Authors: Janice M. Whiteaker
It felt so good, her touching him. He’d never been
touched by someone like Gwen. He’d been with more than a few women.
A fact he was less than proud of, but none made him feel the way he felt right
now. He’d never wanted to touch a woman so bad it hurt. And they’d
certainly not been this eager to touch him.
Everything about Gwen was different. Everything about
her seemed right.
That was why he needed to hit the pause button. He
pulled his lips from her. “Sweetheart, there is nothing I would like to
do more than let you keep running your hands all over me.”
He loosened his grip on her so he could look at her
face. Her cheeks were flushed, her dark blonde hair mussed and fly
away. “But?”
“But not in a barn.”
She looked around and blew out a breath. “Fair
enough.”
Two hours later they were finally, finally being seated for
the dinner he’d been trying to accomplish for what felt like forever. Gwen
had just finished the last of the white wine she ordered while they waited at
the bar when he felt his phone buzzing in his front pocket. He slid his
hand in and sent it to voicemail. Whoever it was, would have to wait.
“Good? Want another glass.”
Gwen nodded. “It was very good, but I will wait for
some food or else you’ll have to carry me home.” She gave him a smile
from across the candle lit table.
His phone started buzzing in his pocket again. He
pulled it out to shut it off, but seeing Heath’s name made him pause.
He looked at Gwen. “It’s Heath.”
“Answer it or Gabbi will start calling me.” Gwen
sipped at her water as he connected the call.
“Where’s Gwen?” Heath’s voice was tight.
“She’s with me. What’s going on?” He glanced over,
his eyes meeting hers.
“Keep her with you. Something’s going on with the
Sixes. We need to talk. Hurry up.”
Gwen sipped at the chalky caramel colored beverage they were
trying to pass off as coffee. Heath offered the drink, then disappeared
with Joe for an amount of time that could have involved picking, roasting and
grinding the beans in addition to brewing them into the sludge filling her cup
now.
Joe sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders
and leaned in close. “How is it?” His voice was low, as if they
were discussing some private matter instead of coffee so full of grit she could
almost chew it.
“It’s shit.”
He gave her a tight smile as he rubbed her shoulder with the
tips of his fingers. If they weren’t sitting in the police station right
now, she would love to cuddle up against his side and close her eyes, letting
that gentle, rhythmic touch calm her nerves.
But they were at the police station and it was royally
fucking up her evening plans. “What the hell is going on?”
Heath pulled out a chair across the table from them,
slapping a folder down in front of him. “We have a problem.”
Her brother-in-law looked tired. His shirt was rumpled
and he had bags under his eyes. He looked up at her, then at Joe as he
tapped his pen against the manila cover. “You want to explain this or do
you want me to?”
Neither man made a move to begin talking and she was getting
more than a little irritated. She looked down at her small foam cup
trying to determine if it contained enough liquid to hit them both. She
eyed Heath, trying to judge distance.
“
Dammit
Joe. How does she
not scare you?” Heath opened the folder. “I found out one of Joe’s
former associates may have thrown him under the bus.”
Gwen straightened up and looked at Joe. “What does
that mean?”
“Somebody from the Sixes got picked up and told the police
things he shouldn’t have.”
“The Sixes?”
“The uh, group Joe was involved with.”
“I know that. The biker gang.”
“Club, yes.”
Gang, club, who the fuck cared? “What I’m asking is
why?” She pointed at Heath. “You said everything was fine.”
Heath blew out a breath. She turned to Joe.
“What does this have to do with you?”
Joe hesitated. “It sounds like the club figured out
somebody squealed.” He looked at Heath.
Holy Jesus, this was like pulling freaking teeth.
Could no one simply tell her what was happening? “And?”
“He told them it was me.”
Heath flung his pen onto the table as he leaned back in his
chair, rubbing his eyes. “Shit.”
Joe had been out of the gang for years. How would his
name be the one that this guy picked to point the finger at? “Why
you? I thought you said everyone liked you.”
“Like, in a club, is relative. There were people I had
problems with over the years. This guy was one of them.”
“What was the problem?”
Joe looked at Heath.
“I’ll come back.” Heath grabbed his folder and left
the room, closing the door behind him.
“I caught him being rough with one of the girls who hung
around. Let him know that wasn’t an okay thing to do.”
Gwen set her shit coffee on the table and leaned forward,
elbows on knees, face in hands. This was insane. She rubbed her
temples as her mind raced. Suddenly her stomach dropped.
