Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3) (14 page)

Zed turned to gaze into tawny-colored eyes, the color of whiskey left overnight in the glass next to the bedstand. Wisdom and hard won compassion stared back at him. “You don’t get to mess me up or call me my brother’s bitch. And don’t you ever lay your hands on me like that again,” Zed said with quiet, fierce intensity.

“Understood. I think we’re square now. I get where you’re coming from, and I hope you get where I’m coming from. I like to find the edges right from the get go. Makes no sense to pussyfoot around the issues.” Mitch fished around in his pocket and pulled out a white business card. “You passed the test.”

“Whoopee. What did I win?” Zed said with a scowl.

Mitch placed the card on the table and slid it toward Zed with one finger. “This here’s a private number. Call it anytime, day or night. If I’m not on my motorcycle, on the road, I’ll answer.”

Zed hesitated before picking up the card, certain once he touched it a commitment would be made. “What if I don’t want to take it?”

Mitch shrugged. “I didn’t do my job correctly then. I’ll have to contemplate my actions and see where I went wrong. People walk through my door for a reason. I aim to listen to my heart and do what’s right. I may have blown it today. Too much, too soon. I thought you could take it. I thought you were ready. You’re tougher than you think you are.”

He listens to his heart?
Zed thought.
Is he for real?
The card sat between them as Zed considered whether or not he wanted what this scary dude had to offer.

“You have a good woman?” Mitch asked.

“No. Maybe. I started seeing someone recently. It’s already going down differently. She says she’s in it for more than sex.” A small half smile appeared on Zed’s face. “She makes me feel…I dunno, I feel different around her. I like her a lot. But I’m scared to tell her about my brother. Seems like a deal breaker to me.”

Mitch nodded sagely. “Yeah. Imagine telling the gorgeous woman across from you—the one you’re aching to be with, imagine telling that fine woman you’re a convicted felon. And convincing her you’ve changed your life around.”

Zed let out a short laugh. “When you put it like that, telling Beck my brother’s a murderer doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Feel it out. Don’t blurt it out until you’re ready. You should’ve seen me. I had two agendas with my woman. One, tell her I’m a felon, and two, ask her to marry me. She ran at the first one. Got mad at me because she said she’d already fallen in love with me. I thought I’d lost her for good. She came around, saw I meant what I said about changing and…” He shrugged. “Here we are.”

“How’d she deal with the proposal?”

Mitch laughed. “Still working on it. We’ve been together for years. Moved in together, right here in this fine house, once she learned to trust me. I love her and her kids to pieces. There’s no rush. She’s not going anywhere, I’m not going anywhere.” Mitch picked up the business card and extended it to Zed with two fingers. “So, that’s my story in a nutshell. Are you in or are you out?”

“Yeah, okay, give it here.” He took the card from Mitch, took out his wallet, and tucked it inside the folds. “You’re right next to a condom.” He chuckled.

Mitch laughed. “I can’t help you with that, man, you’re on your own. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Zed mulled over the meeting with the psycho ex-con, Mitch. He called Beck on the way to the bar where they were to meet. “New plan. Can you meet me at the marina? I need fresh air and open space, not a stuffy bar.”

“Sure,” she said. “No problem. I’m running late so I’ll just hook a U-turn and head toward the water.”

The second he hung up, his phone rang again.

“Guess what?” his mother said, in a chirpy, cheery voice as soon as he answered.

“Tell me. I’m not in the mood for guessing.”

“Your brother’s retirement kicked in sooner than later. He injured himself on the battle field so…”

“Didn’t die, huh?”
Shit.
The sentiment slipped out before he could filter it. “Sorry, he what?”

“What did you say?”

Shit, shit, shit. Forget I said the first part.
“I asked you what you said.”

“Which part?”

“Repeat what you said.” Panic rolled through him like a sudden storm.

“You heard me. Your brother’s coming home. He also said he’s going to compete in the triathlon. When I told him about it and how you’re in it, he said he simply
had
to participate. Isn’t that wonderful? Rickie will have two uncles competing to save Murphy.”

Zed’s head fell back on the headrest.
Fuck. He’s going to try to kill me in the competition.

“I’m sure you’ll be in different classes or levels or whatever they have in those kinds of races. You don’t need to worry, Zed.”

“What would I be worried about?” The words burst from his lungs like angry hornets.
The fact that he threatened my life and he’ll have a good chance to off me now? That trumps whether or not he wins the fucking race.

“Zed,” his mom said in her “poor Zed” voice.

“Zed, what? Honestly, Ma, did you call me to gloat? To let me know that Rickie now has a relative in the race who stands a chance of winning? Not like your son who tries hard but never makes it in your eyes?” Stunned silence met his ears. Zed expected it to fall any second and shatter into broken bits of ice in his lap.
Crap, is this the result of my meeting with Mitch? Now I blurt things out without thought of consequences?
“Sorry, Ma, I’m, uh, a little tense. I just got out of a meeting, and uh…”

His mom sniffled in his ear.

