Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (11 page)

“I just want to be with
you
and I’m going to take whatever you feel ready to give me.” King touched her lips. “The most important thing…no, scratch that… the
only
important thing is your recovery. That’s it. Nothing else matters to me, and nothing else should matter to you, either. If that means that we spend the next six months talking over coffee and watching movies and I get to hold you sometimes, I think that’s a pretty fucking good deal since it means you won’t be doing any of that with anybody else. I’ll take that with a smile. You hear me?”

“Yes.” The word tore from her throat, thick and raw and vulnerable, and he heard it. “I just want to be with you, too. When you said that I’d never see you again after tonight, it scared me to death. I – I don’t want alcohol to lose me one more thing. I don’t want to lose you, Matt.”

“You won’t, I promise you. Now come here.” He held his arms wide open and she moved in to them now, with no hesitation. Naomi just rested on him, just let herself relax on him. He was warm and steady, and every breath that he took made her sink deeper in to him. Minutes passed, and they felt like seconds.

With nothing but regret, King drew back slightly now. “It’s getting late. You feel ready for me to take you home? You steady enough to be on your own tonight?”

She nodded.

“Good. Let’s go.” He stood up and tugged her to her feet. “Call me when you wake up tomorrow, and I’ll take you for coffee. Sounds good?”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Nine

“So, let me get this straight.” Mirrie shifted in her seat. “King, of the tattoos and scary eyes, is courting you. Like – like a fucking knight from days of yore or something. Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“You guys will go for coffee and you’ll talk and he’ll never make a move on you? All chivalrous and gentleman-like? For real?”

“For real.” Naomi sipped her orange juice. “We’re going to get to know each other better.”

“Jesus Christ.” Mirrie contemplated this. “I never use this word, and I sure as hell never thought I’d use it to describe Matt Kingston, but that is damn sweet.”

“I know, right?”

“Expectations?”

“Who?” Naomi said. “Me or him?”

“Either. Both.”

“Well. I think there’s a pretty clear expectation that we’ll give this a shot when I feel that I’m ready… what
that
means, I don’t know yet.”

“Dating?” Mirrie was relentless. “Kissing? Sex?”

“I don’t know. I – I guess all of the above.”

Mirrie leaned back. “Then you’ll have to talk to King about what happened.”

“I know.” Naomi stared at her hands. “I realize that.”

“Hey,” Mirrie said gently. “No rush, you know. You talk to him when you’re ready, and you can’t force yourself to be ready.”

Naomi nodded.

“And for what it’s worth? I think he’ll be amazing about it. I mean, he’s surprised me so far – and I don’t surprise easy.”

“I know.” Naomi smiled now, a real smile. “He was incredible last night, and he met me for coffee this afternoon, and we talked for three hours. I mean, I knew he was a good man, but I didn’t see that level of acceptance coming.”

“You’re damn lucky and you deserve it. So, enjoy him, OK? Take your time, talk to him. And when the time is right, tell him about that night. Yeah?”

“Yes.”

**

“So,” Jax said to King. “You and Naomi left the auction together last night, huh? Went back to your place?”

“Yeah.” King drank his beer so he didn’t have to talk any more, looked around Dangerous Curves. It was Saturday night so it was packed, of course, and his eyes skimmed over the women, wishing that he was with Naomi. He suspected that his social life was going to undergo some pretty dramatic changes, seeing as he wouldn’t be taking her to bars at any time whatsoever. He still couldn’t believe that she’d had the guts to set foot in Curves for that first meeting.

“And?” Jax prompted.

King focused on his friend. “And what?”

“What, you’re going all shy and coy on us?” Mac said. “Really?”

King shrugged. “Nothing to tell.”

The other men all stared at him, totally disbelieving.

“Nothing?” Aidan asked. “Not one single thing?”

“Nope.”

“So.” Mac cocked his blond head at him. “You spent the night together?”

“Look, it’s not like that with her, OK? It’s – it’s different. We’re taking it slow.”

“Oh. Oh, right.” Jax grinned as he saw the chance for some payback here. “So you didn’t fuck her?”

King glared. “Watch your goddamn mouth, Hamill.”

