve only seen a few executives in possession of the Blue rings. Zach, the dealer who’s friends with Nessa, filled me in on Blue protocol and how management receives thick gold bands with sapphires for exemplary performance. The two trollers wear them, and that’s how I recognized one of them at the motel, despite his casual attire at the time.

I’m buzzed and frustrated, and tired of preying men. I walk over. “Hey, you’re the guy who’s been checking out my friend.”

The man makes a slow perusal of me, his attention landing on my chest. “And now I’m looking at you.” His mouth kicks up at the side in a charming smile that must hit the mark with the ladies more often than not. “I’ve seen you around as well. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

He’s sleazy, but his smile comes across as guileless. And he called me pretty. The attention is appreciated, a simple acknowledgement that I matter in the world.

I’ll regret this tomorrow, but for now, I’m as big a sucker for flattery as any other lonely female. Besides, I can handle his type. “Cali.”

“Cali, I’m Drake.” His eyes narrow as if he’s trying to figure me out, or maybe it’s because I’m swaying. “Would you like to join me?”

Drake, the lounge-trolling executive, is pretty attractive up close, with dark hair and whiskey-brown eyes. I’d put him in his upper twenties. He’s polished and smooth in his tailored shirt and pants. Different from the guys I’ve dated. More mature. Worldly. A vision of Jaeger in his
GQ
gear flashes like a strobe in my mind. But Jaeger and I have never dated, so he doesn’t count. I clench my fists.

“You look like you could use a drink,” he says.

A good point. I don’t need a drink, but I could use one.

I sit and Drake flags the waitress. “What would you like?”

I tell him my order and it arrives in record time. Given my level of inebriation, which becomes more apparent with every attempt at normal activity, like, say, walking, I sip my cocktail and order water. Drinking is all fun and games until there’s puking involved. Water helps prevent the casualty. I’m buzzed and unable to think too deeply. That’s enough.

Drake asks me questions about my job at the casino and how I like living in Lake Tahoe. I follow the flow of conversation until the topic of summer excursions comes up and I happen to mention the fishing trip.

Drake’s hand squeezes my shoulder from the back of my seat. “Cali, are you all right?”

I look up and blink. Images of Jaeger in the boat, talking dirty fishing talk, leads to the most recent image I can’t get out of my head—of him with the older woman clinging to him like a barnacle. “Yes—” I swallow the bitter flavor in my mouth. “Fine.” My smile falters.

Drake doesn’t smile back, though his expression remains kind. “Would you like to leave?”

Leave? Escape the casino and Jaeger …

I nod eagerly.

Rational thoughts move like sludge, while a fast forward of Jaegerathon plays in Technicolor inside my head.

Drake gestures to a back door. “Shall we?”

I follow him numbly from the club. He’s been kind. Maybe I misjudged him. He could simply be as lonely as the rest of us, sitting in Gen’s lounge, searching for someone special to come along.

It’s not until the door to the club closes and cool air nips my arms that I realize I can’t leave without Gen. And that maybe leaving with someone I’ve just met isn’t such a great idea.

“Wait.” I stop and look around, my heartbeat quickening. I don’t recognize this part of the parking lot. “I came here with friends. We have to go back.” I reach for the door handle, but it’s locked from the inside.

“They keep these locked. We’ll have to go in through the casino.”

And see Jaeger with his cougar? No, thank you. I wrap my arms around my middle, shivers vibrating my spine.

At my hesitation, Drake slips his jacket over my shoulders. “Do you have a phone?”

I left my purse with Gen, but my phone is in my back pocket. I pull it out.

“You can contact them from here and tell them I’m taking you home, or we can walk inside. It’s up to you.”

The slow cog that is my brain on alcohol filters this information, processing a slight sense of unease in the pit of my belly. Probably not the best idea to go home with a guy I would have been leery of before tonight. But the lights are bright in the parking lot, providing a sense of security. I have no desire to walk past Jaeger with his woman.

It’s a short drive to my place. I could call a taxi, but Drake’s right here. And besides, I don’t have my purse and money. Drake works for the casino as an executive—recognized for stellar performance, no less. How dangerous could he be?

I shoot Gen a text.

Cali: I left the bar. Getting a ride from a coworker. Please bring my purse when you leave. See you back at our place. Get some digits, will you!

I don’t wait for her response. If she worries about me, she’ll check her phone.

Drake leads me to a dark sports car. I have no idea of the make—that kind of detail is beyond my cognitive ability at the moment.

He opens the passenger door and I ease onto tan leather seats, slipping off his jacket and draping it over the center console.

“Where do you live?” he asks from the driver’s side.

Another internal twinge hits me, as if beneath the alcohol haze, common sense lies in wait. I don’t like the idea of giving a stranger my address, but I really want to go home. Besides, he works at the casino. If he wanted my address, he could look it up. I smother my worries and give him the information. He programs it into his GPS and we head out.

Within minutes, we pull into my driveway. I hop out of the car and Drake does too. Maybe he’s walking me to the door? I slip behind the fence where we hide the spare key. When I return, Drake’s waiting on the darkened doorstep.

Gen and I forgot to turn on the porch light before we left. This wouldn’t be a big deal, except that having the lights off sets a certain romantic mood I’d rather not encourage.

“Thank you for the ride. Sorry about zoning out at the club. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

Drake sidles closer, resting his hand lightly on my hip. He flashes his charming smile. “How about a short visit?”

I step back, my shoulders brushing the door. “Not tonight. Another time, maybe?”

He nods slowly. I can’t see his eyes clearly in the dark, but I sense calculations going on behind the pregnant pause. “A kiss good-night, then?”