Shit. I made her cry.
“Look, you called at a bad time. I’m sure you’re thrilled Lawson’s coming back so soon.”

“Why can’t you be more like your brother? Why do you have to be so sensitive?”

You mean, why do I give a shit…about anything?
Now it was his turn to breathe ice crystals through the phone.

“I’m sorry, Zed. I know you try.”

There it is again…the
try
word.
Zed’s jaw clenched, as tightly as if it were in one of the clamps he used to glue wood together. “Ma…” he said, carefully choosing his words, “have you looked at me lately? Have you seen or heard any of the things I’ve done? The Farm
is thriving…because of
me.
I have two patents pending on a soil boost that knocks the socks off of any other product on the market.

“I have a home to be proud of…
I’m
designing it, not Lawson. It’s
my
hard work being put into the place. And you have a show worthy yard and garden because of
me.
”  Zed’s body shook from saying things he’d never said to his mother. He never stuck up for himself. His breath lodged in his throat as he waited for her response.

“I love my yard,” his mother finally said.

Well, at least she heard one of the four things I said.
Zed gripped the phone like a hammer.

“But…”

Here it comes.

“I didn’t call to talk about you. I called to give you the news.”

Kill shot.
“Thanks. Duty done. I’ve gotta go.”

“Don’t you want to hear the rest?”

“Not really, no.” His eyes landed on beautiful Beck, leaning against her red Mustang, arms crossed, legs crossed, a grin as wide as the horizon on her face. “Someone’s waiting for me.”
Someone who gives a shit.
“You can tell me later. Or better yet, tell Caitlin and she can fill me in.”

“What’s gotten into you? You behaved horribly at the party. Why do you feel the need to fight with your brother? What’s he ever done to you?”

“Will you please stop with summaries of me and my behavior?” He tried to gentle his voice. “For a few years, I might have gotten around and you heard about my party exploits, it’s true. But Lawson’s no saint, guaranteed.”

“No one’s a saint, dear.” And as if he’d given her the green light to start chatting about his brother, her mouth went into overdrive, talking about Lawson this and Lawson that.

He didn’t even register, focused on Beck’s expression. She seemed to welcome him. She seemed to like him, as is. “Gotta go, Ma,” he said again. “I’ll talk to you.” Not even hearing her splutters, he hung up the phone.

He slid from the truck seat, striding to where Beck stood.

“Hey, cowboy,” she said with that saucy smile of hers. “Let go of the hay bale.”

“What?”

She chuckled. “Sorry, I had this image of you when you came to the parking lot of Tapt’s to get your truck. I pictured you as one of those handsome, burly cowboys who toss bales of hay like they’re cotton puffs.”

“Should I say thanks?” Zed cocked his head to the side, uncertain. He couldn’t recall being called burly before.

“Oh, yes. It’s a very sexy image. It conjures
all kind
s of fantasies for me.”

Damn,
Zed thought, his recent conversation blowing into the breeze billowing off the water.

“But what’s bugging you? You do seem to be carrying a heavy load.”

“Family bullshit. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? I’m a good listener.”

“Thanks, honey, but no. It’s nothing but bullshit. I’d rather focus on you. I’d rather…”
not feel like Waldo around you.

“When you call me ‘honey,’ Zed Farrell…” The look in her eyes dripped wicked, sinful torture.

“Yeah? What happens…Beck
honey
?” A smile played at the corners of his mouth, wiping Waldo from his mind.

She made a sound like an explosion, splaying the fingers of both hands by her head, her eyes glittering like fireworks. “That’s what my insides do.”

He smiled. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a very good thing. I’ll give you a taste if you like.”

“Oh, I’d like that
very
much.”

“Then get over here.”

In two quick steps he stood in front of her. “I come when you call, honey.”

Her delightful laugh rose from her throat, beckoning for him to let go. “I’ll remember that.” Once again, she grabbed the lapels of his light jacket, pulling him down toward her.

His mind spun into one mushed up wad of driving lust, as hungry lips met even hungrier lips.
Lawson? Who’s Lawson,
he quipped in his mind before strengthening his hold on her. This woman seemed to surrender to him, to melt in his arms like chocolate on his tongue. “Damn, Beck honey,” he said, once he’d wrested himself away.

“Five alarm fire here,” she said, fanning her face. “So what do you want to do before I further seduce you?”

He coughed. “Shouldn’t that be my line? Isn’t that what a burly cowboy says?”

“No,” she said, smiling. “Not politically correct. You know, I don’t want to appear weak in your eyes.” Her eyes danced with mirth. “That’s so twentieth century.”

He laughed. “No, we wouldn’t want that.” He took her hand, kissed it, and began to walk toward the water’s edge, surreptitiously adjusting his jeans. “How was Minnesota? How was your training?”

