Hunted (6 page)

His muscles grabbed. Hell, he hated to disappoint her even this much, but he’d sooner undergo an interrogation than set foot on a dance floor. “I don’t dance.”

The other eyebrow shot up to join the first. “Ever?”

He shook his head, aware that the others were staring at him.

“He doesn’t, but I do,” Schroder said, already rising from his chair. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s show these boys how it’s done.” He came around the table and offered her his hand, those goddamn dimples doing their magic, and Clay’s hand tightened around his beer.

“Love to,” Zoe said, taking his hand.

As she left the table and let Schroder escort her across to the small dance floor where other people were already dancing, Clay braced himself for the moment when she turned and gave him a look to either guilt him or rub in the fact that she was dancing with his teammate. Try to make him jealous, show him what he was missing in an attempt to get him to cave and go out there, to take Schroder’s place. Or start some other manipulative mind game some women liked to play.

It didn’t happen.

Not only that, but as the third song faded into the fourth and Zoe showed no signs of slowing down, she didn’t glance his way even once. It was obvious she was enjoying the hell out of herself, and so was Schroder. And his teammate wasn’t the only one who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Other men around the bar were watching her too, eyeing her as she swayed and shimmied in that sexy outfit and heels.

Despite himself, Clay found his attention kept getting dragged back to her too. Out on the floor dancing like that she was damn near mesmerizing. Her pale skin practically glowed under the lights. Watching her move, all sinuous, confident grace, he couldn’t help but think back to her books, especially the third one. Was that the kind of sex she liked? Edgy. A little rough.

He liked sex that way, raw and primal, but he’d been careful to tone that part of him down during his marriage because during the increasingly rare times that Eve had shown any interest in sex, she’d wanted slow and sweet. There was definitely a time and a place for slow and sweet, but so many times he’d been forced to rein that more dominant side of him in so he wouldn’t scare or offend her. Looking back, they hadn’t been compatible at all in most ways, and the lack of sex had been another nail in their marriage’s coffin.

Clay finished off his beer, watching Zoe. He couldn’t be sure, but he got the feeling she wouldn’t balk or be scared if he let his rougher side out in the bedroom. Hell, he was pretty sure she’d welcome it.

His groin tightened at the thought and he shifted in his seat to ease the suddenly snug fit of his jeans. Dammit, he had to stop letting himself go there in his mind. She wasn’t for him, plain and simple.

“Yo. Bauer. Hello?”

He looked across the table to find Evers snapping his fingers in Clay’s face to get his attention. “What?”

“I’m getting another round. Want another one?”

He glanced back at the dance floor. Zoe and Schroder were still going strong. “Sure.”

As Evers left to go to the bar, Tuck leaned back in his chair and followed Clay’s gaze, a fond smile on his face. “It’s good to see her loosen up like this.”

Clay shot him a surprised look. Since when was Zoe in need of loosening up? “What’s that mean?”

Tuck turned his head toward Clay and shrugged. “She doesn’t go out to bars much. Likes to keep to herself. Introvert. You know how she is.”

No, Clay realized with a start, he didn’t. Tuck’s description of her didn’t mesh at all with the confident, outspoken woman Clay had come to know. Or thought he’d known, anyway. Now he was even more fascinated by her.

The fifth song came to an end and finally Schroder escorted Zoe back to the table, a hand on the small of her back. Clay studied his teammate’s face. The former PJ was leaning close to Zoe, grinning at something she said, his body language protective, almost possessive.

Something raw and territorial lit up inside Clay, its ferocity taking him off guard. His teammate wasn’t doing anything wrong. Clay couldn’t fault him for his clear interest in her, and Schroder was a good guy, but he still wanted to walk over there, yank that guiding hand off her, and replace it with his own.

God, you’re so fucked up.

Thankfully Evers returned to the table with the next round just as Zoe and Schroder sat down, preventing Clay from having to analyze his unconscious reaction. They spent the next hour shooting the shit—well, Clay mostly listened and tried not to keep looking at Zoe—then Schroder slapped his palms to the wooden table.