She jerked her head up. “You said if you told the police
too much, they would have killed you.”
Joe stayed quiet beside her.
“
Ohm’god
.” She sat up
straight. “Oh my God.” She stood in front of him. “Is
that really what this means? Is that why you’re here?”
“That’s why we’re here.”
Wait.
“You are shitting me!” No fucking way. She
didn’t do anything. There was no fucking way she was going to have
anything to do with any of this shit.
She grabbed her purse off the table and grabbed the door
handle. It was locked.
She banged her hand against the steel. “
Goddamnit
Heath. I swear to God I will call Gabbi.”
The door opened. Heath and two uniformed cops blocked
her way.
“I’m going home.” She stared down the three men, all a
good six inches taller than her. She almost smiled as each, shifted
uncomfortably under her glare.
“You’re not.”
She turned to look back at Joe. He shook his
head.
“Where, may I ask, do you think I am going to go then?”
Heath held out his hand. “Give me your cell.”
He’d lost his damn mind. “No way.”
“Gwen, all somebody has to do is swipe your phone and they
have everything they need to find all the people you care about.” He
opened and closed his outstretched hand, waiting for her to give in.
She thought about Gabbi and the girls. Son of a
bitch. She slapped the phone into his hand, getting some satisfaction
when he winced.
“Plus I don’t trust you.” He handed the phone to one
of the cops behind him who slid it into a bag marked with her name.
“What?”
“You aren’t the kind of woman to run scared and that makes
you more likely to make stupid mistakes that could get you hurt. I need
your house keys.” He held his hand back out. “And if you get hurt
on my watch, your sister will kill me and I don’t really feel like dying over
this either.”
Cop Heath was kind of a dick. She might like him
better this way. “Don’t have keys. I use the keypads.”
The cops exchanged glances before the two uniformed officers
left, taking her phone with them.
“I get that back, right?”
“Only if you’re nice.” Heath smiled at her. She couldn’t
help but smile back.
Heath was a nice man and a good cop. Hopefully a
really good cop and this could all be worked out in time for her to go to work
Monday. She was ass deep in restructuring the way she ran her
office. She had a life to plan.
“You still haven’t told me where you’re sending me.”
Heath wiggled his eyebrows at her. “You get to enjoy a
lovely stay at the Hotel
Mariott
.”
“You could at least spring for the Hilton.” If she was
going to have to spend her whole weekend hiding out like she was in witness
protection, it could at least be a comfortable one.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m happy to give you my card for the upgrade.” She
smiled sweetly as she pulled out her wallet and held out a black
AmEx
.
“And that’s why I don’t trust you.” He plucked the
card along with the wallet out of her hands. He leaned around her to look
Joe's way. “You’re
gonna
watch her, right?”
“It’ll be fine.” She felt Joe’s hand on the small of
her back.
“Do I at least get to go get some of my stuff?”
Heath was already turned and walking down the hall away from
her. Joe’s hand pushed her gently ahead of him as they followed
behind. “They’ll take us home and let us pack what we need while they
check our places for anything odd. Then we get dropped off and they try
to sort this out.”
He made it sound like a normal way to spend a weekend and
maybe for the guys driving them around it was, but this was not normal.
Normal people didn’t end up spending a weekend holed up hiding from outlaw
biker gangs.
Normal people made dinner and went to movies and talked
about their hobbies and their crazy family members. She wanted all of
that. She wanted a nice normal life. With Joe.
Heath directed them into another small room. “Hang out
in here for a second. It doesn’t look like the guys are ready to head out
yet.” He turned and headed down another hall as Joe led her into the room
and closed the door behind them.
One second she was fumbling across the wall in the darkened
room feeling for a switch, the next, her feet were off the floor and her back
was pressed against the wall, pinned in place by the pressure of Joe’s body
against hers.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” She felt his lips move
softly across her neck moving slowly toward her ear. “I will make this up
to you. I promise.”
His teeth caught the lobe of her ear, gently scraping as his
tongue flicked against it. She gripped his arms, the thought of him using
that same technique on other parts of her body making her head spin.
He continued to nip and taste at her skin. Heat rushed
through her body, collecting between her legs. His mouth found hers, his
tongue immediately filling her mouth with the taste of his.
The door handle jiggled. “Joe, man. They’re
ready to go.”
Maybe normal was overrated.
