Blindfold: The Complete Series Box Set (5 page)

And he'd never complained.

Dammit.

He wasn’t Mr. Lang in my head any longer.

All because he’d pushed to take care of his little sister.

Family mattered.

Unaware of my distraction, my mother sighed at the stove, shaking her head. “How awful. Those poor kids.”

“I don’t think
poor
is the right word, Mom,” Vic said as he got a beer from the fridge and went back to his chair.

My dad passed behind Vic at the worst possible moment for my brother. The crack to the back of my brother's head was hard enough to sting, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

“There’s more to life than money, Vic,” Dad said, shaking his head.

At sixty, my father was still as strong and broad as he’d been in his twenties, although his brown hair had long since gone to gray. He claimed that we were responsible for scaring the life out of it. We probably were. Vic more than any of us.

I smiled at my dad and he winked at me before moving up behind my mom and grabbing her around the waist, planting a loud kiss on her neck.

She laughed and leaned into him for a minute before elbowing him back gently. “Come on, Thomas. If you keep that up, it'll be midnight before we eat.”

“Good things come to those who wait, my beautiful Margie.” He nuzzled her for a moment longer, and then moved away, sneaking a scoop of the potatoes she was mashing. He fired a look at me, his brows arching. “So, the Langs. Deacon told me. They okay with you leaving in six months?”

I looked down at the table, tracing my fingers over the wood grain. “I didn’t exactly tell them.”

Silence filled the room. Or as much as it could with my nieces and nephew wrestling around in the other room.

Dad broke it with a heavy sigh. “Antoinette Gallagher…”

“Please don’t.” My face burned. My parents rarely ever used my full name. “I felt bad doing it and I did tell the guy at Winter Enterprises that I was finishing up my degree. He said that Isadora thrives on change and he doesn’t think it will be an issue when I leave. And…”

I got up then, moving away from the table and my brothers and my father – and my mother. They weren’t going to like this next part, but they had the right to know, especially if Isadora was right and Ash's background check was insanely thorough.

“So, I mentioned that Isadora was raised by her brother. He’s like…well, crazy overprotective of her. I mean, like worse than all of you guys put together. Even though
Exclusive
did my background check, he doesn't think theirs is good enough.”

I stared out the back window over the postage stamp that made up our backyard. Dad had inherited this house from his parents. We were lucky that we actually
had
a house. If Mom and Dad ever decided to sell it and retire somewhere, they might make some serious cash. Real estate in New York was insane.

“Toni.” My dad’s voice was level, but I recognized the tone well enough. It was the same one he’d used on me when he caught me trying to sneak out when I was fifteen and had wanted to go to a party.

Slowly, I turned to face him. “He's digging deep. I mean, not just like if I have a police record or anything like that. He's looking into everything. Where I live. School. Family and friends. Everything and everyone.” I didn't want to add the last part, but they needed to know. “He's even had someone following me the last couple days to make sure that I'm not hiding anything.”

Then I waited for the explosion.

***

“Well. That went well.” I gave my mom a bright smile as she sat down next to me on the swing. I’d retreated to the back porch while Deacon and Vic cleaned up. It was their turn and a damn good thing. If I had to stay inside much longer, things might have gotten ugly.

Mom reached over and patted my thigh, concern on her face. “Are you sure you want to work for somebody who goes digging into your background like that? Who has someone following you?”

“Mom, he’s just protective of his sister.” Gesturing to the house, I managed a partial smile. “Come on, you should understand that. Remember how it was when I first started dating?”

To my surprise, she laughed. “Do I ever. I kept thinking I’d have to bail one of them out of jail. Or worse…sit through a trial.” The humor faded from her eyes and she looked over at me. “But it’s not really the same thing, is it? The young woman…she’s twenty and he still hovers like she’s a fifteen year-old kid going out with the captain of the high school football team. You've never been in any trouble. You're going to school to help people. He didn't need to have you followed.”

“I shouldn't have said anything.” I sighed. “But I didn't want one of the boys to see someone lurking around and freak out.” I gave her a weak smile. “You might not have gotten out of bail after all.”

“That just seems...extreme.”

“I know, Mom.” I shoved my hair back and lifted my face to the sky. “I...look, I get the feeling there are things that made him this way. But I can handle it. It's not like the PI he has looking into me has done anything or even gotten too close. Besides, Ash – Mr. Lang – isn’t my employer. Isadora is.” Abruptly, I started to laugh. “You should have seen the look on his face when I stood up to him. I don’t think he’s ever had anybody get in his face and go toe-to-toe with him before. You’d think somebody had stuck a lemon in his mouth. A rotten lemon.”

“Maybe you’ll be good for both of them, then.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “But remember, Toni, if it comes down to it, you don’t have to stay someplace where you’re miserable. Your father and I can give you the money for school. The business is doing better than it was last year...” I started to shake my head, but she lifted a hand. “Don’t argue with me. You’ve done so well, taking care of everything on your own, but I’m not going to see you give up on a dream when you’re so close.”

She stood up, but before she could walk away, I caught her hand. Squeezing it, I said, “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

Her smile said everything.

Chapter 5

Toni

Friday evenings were for my family, but Friday nights were for me. I spent most of my time working, going to school and/or studying, so by the end of the week, I needed to unwind. Sometimes wine, a hot bath, and a good book were enough. Sometimes, I needed something more.