“I guess not, huh? Are you here tonight to get laid in one of the crash rooms ‘cause she didn’t do you last night?”

“Jax!” King howled, losing his cool at roughly warp-speed. “I said
shut the fuck up
!”

Mac twigged to what Jax was doing and happily joined in. “So, what are you saying, man? That you’re dating Naomi? Like, exclusively?”

King paused. “Wait. Are you –”

“So you’re just one more pussy-whipped asshole, huh?” Jax’s eyes were bright with suppressed mirth. “Like me.”

King finally gave a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, OK. I was wondering why this conversation sounded so familiar.”

“Yep.” Aidan poured another beer. “Y’all rode Jax pretty hard that night of his first date with Sarah. You were a couple of dickheads, actually.”

“Oh, you weren’t even there,” King scoffed. “How the hell do you know?”

“Because I know you guys. Also, Trey was behind the bar that night and he told me.”

“Yeah, well, we were way wrong about Jax and Sarah.” Mac glanced at King. “We gonna be wrong about you and Naomi too?”

“Yep.” King drank some more beer. “She’s something else, guys.”

“You know that for sure?” Jax said.

“I do. We’re going to take our time, get to know each other.”

“You’re not really a ‘take it slow’ kinda guy, man,” Aidan said. “You’re all about being a man of action and shit.”

“Yeah, well. Not with her.”

“Slow is how me and Sarah started up,” Jax said. “And it was the best damn thing we could have done, really.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s what I want.”

Mac sighed and looked at Aidan. “Looks like you and me are going to be the only single men left standing, Carter.”

Jax smirked. “Aw, I wouldn’t be so sure about Aidan being in your little club for long there, man.”

Aidan stared at his boss. “Huh?”

“Yeah. I know all about your crush on her.”

“Who?”

“Oh, we finally talking about Gabi?” King perked up. “About damn time.”

“Gabi?’ Aidan said, trying hard to play stupid.

The other men rolled their eyes.

“Oh, my God. Please,” Mac said. “Just fess up, yeah?”

Like an audiovisual aid, the woman in question suddenly appeared. She was talking to Dillon, one of Jax’s bouncers, and she was nodding. As the men watched, Dillon handed her an envelope, and Jax knew that Dillon had just given Gabi the cash bonus he’d set aside for her that afternoon.

Gabriela Torres smiled at Dillon and tucked the money in to her purse. Wow, this envelope felt pretty thick and heavy, and she longed to open it up and take a peek. But flashing cash in Curves was a damn stupid idea, even with Dillon Saunders standing right there. The man may be scary as hell but he wasn’t going to be able to follow her to her next cleaning job in a pretty bad neighborhood, so best not to tempt fate.

She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. I start work in forty minutes. Thanks, Dillon.”

“Sure.” His mint green eyes were hard and his body was uncompromisingly huge but she knew he was a good guy. “You take care, Gabi.”

“You too.” She turned now and was startled to see a group of men watching her – a group that included her boss. She blinked, then wondered if she’d done something. She hesitated, then she saw Jax beckoning to her, waving her over, and she approached slowly.

Aidan almost sighed when he saw Gabriela walking over to them. Flowing dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, expressive dark eyes that spoke volumes, a slim but strong body from her years of cleaning bars and hotels for a minimum of ten hours a day. He quickly started to pull a beer that nobody had asked for.

“Mister Jax?” Gabi looked up at her boss. “Is something wrong?”

“No, hon. Nothing’s wrong,” Jax said gently. “You got your envelope, I see.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“It’s a lot of money,” Jax said. “I’d feel better if you let Aidan escort you to your car, make sure you get across the parking lot safe.”

Aidan jumped and beer spilled over his hand. It ran off the edge of the bar and on to his boots, and he muttered a curse. He didn’t miss the gleam in Jax’s eyes for one fucking second, and he actually felt his face turning red.

“Aidan?” Gabriela looked at him, and he loved the way his name sounded in her mouth; her faint accent gave it curves and made it music. “Um. OK.”

“Well, I’d be delighted,” Aidan said, going all Southern and playing up his Texas drawl. He could turn the good ol’ boy charm on and off at will, and it came in awfully handy at moments like this. He walked around the bar, trying hard to ignore the knowing looks on the faces of the other men. “Let’s go, darlin’.”