****
Joe laced Gwen’s fingers with his as they sat silently in
the back seat of an unmarked cruiser on their way to the Hilton. Joe
promised to reimburse Heath after it was all over. It was the least he
could do. Gwen seemed to think this was going to be a weekend trip and no
one had the balls to tell her that might not be the case, instead letting her
float along as if this would all be over soon.
Maybe they were right.
But probably not.
He rubbed his thumb across the soft skin on the back of her
hand. Since the call from Heath, he hadn’t wanted to let her out of his
reach, let alone his sight. Knowing she was in danger, probably even more
than he was, meant there was a distinct possibility he would lose his mind
before this was all over.
The night sky was turning from deep midnight blue to a
smothered black as heavy clouds moved in from the east, low and
threatening. It would be pouring by morning. At least the weather
would make it easier to be inside.
Gwen’s head hit his shoulder as she nodded off. It was
late. She was exhausted and probably hungry. And he was an ass for
putting her here.
“Can we stop and grab some food before we hit the
hotel?” He shifted to one side, careful not to disturb Gwen, and pulled
out his wallet handing the cop driving the car a twenty.
“Sure.”
They pulled through a drive-through and he ordered a burger
and fries and a chicken salad. Most women liked salad.
He looked down at Gwen.
“Give me another burger meal too.”
A few minutes later he was ushering a semi-lucid, soda
carrying Gwen through the hall with one hand and carrying all their bags with
the other, the food tucked under his elbow.
He slid the key card through the reader, the deadbolt making
a loud click. As he pushed open the door a frigid gust of air smacked him
in the face.
“Holy shit it's cold in here.” Gwen wrapped her arms
across her front as she headed to the air conditioner at the far end of the
room. She opened the cover and fiddled with the thermostat while he
emptied his arms, dropping their luggage on the floor and laying their dinner
out on the two
seater
table in the corner.
“Are you hungry?”
“I am starving. Some guy was supposed to take me to
dinner, but instead I got to help him unclog a toilet and enter the witness
protection program.”
He cringed. “Yeah, this isn’t really how I imagined
we’d be spending our night either.”
“Really?” The closeness of her voice surprised
him.
He turned around to find her right behind him. “How
did you imagine we would be spending our evening?” Her voice dropped low
as she rested her hand on his chest, the heat from that one point of contact
burning like it was on fire.
They were alone. Alone in this room for who knows how
long. He swallowed.
Up until this second, his only concern had been to make sure
she was safe. He didn’t want her out of his sight until he knew this was
all over, that no one was going to try to get to him through her. Now he
was rethinking the situation.
He was set on making sure he gave Gwen exactly what she
deserved before things went any further between them, physically. A nice
dinner, a proper date. Show her how he intended to treat her for the rest
of...
“What’s wrong?” Gwen’s hand still rested on his chest,
but the suggestive look on her face was gone.
“I was teasing before. I know this isn’t your
fault.” She slowly took her hand off his chest and stepped back.
“Did you get me a burger?” She glanced at the table and then back at him,
her face uncertain.
He’d spent many nights around a poker table at the house
with the guys from the club and he’d always done well because no one could ever
read him. No one but Gwen apparently. She seemed to be able to
sense even the slightest shift in his mood. And then call him out on
it.
At least this time she didn’t seem to know the exact thing
that was worrying him. Not yet.
“I got you a burger and a salad. I wasn’t sure what
you’d feel like eating after the evening we’ve had.” He pulled out his
burger and fries and sat down across the table from her as she started
unwrapping hers.
“I’m starving and that salad isn’t going to cut it.”
She was halfway through her burger when she paused to look
up at him. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”
“I don’t know.” He wanted to give her a better
answer. He wanted to tell her what everyone else seemed happy to say,
that they would be home by the end of the weekend, but he wouldn’t lie to
her. “I’ve never really had to deal with this before.”
It was true. He’d been lucky enough to escape the club
without ending up on their bad side. Until now.
Unfortunately, he was the exception to the rule when it came
to the kind of men who ran with those clubs. Most of them wouldn’t bat an
eye at hurting someone, anyone, if that’s what they were told to do. He
had seen what they did to people they felt betrayed them and it wasn’t
pretty.
He shoved the rest of his food back, his appetite
gone. If they got a hold of Gwen and hurt her, because of him, he would
never be able to forgive himself. She sat across from him, blissfully
unaware of the danger she was in.