Rumor (A Renegades Novella) (3 page)

He pulled his gaze from the new performers and scoped out the bar, which filled one long wall of the club. He needed to get a look at all the women on the floor to eliminate the possibility that the Grace he was looking for worked there.

Two female bartenders worked behind the heavy, shiny wood expanse, wearing red lace corsets and velvet Santa hats. Two more women stood by holding trays, wearing some sort of elf suit. Their emerald-green skirts were trimmed in white faux fur and so short, their black-lace-covered ass cheeks showed. Their matching halter-style tops were cut deep in the front, exposing plenty of plump cleavage. And their boots—thigh-high, sleek, and black patent, like their low-slung belts.

Josh immediately pictured Grace in that outfit—or at least tried. But his mind couldn’t fit those puzzle pieces together. As long as Josh had known her, Grace had never worn anything more revealing than a sundress.

Josh pushed his hands into his pockets and wandered toward the bar, where he leaned against a stool, searching every elf for Grace’s cute little strawberry-blonde bob. Booths lined the walls, individual tables took up the center of the club, and premium plush seating ringed the stage up front, where men called out to the women and slipped dollar bills into sparkling G-strings.

Several dancers milled among the patrons, chatting, touching, taking them by the hand and leading them up a spiral staircase to private rooms. Josh had never been in one, but he knew exactly what went on in there—guys were not shy about spilling every detail of their strip club encounters. The thought of Grace selling herself that way made him sick and doubled his determination to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her.

“Hey, handsome. Haven’t seen you here before.”

Josh didn’t exactly startle at the seductive female voice behind his left shoulder, but his muscles went rigid. He turned to face a tiny woman with big brown eyes—and big, bouncy tits barely covered in a green velvet halter. She too wore a Santa-style hat, this one green to match the elf getup, sporting a big fluffy white fur ball at the point. She caressed the sleeve of Josh’s sport jacket with one hand, the other holding an empty tray against her hip.

“I’m Stephie.” She tipped her head and looked up at him through thick black lashes heavily coated with mascara. “Why don’t you buy me a drink while we get acquainted?”

A heavy, powdery scent wafted off her, along with her body heat. His nerve endings seemed to spread along the surface of his skin and sing to attention. Which meant, yeah, definitely too little sex in way too long, because she wasn’t his type at all.

“Actually…” He pulled a twenty from his pocket. “I’d appreciate it if you could point out Nicole for me.”

Her eyes lowered to the bill, then returned to his, a sly little smile on her lips. She slipped the twenty from Josh’s fingers with an enthusiastic “Easiest twenty I’ve made all night.”

She turned and pointed toward a shadowed corner where a group of rowdy younger men sat near the stage. A woman stood between two chairs, her back facing Josh. She was leaning forward, her hands braced on the men’s shoulders.

The woman who went by Nicole wore a one-shouldered, skintight black dress that clung to every luscious curve and barely covered her ass. Tanned legs stretched long and lean beneath the hem, made even longer—and sexier—by the sparkling spiked heels she wore. One side of the dress had diamond-shaped cutouts, showing a nice amount of evenly tanned skin all along her body, right down to her hip. The fabric gathered and was held together with clear rhinestones down her side. There was no way she was wearing anything underneath.

Josh didn’t recognize her as Grace. This woman had copper-colored hair falling in curls to the middle of her back. Right color—wrong length. And Grace had always been thin, with a more boyish straight-up-and-down figure. Josh would have noticed curves like those.

Wouldn’t he?

“In the black,” Stephie said. “Nicole. That’s who you’re looking for, right?”

“Don’t think that’s her,” he told Stephie. “But thanks.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please. Jack and Coke. Double would be good.”

“Be right back.”

When he slid his blazer off, his bad shoulder pulled, reminding him of the football incident. He tossed it over the back of the chair, and rolled up his sleeves before sitting, his eyes locked on the woman in black, waiting for a glimpse of her face. But his peripheral vision was picking up the brazenly erotic moves on the stage, and combined with the music, the lyrics, and the atmosphere, Josh’s body was definitely responding. His cock had grown thick, and the confinement of his slacks added pressure along his length. His heart was beating too fast, his body was too hot, his throat too tight.

The woman laughed, throwing her head back, and her hair—a shade darker than Grace’s, he was sure—fell down her spine like a sensual waterfall. A man came up beside her, and she turned and greeted him, exposing the stylishly and incredibly sexily cut side of her dress. Yep, she definitely had amazing curves. He tried to remember Grace wearing anything that would have accentuated curves but couldn’t. Tried to remember feeling them during the occasional hug—again, nothing.

Yes, he’d purposely been trying
not
to notice, considering she’d married his best buddy and fellow SEAL teammate, but still…

She reached up and hugged the older man. Since this wasn’t Grace, Josh let himself survey all that gorgeous skin, taking in her small waist, full hips and, once again, checking out the length of those sleek thighs. And he was plenty warm by the time he lifted his gaze to the woman’s face again.

Familiarity burned along his sternum and across his ribs.

Grace.

“
Holy…shit…” He stared, trying to convince himself he was mistaken. Her heavy makeup was messing with his mind—Josh had never seen Grace with more than a trace. But then she slid her hands down the older man’s arms, rested her fingers in his, and smiled. And that grin was something Josh would never mistake—right down to the right-sided dimple near her mouth.

It’s Grace.

His stomach jumped, skipped…and plummeted. Grace was working in a strip club. Wearing a barely there dress that showcased every asset, makeup that turned her from sweet to seductive, and laying her hands all over strange men.

He pushed to his feet, hands clenched, then rethought and sat back down. He had no rights to her. No say in her life. He’d given all that up when he’d walked away.