My favorite club was close to my minuscule apartment – and I do mean miniscule. There'd been a TV show on a few years back that had featured making the most out of some of the efficiency apartments in New York. I knew some people thought that show had exaggerated, but it hadn't.

My entire apartment could have fit in my parents' bedroom and bathroom. There was enough room for my murphy bed and a small kitchenette. My desk was the tiny little breakfast nook at the end of the kitchen counter. Clever use of vertical space gave me bookshelves and places to store my clothing, although reaching them required a step-stool since I was so damn short.

After dinner, I swung by my place to change. I couldn’t exactly wear the sort of clothes I’d wear to go dancing over to my parents, and I wasn’t going dancing in jeans and t-shirt.

The smoky blue, spaghetti strap dress went a few inches past my butt and clung to what little curves I had. It highlighted my assets and played up the fact that while my legs weren’t long, they were a damn good pair anyway.

The dress, combined with a pair of shoes that wouldn’t kill me in a matter of minutes, took all of ten minutes to change into. I swept my hair up into a loose knot, dusted on light make-up, and was out the door.

There were a few whistles and catcalls, but I ignored them all. A woman in New York had to learn how to handle ignorance, and generally, pretending the nuisance didn't exist was the best thing to do.

The club was already packed by the time I managed to make my way inside. I went straight for the dance floor, waving at a few familiar faces, but before I managed to reach them, I bumped into a broad, muscular chest.

“I’m sorry.” I had to shout over the pounding music.

A pair of deep, dark eyes met mine, and a slow, sexy smile spread across a face so sinfully handsome, my heart did a slow roll in my chest. “Please, don’t be.”

I grinned up at him. Damn, he was fine.

His dark eyes went nearly black, and that shiver of heat inside me turned into something a little more. He moved in closer and dipped his head so we didn't have to yell. At the same time, he held out a hand. “Dance with me?”

He didn’t have to ask twice.

I’d seen him around more than once and he was almost always with a different woman. That didn’t bother me. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, just some fun. And the man could dance like nobody’s business.

One dance turned into two, and I could feel the stress of the past few weeks sliding away, dissolving until there was nothing but music and rhythm and a hard, strong body that matched mine beat for beat.

The fast pace slid into a slower one, and instead of assuming, my partner gave me a questioning look. I appreciated the courtesy and moved in closer, bringing my hands up to loop around his neck. He rested his hand on my hip, his eyes still on me, and I moved in closer. The hand on my hip settled more firmly, and I rested my head on his chest.

He smelled like soap and bourbon, two scents I could appreciate on a man, and when he spun me around in a lazy twirl, I started to laugh. My feet tangled in the next moment, and I almost tripped as my eyes landed on a figure standing in a pool of light near the bar.

Half of his face was in shadow, but the rest of him...all hollows and angles and brooding eyes. He was looking right at me, and there was no mistaking that face.

Ash
.

My partner steadied me, and I jerked my head around to meet his concerned gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, lowering his head to speak directly into my ear.

I nodded, looking back to where I thought I’d seen Ash.

But he wasn’t there.

I was imagining things. I had to be. There was no way someone like Ashford Lang would be somewhere like this. This was a club for people like me. People who actually had to work for a living.

Forcing my mouth into a smile, I moved closer to him, trying to settle back into the rhythm we'd found. “I couldn’t be better.”

I didn't know if he heard me, but judging by the glint in his eyes, he caught my meaning just fine. He slid one hand down my spine until he reached the small of my back, guiding my hips until we were moving in tandem.

The dance was slowly becoming more intimate, and it wasn’t very hard to stop thinking about what –
who –
I'd thought I’d seen.

Right up until I saw him again about ten minutes later.

I managed not to trip this time, instead, ducking my head and spinning myself around to press my back up against my partner’s chest. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and even as I searched for Ash, I had to appreciate the solid length of the man at my back. And one part of him was getting even more solid as I ground back against him...

Ash had disappeared.

Again.

Was he here?

Or was I imagining things?

Why would I be imagining him though? That was a question I really didn't want to think about.

Hard, calloused hands stroked down my shoulders, and I shivered a little as he moved me back around. The music changed, but I was sweating and in need of a break. My partner must have either sensed it or needed a break as much as I did, because he started to lead me off the dance floor towards the bar where I'd seen Ash. Or, at least, where I thought I'd seen Ash.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear.

“I buy my own.” I gave him a quick smile. This wasn't a date and I didn't want him to mistake it for one.

He nodded, unfazed, and flagged down the bartender.

Once we had our drinks, he bent over me so he could talk without having to actually shout. “You got a guy watching you. You know that?”

I almost spilled my drink.

Again, he steadied me, his hand curling over my elbow and staying there. “Don’t look over there yet, he’ll just get lost in the crowd.”

“You sound like you’re a pro at this.”

“I’m a cop.” He grinned at me and shrugged, taking a sip from his beer.

A cop. I studied him thoughtfully for a moment, and then shook my head. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Throat dry, I looked down at my vodka martini, and then took a healthy swallow.

“It’s my pretty face.” He winked and then nodded off to the side—the right side. “Glance over to my left, casual, like you’re looking for the ladies room or something,” he advised, reaching out and stroking a hand down my shoulder.

I did, trying not to think about the way his skin felt against mine. It had been a while since I'd gotten laid. Far too long.

My gaze collided with Ashford Lang.

This time, he didn’t look away.

For a beat of maybe five seconds, we stared at each other, and my heart pounded harder with each moment that ticked by. I suddenly didn't feel my dance partner's hand anymore.