“Bourbon Street,” he declared, his too bright eyes telling Clay the medic was feeling his three hurricanes. “Who’s in?”

“I’ll go, for a while,” Evers said.

“Not me,” Zoe said with a smile. “This was my biannual dance fest, and now I’m going to go home and work.”

“Work,” Schroder said in a confused voice, his expression making it clear how disappointed he was that she was leaving. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I know, but as you can plainly see I’m a creature of the night and it’s when I’m most creative.” She shrugged. “If it ain’t broke…”

“Zoe’s a writer,” Tuck said over the noise of the band when Schroder continued to look confused. He started to push back from the table. “I’ll take her home then meet you guys. Bauer, you want to go with them, or—”

“Bauer can take me home,” Zoe interjected, and they all looked at her. She stood, slipped the strap of her purse across her bare shoulder. “If you don’t mind,” she added, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.

He should say no. It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, make some excuse about having to go with the others, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he found himself nodding as he pushed back from the table and stood. He looked at Tuck. “I’ll text you once I’m done, meet up with you guys.”

Tuck was no idiot. His gaze shifted from him to Zoe and back, then he nodded. “Sure.” He came around the table to give his cousin a hug, kissed her cheek. “See you later.”

“Yeah. Come by when y’all are done barhopping if you want. I’ll still be up. I can make you guys some coffee before you hit the road.”

“You’re a gem, Zo.”

“I know,” she said, giving him a bright smile, the easy affection between them making something in Clay’s chest tighten. Hell, she’d even won over his mother in the short time they’d spent together when Clay had first been released after his surgery.

Zoe turned to him, her smile dimming a little. “Shall we?”

Clay nodded and followed her toward the door without a word. He stayed right behind her, his big frame opening up a path for them, casting warning looks at two guys he saw gawking at her breasts. Others stared at her with open curiosity, sweeping the length of her body to take in her outfit.

Clay hated both reactions, even though she didn’t seem to notice them or care. The air of unshakable self-assurance in who and what she was only strengthened the protective urge inside him. Instinctively he stepped closer, until he could feel the warmth of her body against his side. With every step he battled the need to put a hand on her cinched waist in a clear gesture for every man in the room to stay the hell away from her.

He was still at her back when she turned down a darkened alley, he assumed for a shortcut, and reflexively grabbed her shoulder to halt her when he saw two people arguing up ahead. Zoe stiffened when she noticed them—a woman up against the wall, the man with a hand around her throat. The guy froze and turned his head to look at them.

Clay pushed Zoe behind him and stood his ground. “Let her go.” The words came out more of a threat than a warning and when the man shifted Clay could see the pistol held in his grip.

He reached back and gave Zoe another push in a silent command for her to run. She didn’t, instead staying riveted in place behind him. His body was tense, ready to lunge for the mugger. Though he was armed, his weapon hidden in his waistband, if he pulled it things would only escalate and he didn’t want Zoe anywhere near this asshole if a shot was fired at them.

Pinned against the wall, the young woman stared back at them with wide eyes, hands clutching her purse. A high-pitched, frightened sound squeaked from her throat. As if the noise startled the man into motion, he gave the woman a shove, sending her sprawling to her knees, turned and ran for the opposite end of the alley.

Clay took off after him, sprinting past the woman, his gaze locked on the mugger, who wheeled to the right at the end of the alley and disappeared from view. It wasn’t until he’d turned the corner in pursuit that his brain finally caught up with his instincts. The woman was okay and he couldn’t leave her and Zoe back in that alley undefended. He skidded to a stop, jogged back to them.

Zoe was on her knees next to the woman, talking quietly. She stopped when Clay got close, looking up at him in the dimness. “She’s not hurt from what I can tell. Just shaken up.”

Nodding, he crouched down in front of the woman. “Can you stand up?”

She bobbed her head once, shoulder-length blond hair swishing around her face and pushed to her feet. “He c-came out of nowhere,” she quavered, her whole body shaking as she held her purse to her chest.

“Did he take anything?” Clay asked, pulling out his phone.

“N-no. Thank God you showed up when you d-did.”