Gabriela looked up at Aidan, took in his golden hair and eyes. The man was nothing short of panty-dropping gorgeous, and she felt her breath hitch as those amazing eyes stared down at her, steady and bright. Gabi had never seen a man like this before – not in the flesh – and she seriously thought that the guy was as close to perfect as it was possible to get. He dazzled her with his golden glow, and she was always warmed just by standing near him.

Jax, Mac and King watched Aidan hold the door for Gabi, then shoot them a dirty look over his shoulder. They raised their beers to him and he scowled before letting the door slam behind him.

“Anyway.” Mac turned his attention back to King. “Naomi.”

“Yeah?” King said warily.

“When are you bringing her around here so we can get to know her a little bit?”

“Not any time soon.”

“How come?”

“I’m keeping her all to myself for now.”

“Aw, really?” Mac said. “You don’t trust me around the lady?”

King snorted. “I think she’d be pretty immune to your charms, man.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. She’s in to
me
.” King grinned. “Tall, dark and handsome garage owner. Blond doctors with attitude ain’t her speed.”

“Huh.” Mac briefly considered that. “Well, fine. But I
do
get to meet her soon, right? I’ll be a perfect gentleman, and even have Aidan whip her up one of Sarah’s fruity Cosmos. On me.”

King was saved from answering by Aidan returning. He glared at Jax.

“Dickhead,” Aidan said.

“What?” Jax’s face was the picture of innocence. “All’s I wanted was for Gabi to get to her car OK. What’s wrong with that?”

Aidan cursed under his breath again and stomped off to the staffroom. “I’m taking a break.”

“You do that!” Jax called after him. “And take a look at next week’s schedule while you’re back there, yeah? I made sure that you and Gabi are here at the same time most days. You’re welcome!”

“OK, well.” King set down his mostly-full beer. “I’m going to head out.”

“You seeing Naomi tonight?” Jax asked.

“Nope. Tomorrow morning. I’m taking her for brunch at Jenny’s.”

“Really, huh?
That’s
a nice place.”

“Well, she deserves it,” King said. “She worked her ass off on that auction, and I want to help her relax and unwind a bit.”

“I
love
the brunch at Jenny’s,” Mac announced.

“Don’t you even
think
about it,” King growled at him. “You fucking stay home tomorrow morning, I swear to Christ.”

“OK, OK.” Mac held up his hands. “I’ll behave myself. Let you do your whole seduction scene on your own.”

“It’s not a seduction scene,” King said. “It’s a getting-to-know-her scene.”

“Way sexier,” Mac said, giving his friend a real smile.

“Hell to the yes,” Jax agreed.

Chapter Ten

“So am I allowed to ask about your work?” Naomi said cautiously. “Or is the whole topic of King’s Men off-limits?”

“Nothing’s off-limits,” King said. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know – so long as it doesn’t put any of my people in danger or breach client confidentiality.”

“OK.” She thought for a minute. “I’ve heard stuff about the group… rumors.”

“Yeah, me too.” King took a sip of his coffee. “Ask, honey.”

“Uh. Hmmm. Where to begin?” Her dark eyes were considering. “How did you end up running the group? Are you ex-military?”

“Kind of. Not like my team – they’re mostly hardcore ex-SEALs and -Marines and so on. I wasn’t anything like that elite. I was a paratrooper.”

Naomi cocked her head. “A what?”

“I was dropped by air in to some hot zones, usually to help with military extraction and support. My background and training was the Marines, but I was never part of an ops unit. I just parachuted in where they needed me, gave a hand, and moved on.”

“Which hot zones?”

“Iraq, mostly. One tour in Afghanistan, but it wasn’t a full tour. I was discharged on medical grounds.”

“You were shot?” Naomi felt her chest tighten.

“Nope.” He grinned at her. “Blew my knee out.”

She paused. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Jumping’s hard on the body – wrecks your knees and back, and at my height and weight, it was just a matter of time before it happened.” He shrugged. “I came back to Denver, took my college education paid for by the army. Went to law school, actually.”