But he still cared. And she wouldn’t be here, doing this, unless something was wrong. He could still help, despite their past.

She continued talking with the older man. They turned toward the stage, leaning into each other, talking over the music, and the man slipped his arm around her waist, his hand settling low on Grace’s hip. The intimacy of the touch made Josh’s fingers curl into fists.

Stephie showed up with his drink. Josh didn’t even give her time to set it on the table. He took it straight from her hand and tipped it back, taking the whole thing in one swallow.

“Ooooh-kay,” Stephie said in a half laugh. “I assume that means you’d like another?”

“Please.”

The older man moved his hand up her back and kissed Grace on the temple before wandering off through the club. Grace made her way to a dancer straddling a customer’s hips near the stage. With a very friendly stroke of her hand over the man’s shoulder, Grace glided around behind the dancer, put her hands on the woman’s waist, her chin on her shoulder, and let her body follow the movement.

“What in the fuck…?” Josh murmured, unable to pull his gaze from the erotic sight.

Grace’s hands slid lower, gripped the woman’s hips, and urged them into a sexier roll. She spoke to the client as she thrust, easing the dancer’s hips into a more rhythmic thrust. He nodded, eyes big, mouth open like a drooling puppy, and Grace smiled, a sultry, seductive smile Josh had never seen before. The dancer dropped her head back to Grace’s shoulder, raised her arms to wrap them around Grace’s neck, and turned her face against the skin of Grace’s throat.

Patrons sitting nearby cheered their approval of the girl-on-girl action, and the heat simmering in Josh’s body rocketed through his groin and up his chest. He fought to search out the what, the how, the why of this, but his mind floated in distracting titillation.

“Here you go.” Stephie set Josh’s second drink down.

“Thanks. Keep ’em coming, will you?” he asked.

“Who are you?” Stephie asked. “Her new bodyguard or something?”

Josh’s gaze broke from the erotic sight of Grace getting it on with two others and focused on Stephie. “Why? Does she need one?”

“I personally think we all need one after what happened last week. But, no one’s springing for any service, so I guess we’re relying on our monkeys in suits.”

“Stephie!” Someone called from close by. “Need another drink over here, sweetness.”

She glanced at Josh again. “I’ll bring you another in a few.” Then she darted through the shadows to another table.

When Josh returned his gaze to the lap dance, Grace was gone, the original dancer still going at it with her customer.

He scanned the area and found Grace weaving through the club, greeting men, group by group, stopping to talk for a moment, then moving on. No lap dances. No running to get drinks. Josh couldn’t figure out the setup.

Josh downed the next drink in two swallows, but the first was already hitting his bloodstream, making him bolder, braver, and—he knew from experience—far more stupid. It also made him forget all about that nagging pull in his shoulder.

When the song changed and the women on stage transitioned once again, Grace watched closely, then scanned the club like an overseer, her gaze pausing on every girl as they worked the room. And Josh could only compare her behavior to a lion watching over her cubs.

He was trying to figure her out while fighting complex emotions he was sure colored his perspective when her gaze passed over him. Then her eyes jumped back and held on his face with a spark of shocked disbelief. A sizzle broke out across his ribs. No turning back now. She’d seen him. She knew he didn’t belong here. She knew this wasn’t a coincidence.

But having her intense gaze locked on him made his chest ache.

Fuck, he’d missed her. Missed her friendship, her laughter, her quick mind. He hadn’t realized until now, their gazes locked yards apart, just how hollow he still felt without her in his life.

Her brow pulled tight. Emotions flashed in her eyes. And Josh felt a direct connection between them across the space. She started forward, never breaking eye contact. Josh took a slow, deep breath and tried to smooth the edge of raw nerves.

Stephie showed up and set his third drink down with a perky “I’ll check back.”

Josh had never seen Grace look so absolutely stunning. This was not the girl he’d left last year. She’d always been strong and smart. But this woman was more—more secure, more confident, more in control. Josh had never imagined finding that so damn hot, but watching her walk toward him with all that self-possession was sexier than a brand-new M4 submachine gun.

She paused two feet away, searching his face as if she still couldn’t believe he was real. The alcohol had definitely flooded his veins. He couldn’t get words out of his mouth while his head and heart were swimming with monologues he wanted to spill all at once.

“Josh?” She dropped to her knees, right there in front of him, hands on his thighs. Those clear blue eyes he’d known so well for so long searched his. “Are you okay?” Her gaze darted to his shoulder, his arm, back to his face. “Is your shoulder okay?”

He managed a nod.

Her hands tightened on his legs. “Has something happened to Isaac?”

His gaze slid lower, to her chest and the way the dress pulled her breasts up and together. She was luscious. A whole different woman than he’d expected to encounter. One that made him crazy with lust.

She cupped his jaw and lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Josh? Is Isaac okay?”

The sweet gesture pulled at all those buried memories. He covered her hand with his. It was small and warm, just like he remembered. “Beck’s fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” Tension drained from her shoulders and the fear in her face cleared as she sat back on her heels. But only a moment of relief passed before confusion…and a little suspicion…filled her eyes. “Then why are you here?” she asked. “And how did you find me?”

Grace glanced at the two empties sitting on the table beside Josh as he reached for another half-filled lowball glass. He was drinking faster than the waitresses could clear.

“Josh?” she asked, prodding him to answer her earlier questions.

“I’m in town on business,” he said, voice rough, gaze staring into his drink—which probably meant he was lying. “I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.” Now he looked at her, those beautiful eyes of his filled with barely veiled accusation. “So, I stopped by your town house to say hello and found you don’t live there anymore.”

Oh…shit…

All her muscles tightened up.

“The new owners,” he said, “were nice enough to give me your forwarding address.”