Zoe set a comforting arm around the woman’s shoulders and rubbed her hand over her upper arm as Clay dialed 911.

“No,” the woman said, taking him by surprise. “He didn’t take anything and it was too dark to get a good look at him. This night has been eventful enough without me having to go to the police station to file a report. If it’s all the same to you, I’d much rather just go back to my hotel.”

Clay exchanged a look with Zoe, who nodded and he relented with a sigh. “We’ll get you a cab.”

“Thank you.” The woman allowed Zoe to lead her back to the main street, arm wrapped around her.

As soon as they’d put her into a cab, Clay turned to face Zoe and put his hands on his hips. “Why the hell didn’t you run?” he demanded. “The guy could’ve taken a shot.”

She raised her chin and met his gaze without flinching. “So I should’ve just left you there alone? He could’ve shot you as easily as he could’ve shot me.”

He aimed a glower at her. “I’m trained. You’re not.”

“You’re also
unarmed
. At least I had this,” she said, holding up a canister of pepper spray he hadn’t seen her pull out of her purse.

Staring at the small cylinder, he had to fight back a snort of incredulous laughter. He was glad she had sense enough to carry it with her, but seriously? That against a gun? He shook his head at her. “I’m always armed, Zoe.” And he knew how to disarm someone with his bare hands if necessary. “Let’s get you back to your place.”

Before she found any more trouble.

Zoe stopped at the entrance to her place and reached for the combination bicycle lock holding it shut, her hands slightly unsteady from the adrenaline rolling through her veins. Every cell in her body aware of Clay standing just a few feet behind her, a silent, looming presence. He was still angry, but he could just get over himself anytime now. Even though the incident in the alley had scared her, running away and leaving Clay to face the threat alone was completely insulting to everything she stood for.

“Want me to do that?” he asked, obviously seeing her hands were unsteady.

“No, I’m good.”

“It’s normal to feel like that,” he said, causing her to glance up at him. “Adrenaline crash.”

“I’m fine. Just angry that piece of shit and others like him are still walking free in this city.” She went back to working on the combination.

He made an impatient sound as she fumbled with the last number on the lock. “Please tell me you’ve got an alarm system or something inside? Because that pathetic excuse for a lock is enough to give me nightmares.”

Smothering a grin, she angled a look at him over her shoulder, unprepared for the way her belly did a somersault at the sight of him standing there. Six-four and probably two-thirty, his dark hair cut into a skull trim that made his angular features even sharper. Those electric blue eyes bored into her, intense and assessing, the soft, black cotton of his T-shirt stretched taut across the sculpted muscles in his chest and shoulders. The grim set to his expression should have made him look even more foreboding but somehow only made him sexier.

Oh, lawd
. “I do.”

Helpless to stop herself, she snuck a quick glance down his arms, hungrily taking in every dip and swell of his biceps and triceps, then down to the flat, hard stomach before stopping at his hips. She wanted to keep going but ogling him this way wasn’t going to help her cause for getting him to go to the next level with her.

She forced her gaze back to his face, met those vivid eyes and felt an answering echo deep inside. Much as he tried to hide or ignore it, she knew she wasn’t the only one affected, either. She’d seen the way he looked at her a few times tonight, as if he was imagining what they’d be like together in bed.

She already knew the answer to that. Freaking
amazing
.

“Despite what just happened, this part of town’s pretty safe and there’s always lots of foot traffic around so if anyone tried to break in someone would notice,” she said as she finished unlocking the gate. Unwinding the chain from one side, she swung the intricate wrought iron aside with a metallic squeal and held it open for him. “Right this way.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, and she could tell what he was thinking. He’d walked her home, had assumed she’d let herself in the gate and then he’d leave once he knew she was safe.

Zoe had other plans in mind. She waved him in. “Come on, I don’t bite.”
Unless you want me to.

His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile, and he stepped through the gate, securing it behind him with a clang. She liked the sound of him locking the two of them in here alone, away from the rest of the world. As he stepped forward the curved entryway immediately felt smaller with him standing in it, his wide shoulders blocking her view of the street behind him. “Just for a bit,” he said.