He leans forward and my hands flash to his chest, urging him back. “I don’t—”

Drake dips his head, my arms no barrier when he’s half a foot taller. His mouth closes on mine even as I’m pushing him away. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, since he’s too busy grabbing my neck and angling his tongue inside my mouth.

Every danger instinct goes off. My brain moves in rapid fire, registering each breath, a rough hand grabbing my wrist, pinning it behind me in a gesture meant to be sexy or an assault—I’m not sure which. Either way, it’s unwelcome. Drake’s body urges me flush with the door. The only sounds are the shifting of our feet, and the smacking of Drake’s rough mouth amid the struggle for control.

A fine sweat breaks out along my back despite the evening chill. Rapid footsteps penetrate the panic surging through my body.

“Off!” a deep, familiar voice shouts a second before Drake is ripped from me. I step away from the door, my arms shaking from the effort of pushing at him.

Jaeger stands between us, his back to me. I have no idea how he got here, or why he’s here. But the relief is unimaginable.

“Is there a problem?” Drake casually shifts his collar forward. Jaeger must have wrenched it when he grabbed him.

Drake saunters closer, careful to remain clear of Jaeger. “The lady came home with me. I don’t see how this is any of your business.”

“It’s
her
home and she asked you to
leave
,” Jaeger says. “Get. The fuck. Out!” He steps back and drapes a long arm over my shoulders, pulling me close. My heart slows, my breathing calms.

The threat in Jaeger’s voice stuns me, but my body instinctively curls into his. Frankly, I’m surprised anyone can garner this kind of response from Jaeger. He’s the gentle giant. But Jesus, is he scary when he’s mad.

“Cali—” Drake steps to the side and grabs my wrist, tugging me.

I twist my arm away. Does the man have a death wish? Or is he just so arrogant he thinks a guy twice his size can’t touch him? “Please leave,” I tell Drake.

His jaw clenches as if he’s refusing to give up a toy.

Jaeger lets out an angry sigh, pushes me behind him—
what the hell?
—and punches Drake in the face.
Holy shit!

Drake lands on the ground, rolling, grasping the front of his face. There’s no blood, but that has to have hurt.

Jaeger leans over him. “Do. Not. Touch. Her. That was a warning tap. The next one won’t be.”

Drake hastily rises and brushes the powdery Tahoe soil off his trousers. He glares at me. “Not what I had in mind for tonight,” he says and stalks away. He fires up his car and tears out of the driveway in a spray of pebbles and pine needles.

Jaeger tilts up my chin with his finger, searching my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, wondering what in the hell just happened. “What are you doing here?” Drake’s car rounds the corner at the end of my street, his taillights disappearing. “How did you know …?”

Jaeger rubs a hand down his face and lets out a tense breath. “Kerstin. She told me you looked drunk and left with some guy from the club.” His face contorts. “What were you thinking, Cali?”

This side of Jaeger, the angry, protective side, is something I’ve never seen before, and it’s totally hot—not that I wish to ignite it unduly.

I wasn’t thinking when I left with Drake. In fact, I purposely tried not to think. About Jaeger. But that’s not something I’ll tell him. “I made a mistake.”

“You made a mistake? You—” Jaeger steps to the side and runs his fingers through his short hair. “Do you understand what that—that
psychotic
asshole
could have done?”

Yeah, I kinda do, and I’m trying not to imagine it. The last half hour has sobered me up.

I rub my eyes and move to the front door, unlock it and walk inside, my fingers and arms still trembling. Jaeger lingers on the threshold. “You can come in,” I tell him.

I fill a glass of water in the kitchen and offer him one, but he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry for yelling.” He lets out another strained breath. “But you can’t go home with people you don’t know. Matter of fact, don’t go home with anyone unless it’s a friend.”

I spin around. It was stupid to go home with Drake and I learned a painful lesson tonight, but where does Jaeger get off telling me what to do? “What about you? Did you take your lady friend home before you came here? It’s okay for you to leave with some random person, but not me?”

“I’m not a hundred-pound female,” he growls. “He could have hurt you, Cali.”

Before I dated Eric, I’d left parties a time or two with guys I had just met. But in those cases, I knew the guy’s fraternity brothers, or we had friends in common. There were dangers in college, sure, but we lived in a bubble where people knew each other. The risks were lower.

I ignored my instincts tonight and treated Drake like I would a guy from school. It was foolish and dangerous, but that doesn’t give Jaeger the right to treat me like a child. “I said I made a mistake. I don’t recall having a second big brother. Why did you follow me, anyway?”

Jaeger sits in the center of the couch, taking up two-thirds of it, his legs spread wide the way guys do because they don’t wear skirts or feel the need to hide their private parts. He leans his head against the wall behind the cushions and stares at the ceiling. “I thought the guy could be bad news.”

I look around searchingly. “And you knew this how?”

He glares at me. “He’s a guy and you’d been drinking. I wasn’t taking chances.”

My brows furrow. Jaeger’s earlier behavior was rather heated for someone I’m casually friends with, like he was taking things personally. Why the hell would he leave his date to follow me home on the off chance Drake was a serial killer?

“What about your lady friend?”

“
Client
. She’s a client, Cali.”

I raise my brows. “She’s pretty handsy for a client. Do all clients feel you up?”

A vee forms between his brows. He sits forward and grabs my waist, pulling me between his knees until I have no choice but to shift and sit on his leg or fall into his chest. I choose the leg, slowly sliding off onto the couch beside him, my legs dangling over his lap. His arm braces me from behind. “You scared the shit out of me tonight.” His green eyes are intense and worried.

“I’m sorry,” I say, surprised.

Jaeger presses my face to his chest, cradling my head. “Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.”