Dirty Trick (4 page)

“Same to you, and trick or treat.” He let his gaze linger on her breasts for far longer than was comfortable. “Want to give me something good to eat?”

She almost threw up in her mouth but managed a tight smile. “Remember how we talked about that kind of stuff?”

“I know, but it was just a joke,” he protested, all hurt eyes and defensive body language. “Come on, that was funny.”

Not even a little bit. “Most women aren’t going to agree, so unless you want to be single forever, you’ve got to tone it down.”

He nodded, but she could tell it went in one ear, through the cobwebs, past the mental spank-bank, and right out the other. She sighed and gave him the once over.

“Okay, I give up.” He was wearing his regular clothes, with the exception of a utility belt that held a copy of
The Notebook
, a Hershey bar and a box of rubber gloves. She shook her head, nonplussed. “What are you supposed to be?” She was fairly certain she didn’t want to know.

The faux-indignation faded and he treated her to a shitty grin. “It’s a surprise. If you’re nice, I’ll tell you later.”

She bit her lip hard until the desire to tell him to piss off had passed and nodded. “Ah, a man with secrets. All right, then. Well, hope you enjoy yourself tonight.” She turned and, in her haste to catch up with Serena, ran straight into what felt like a brick wall. “
Oomph
!”

The wall had arms and used them to steady her. “Sorry to roll up behind you like that. I didn’t expect you to wheel around.”

Maybe it was the hastily drunken glass of wine. Maybe it was the smell of the crisp aftershave he wore. Maybe it was the husky, low voice, almost a whisper. Maybe it was the relief at having escaped John before she said something she’d regret, but the sudden desire to wrap her arms around the giant man in front of her hit her like a knockout punch. Tingles started low and radiated outward, spreading through her body like sunlight.

“N-no, I’m sorry,” she sputtered, pulling back. “I didn’t…”

The rest of that sentence died on her lips as she looked up into the most amazing eyes she’d ever seen, with the possible exception of Trick’s. They were electric green, like a cat, and it took a second for the rest to sink in. Wait, he
was
a cat.

Not really, she amended quickly. He was wearing a cat mask. Not like kitty cat. More like exotic, big jungle cat. The tawny leather jacket and tan pants he wore matched the shading and lent to the sleek, powerful look.

Me-ow.

Had her useful-to-everyone-but-her tingles decided tonight was the night to finally kick in? Well, Hallelujah.

“That mask is unreal. It’s so lifelike,” she murmured, lifting her hand to touch it before stopping herself. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know you and I’m pawing your face.”

“It’s cool,” he said. “Cats paw each other all the time.”

She laughed, her embarrassment fading in the face of his easy charm. He had a nice smile. Firm lips and, from what she could tell in the mood lighting, straight white teeth. She was such a sucker for nice teeth. She found herself wishing she could see the rest of his face under the mask.

“And I guess we should be scared of you, packing heat and all.”

She managed to tear her gaze away from the handsome stranger to glance down at the gun strapped to her hip. “Nope. I only hunt vampires.”

He grinned again. “I guess that’s good for me, then.”

She was about to respond, but something gave her pause. She would have bet money she didn’t know him, but…“Is that your real voice? It sounds so familiar. Are you a client of Love Will Find a Way, or have we met before?”

Chapter Three

Shit.

Less than five minutes in, and he had already almost blown it. He hadn’t thought out the voice thing at all and, under pressure, had somehow wound up imitating Christian Bale in Batman. Now he was going to be stuck talking like that all night. It sucked, but he guessed it was better than if he’d gone with his John Wayne impression.

To be fair, it wasn’t his fault. He’d practically swallowed his tongue when he’d seen her. He’d gotten the backside view first and, if he wasn’t so painfully familiar with that sweet, heart-shaped ass, he wouldn’t have even recognized her. It was all so out of character. The short skirt that skimmed the middle of her thighs nipped in at the waist in a way that sent his blood rushing south. The black, nearly opaque stockings did nothing to hide the shapeliness of her legs. In fact, they only made him want to see what was underneath even more.