She choked on her waffle. “You
what
?”

“Yep. You’re having fancy brunch with a lawyer, darlin’.”

She stared across the table at Matt, took in his tattooed forearms and the heavy silver rings on his thick fingers. He had dressed up a bit for their brunch and was wearing jeans and a blue dress shirt; yet again, she was getting tempting little glimpses of that astounding chest. She tried to imagine all that ferocious strength in a law office and utterly failed. Matt’s body was built for warzones, not courtrooms; for hauling injured men over his shoulder, not carrying a briefcase.

“Huh,” she said. “I totally did not see that coming.”

“Nobody does. I like to drop it in to casual conversation and watch people freak out.”

She laughed. “So why don’t you do that anymore?”

“Oh, I barely lasted two years before I quit. I hated it.”

“Why?”

“I was a prosecuting attorney and I got really tired of watching bad people walk away on technicalities and wriggle through loop holes. If a cop fucked up something on the paperwork, or some witness was deemed unreliable, then everything just fell apart. I mean, look at Sarah, right? Beaten almost to death in her own house, and her ex gets ten months. It’s legal but it’s not anything remotely resembling justice.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

“So I ran for the door and started my own company. I hired a few ex-military types to work freelance, and I kept an eye on the legalities. My law background has come in awfully handy on more than one occasion, I can tell you. I know where the lines are, and I make sure my people stay on the right side of them.”

“You’ve never crossed the line?”

King paused. “Once. And I didn’t just cross it, I took a running start and flew right the hell over it.”

“What was that?”

“That was – personal. I let my feelings get in the way that time. Big mistake.”

Naomi hesitated. “Was it about Sarah and Jax?”

Now King was the one choking on his food. “How the hell – how do you know about that?”

“Sarah mentioned something about Jax wanting to – to hurt her ex, Dave. She didn’t go in to details, but she said Jax had gone so far as to arrange for Dave to be brought to him.” Naomi sighed. “I figured that kind of thing was well within what your people can do.”

“Yeah. Well, we did. We found Dave hiding out, dragged him back to Colorado.”

“That was illegal?”

“No. I mean, he was a fugitive, there was an arrest warrant out for him. My people were simply bringing a wanted criminal to the police. He just got – uh – delayed in the delivery.”

“Because Jax was going to hurt him?”

“For starters. But he didn’t. He didn’t lay a finger on him.”

Naomi nodded. “I know. Sarah told me.”

“Anyway, that was the one time that I let my personal relationship with a client or a victim affect my decisions. I should never have agreed to deliver a guy to be beaten by one of my best friends… but to be honest, I was totally on-board at the time.”

“I’d have been too.”

That surprised him. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. Sounds like this asshole had it coming.”

“Maybe. But he’s in the hands of the legal system now, and it’s a pretty unsatisfying conclusion, all things considered.”

“Except that Sarah gets to move on with her life.”

“Yeah.” King smiled and took her hand. “There is that.”

“And the garage?” she said.

“Oh, well. I just like cars and bikes, and I worked in a garage all through high school.” He shrugged. “I just really get the vibe around a place like that, you know? I like to work with my hands. It’s kind of how I relax, really.”

She looked down at his huge hands, ran her fingers over his rings. “Do these double as knuckle dusters?”

He laughed aloud. “They can and they have in some pretty tight corners. But mostly? I just like them.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

King took off the ring on his pinky finger, handed it to Naomi. “For you, baby.”

“Oh.” She flushed. “Oh, no. You don’t have to…”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Even though I highly doubt it’ll fit you.”

She slid it on to her middle finger, twisted it around, tried her thumb. “No go.”

“I’ll get you a necklace,” King said. “You can wear it around your neck. Like high school all over again.”

She giggled, and he watched as her whole face lit up. “I never had a boy give me a ring in high school.”

“No? What kind of dickheads did you go to school with?”

“Oh, no. They weren’t the problem. I was.”

“I simply refuse to believe that.”

“It’s true.” Naomi turned the ring around and around on her finger, absently. “I had my hands full with my Mom. Dating wasn’t really on my radar.”

King paused. “You want to talk about her?”