“Jeez, I learned a lot. Oh, look!” She fished around in her pocket and retrieved a business card. “I’m official. I figure I should carry them around to promote myself. What do you think?”

Zed stared at the card, filled with pride. “I think it’s wonderful, sweetheart. Good for you. So tell me about the training.”

“Well, I learned a lot of specialized techniques. I sat in on some training in PTSD, but nothing that qualifies me to practice it. The techniques that inspired me were all about restoring body movement to injured soldiers. I’m looking forward to specializing on military personnel. You know, soldiers injured in combat.”

Zed winced when she said this.
What are the odds of Lawson being sent to her office? Low, right? Isn’t there a military hospital in Bremerton?

“And the most amazing thing happened at the Denver airport. We had a brief layover there, right? I get off the plane and who should I run into but Tyler. He had a Mariner’s game there.” She shook her head. “I figured I was headed for another tongue lashing and wanted to sprint back on the plane but he actually apologized to me. I mean, talk about unreal. Last I saw him he threatened to torch my couch. None of my exes have been kind like that. It’s been clothes on the front lawn, hateful words and stormy good-byes. Which I may or may not have deserved.” She smirked.

“What did you do to might or might not deserve such behavior? If you don’t mind telling me.” Fingers of doubt began pushing through Zed’s head.

“Oh, I’ve been rather willful. And like I said, I could never commit. They wanted commitment, if you can believe it. Usually, it’s the other way around, right? But no, not with me.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “I’m telling you this because it seems to indicate a change in me. Or I hope it does.” She paused, turned to study the effect her words had on him and asked, “Are you okay with that? Are you thinking I’m still not over him? Or wondering if I’m able to commit to anyone? Because if you are, I can assure you, you’re the only guy I want, Zed.”

The look of absolute certainty emanating from her eyes made his heart skip.

“It’s like…I felt like I dropped into an alternate reality, warp zone Denver. Besides the fact he’s dating again, he agreed I was right—we weren’t compatible. Weird, huh?” Her eyes slid in his direction, then darted away like a hummingbird. “You, however, feel like a perfect fit.” Her lower lip ended up between her teeth.

His cock did that little twitchy thing it did around her, competing with the caution swirling in the back of his mind. “Thank you, sweetheart. Let’s hope my troubles with my family don’t change your mind about me. Or your unwillingness to commit. But I don’t want you to commit to something…to me, I mean…if it doesn’t feel right. I told you, I’m damaged somewhat by my past.”

“Zed,” she said, shaking her head. “Relationships aren’t about perfection. They’re about growing together. If I can’t handle situations that arise, I shouldn’t be bothering to get to know you.” She waved her hand in the air, like shooing away a bee.

He regarded her through half-mast eyelids, mouth parted, completely beguiled, yet unsure if he could truly trust her words. It sounded hopeful, but actions spoke louder than words.
Let’s see how she does when I tell her my brother is a murderer.

They wandered past the RV Park, toward the north side of Port Townsend, water gently lapping at their feet.

“Let me tell you about my family so you can see where I’m coming from. My dad, Leon, is a great guy. You’ll like him. He’ll like you, guaranteed. He’s one of those warm, salt of the earth kind of men. Loves his dogs. He’s the one who got me hooked on Labradors. He works on cars, like I said. Loves to buy and restore old cars, flip them for a profit. Loves to listen to music, from classic rock to R&B, hip-hop to soul to pop.

“My mom, Irene, lives in Italy. She loves color, opera, passion and sadly, not my dad any more. She and my dad split when I was about seventeen. Nothing awful, no huge fights, they simply grew apart. She fell in love with Antonio, an Italian, like her. Dad’s Irish and Italian. Odd mix, huh?” She turned and smiled.

Zed scoffed. “No. It’s like you and me.”

“Right,” she said. “Good point. I can see how it’s perfect. And let me tell you, I love my dad. Heaps.”

She gave him a sweet smile that made his heart flutter.

“How am I doing?”

“I love hearing about you. Everything about you interests me.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles once more.

“No kidding?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nothing. It’s nice, is all, to be liked for more than my…” She blushed and turned away.

“I like that, too, Beck honey. Can’t wait to keep exploring. You said we’re in this for more than the sex. I’m the same. I’ve had my share of fooling around, playing it loose, but…that part of my life is over. I’m not a superficial kind of guy. I want something…” He looked at her through his eyelashes. “More like someone I can sink my teeth into.”

“Good God, Zed,” she said, doing that fan her face thing. “I can tell. That’s what I’m discovering. That’s what I like about you. You’re complex. Mysterious. A lot of layers.” Again her lip made its way between her teeth, her agate and moss colored eyes looking like deep pools he could fall into and never touch bottom. “So, Mom gave me the Italian sofa before she left. It’s a massive leather couch. A sectional.