And then, she’d turned to the side and he’d gotten the full, profile view. He’d had to swallow a groan. Cheerleader-ghost his ass. With a bustier of some sort wrapped around her soft parts like paper on a present he would kill to unwrap, she was hell on wheels. And the little cap perched on that grab-able mass of curls was so fucking adorable, he could hardly stand it.

That’s what made him nuts about her. She was hot sex, warm smiles, and icy determination all in the finest package he’d ever come across. After watching his brother settle for a marriage based on common interests and compatibility, and his own years of mindless sex with women who’d expected nothing more from him that that, he was painfully aware that he was the kind of guy who wanted it all. And damn if Grace Love didn’t have it all.

She stared at him expectantly, and he realized she was waiting for an answer. His voice. Right.

“Nope. Not my real voice. I was going for sexy and mysterious. Is it working?”

“Actually, it sort of is.” Her lips tilted upward in a bemused smile.

His stomach dipped a little, and he frowned. As much as he’d hoped she wouldn’t recognize him, a small, twisted part of him was jealous that she was flirting with this stranger in a way that she never had with him. How fucked up was that?

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. All good. I was just realizing your hands are empty. Can I get you a drink?”

She hesitated, sending a look toward Serena, who was standing beside the DJ booth talking to Chaz, who’d clearly opted to dress up as a douchey vampire.

She nodded. “Sure. That would be all right. I was drinking dry red, but anything is fine.”

He led her to the bar and was about to order her preferred brand of Pinot Noir when he caught himself. “I’ll take a glass of Cabernet and whatever seasonal beer you have.”

They’d gotten their drinks and he’d stuffed a fiver into the bartenders’ tip jar when a lilting voice carried their way. He looked up to see Serena stalking toward them in a get-up he could only describe as B-movie bombshell. She eye-balled him hard up and down and then grinned.

“Well hello there, stray kitty cat. How did you get in? And more importantly, would you like a bowl of cre—”

Grace cut in with a gasp. “Serena!” she turned to him and laid a hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry. She’s such a jokester, sometimes. I’m not sure if I introduced myself. I’m Grace Love and this is my partner Serena Finch.”

Serena frowned, shooting him a “What the fuck?” look, and then flicking a glance at Grace before settling her gaze back on him again. She recognized him.

Balls.

The mask obscured the most recognizable parts of his face, he’d worn contact lenses, a generic pair of pants and shirt, a coat he hadn’t worn in years, and even used a different brand of soap in the shower. He’d thought he was basically home free. He should have known better. For every trusting bone in Grace’s body, Serena had two of the opposite. While Grace would cheer the most novice of magicians, gasping in delight over card tricks, Serena would’ve heckled Houdini himself. Her nostrils quivered pretty much non-stop, like she was perpetually trying to sniff out bullshit.

And he’d just attempted to serve her up a giant pile of it.

He held her gaze and tried to manifest the force, hoping to will her into silence.
Come on, Serena, do me a solid here…

She faltered for a long moment. “Uhm…”

He stayed quiet, hoping Grace didn’t notice the pulse pounding in his neck. Hoping even more that Serena would get the hint that he didn’t want to identify himself, and, if she did, that she would be willing to keep his little secret. At least until she had the chance to rake him over the coals about it in private.

“And what did you say your name was?” Serena asked softly. He didn’t miss the hint of menace in her tone, letting him know in no uncertain terms, if this game he was playing might hurt Grace in any way, she was going to out him right now.

“I didn’t, actually.” He said with what he hoped was an easy smile. “I’d like to keep my identity on the DL for now. Working for an air of mystery.”

Serena held his gaze. “And why is that? Hoping to score with some nameless cutie and then walk away without so much as giving up your name and number?”

Damn, she was a tough one. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Not even close. Just hoping to spend some time with this pretty woman for a while without any pre-conceived notions. To see if we click.”

She seemed satisfied and stuck out a hand, treating him to a dazzling smile. “Well, good luck tonight, then, Catman. Or, should I say, Batman.”

Interesting. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who thought he and Grace were meant to be together.

“That’s where I recognized that voice! Too funny,” Grace said with a laugh.

“Glad to help,” Serena said with an exaggerated curtsy. “I knew my obsession with Christian Bale would come in handy someday.” She gave him one last long look, then snapped her fingers and whirled to face Grace. “Oh, so listen, I talked to Chaz. Things are going great so far. He and I have a mini-date for a game of one on one strip poker at midnight. He said he’s willing to listen to my pitch as long as the game is in progress.”

Trick had to bite his tongue. Chaz was harmless, and Serena could chew him up and spit him out, but he didn’t like the idea of a friend having to take off clothes in a room alone with the guy. He was still weighing his options on how to say something without giving himself away when Grace burst into a fit of laughter.

“How in God’s name did you get him to agree to that?”

She raised her brows. “Easy. All I did was lean in and ask nicely.”

“And I imagine you didn’t think it was necessary to tell him that you’re a card mechanic.”

“He didn’t ask,” Serena said, with the shrug of her slim shoulders.

That made him relax some. He should have known she wouldn’t put herself in a situation that she didn’t have under control, at least not intentionally. She was one savvy woman, and more than once, he’d found himself wishing that Grace had a little more of that in her, if only for her own safety. Not tonight, though. Tonight her trusting nature was the key to getting her to realize that he was a changed man. One who could be a lot more than just a friend if she would let him.

The thumping music came to an abrupt stop, and something smooth and funky took its place.

“I’m going to go find a dance partner. I’ll be around, but I have my phone if we can’t find each other,” Serena said to Grace. “You two have fun.” She didn’t wait for a reply before turning around and diving headlong into the expanding crowd.

He bit back his sigh of relief. It was nice to know that she was on his side for the moment, but he fully expected to have to give her a full report the second she managed to get some time alone with him, which would
not
be tonight, if he had anything to say about it.

“I guess you’re probably wondering what we’re up to…”

He stared at her, confused.

“With Chaz.”

She eyed him questioningly, and he realized that he should have asked questions, like a person who didn’t know them and didn’t know what a game of strip poker had to do with a pitch would.
Shit.

She shrugged. “Well, at any rate, we’re hoping to sign him on as a client with Love Will Find a Way. That’s our matchmaking company?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

Her smile at that admission almost blinded him. “Serena’s got him on the line for a one-on-one, so fingers crossed.”

“That’s great. Yeah, I just didn’t want to seem nosy by asking, but fingers crossed for you guys. He’d definitely be a high-profile client.”

She seemed pleased by that response and got quiet for a second. “So,” Grace asked, in a voice almost too low to hear. “Do you, uh, dance at all?”

He tipped his head her way, and they locked eyes. He knew exactly how big of a step that was for her. She wasn’t the type to make the first or even the second move, so some part of her must be feeling something for Catman. Or maybe she felt safe in this crowded room, semi-hidden in a costume. Whatever the reason for this relative boldness, it sent his senses into overdrive. He didn’t do a whole lot of dancing, but even if she’d invited him to do the Harlem Shake in a pit of vipers, he wouldn’t have denied her.

“Sure,” he said and held out a hand. “You wanna?”

She nodded and set her glass down on the nearest table before taking his hand. He drained his pint glass and put it down next to hers, noting the tremble of her fingers in his. He knew the feeling. His whole body felt that way. How nuts was that? The last woman he’d been with had shown up on his doorstep at two a.m. wearing nothing but a raincoat, armed with handcuffs, hot fudge, and something that looked like a bridle, but this—holding Grace’s soft hand—had him in fucking knots.

It wasn’t like it was the first time they’d touched. There had been plenty of times he’d helped her over a steep part of a trail during a hike, or he’d given her a piggyback when her feet were tired from walking in heels after a night out. Hell, they’d played chicken in Serena’s pool over the summer, and she’d literally had her thighs wrapped around his head. But in spite of the resulting hard-on, it hadn’t felt like this. Full of possibility. Ripe with promise.

He had a chance.

For the first time ever, he had a shot of her looking at him with fresh eyes. Not as her buddy, Trick. And, more importantly, not as the guy who’d gone in that first day with a full-court press in hopes of getting her to sleep with him. She’d been so distraught early on, he’d aborted that mission fast. He loved sex, but only when both parties knew exactly what they were getting into. Whatever this pretty, young newcomer’s issues were, he wasn’t the guy to work through them with her.