Naomi opened her mouth to answer when the waiter came to their table.

“Wine is included in the brunch,” he told them. “Shall I pour you a glass?”

“No, thank you,” Naomi said politely. “Maybe another latté, when you get the chance?”

“Of course.” He looked at King. “For you, sir? Perhaps a beer?”

“Black coffee’s fine, thanks.”

The young man nodded and went to the next table. They watched him pour the wine for the other couple, and they looked back at each other.

“You OK?” King said.

“Yes. I’m used to it.”

“I guess you would be. Alcohol’s everywhere, isn’t it?”

Naomi gave him a rueful smile. “It’s impossible to escape… even when you’re seeking an escape.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… I read a book to relax, but the characters are at a party or a bar. I watch TV, there’s a beer commercial. I go to the movies, people are drinking wine up on a big screen.” She looked around the restaurant. “I go for brunch and I’m offered a wine menu. I go to a networking thing for the organization and there’s an open bar. See? No escape. You just have to find a way to cope with not drinking – there’s absolutely no choice in the matter. Hiding isn’t an option, unless you never leave the house again and never turn on the computer or read a magazine.”

“Honey?”

“Yeah?”

“What you said that day in your office about your mother having some problems… is she an alcoholic?”

“Oh, yeah.” Naomi grimaced. “Big time.”

“You want to tell me about her now?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m listening.”

“OK, well.” She thought for a few seconds. “My Dad left when I was six… just abandoned us. He’d been cheating on Mom for a while – maybe the whole time they were together. He left us for a woman with a kid about my age. So, in effect, he left us for another family.”

“Shit,” King muttered.

“Mom didn’t cope well, at all. She’d always been a heavy drinker – it was the cause of many, many fights between my parents – but after my Dad left, she just went right off the rails. She drank constantly, and I was the one who saw it all.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. It was hell and I survived it, but I wouldn’t say that I got out unscathed. I – I grew up not trusting men, not at all. So when it came time to start dating in high school, I literally couldn’t get my head around the idea, and of course, high school boys aren’t the most dependable people on the planet when it comes to romance. It’s all about hormones for most of them, and they’re not mature enough to deal with an emotionally traumatized teenaged girl. In the end, I decided to stay away from guys.”

“When did you get away from home?”

“I don’t know that I fully have, to be honest, and my relationship with my mother is something I’m still working on. I moved out when I studied art, but I was still in Denver, so she’d call me in the throes of some kind of alcoholic crisis or drama. I’d drop everything to get her from the bar or comfort her.” She shook her head. “It was like I’d never left. I did that all through my childhood, and I only stopped doing it recently. Like, about five months ago.”

“She still asks for you to swoop in and save her, doesn’t she?”

“Yes. That day in my office when I was so upset? She’d just called and asked me to come and get her from some dive somewhere. When I refused, she… she got abusive. That’s when I hung up.”

King tightened his grip on her hand. “Damn.”

“It’s OK. I’m doing better. I get better all the time.” She shook herself a bit. “What about your family?”

“Oh, very boring and very average.” He grinned. “Mom and Dad are both teachers, I’m the middle child. Older brother who’s a teacher too and you know Lori, Callie’s Mom.”

“Yes.”

“I was raised middle-class, we had family vacations every summer, usually at some beach house. Played football all through school, but never really wanted to go pro. Delivered pizzas to earn extra cash, got pretty decent grades.” King shrugged. “Just – normal. You know?”

“It sounds perfect,” she said softly.

“Yeah, it really was. Not that I knew it at the time, of course. I thought it was all deadly dull and I couldn’t
wait
to get the hell away from them all and get out in to the real world.”

“They’re here in Denver?”

“Nope. Florida.”

“Wow. You’re a ways away from home.”

“Yep.”

“You moved here for the skiing?”

King laughed. “I’ve never skied in my life.”

“No? I love to ski.”

“You’ll teach me?”

“Sure I will.”

“You promise to catch me when I fall flat on my ass?”

“So long as you promise to not crush me to death when you land on top of me.”

“I’ll try.”

“Well, that’s about the best I can expect, huh?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, trying to get up the guts to ask her something that had been on his mind for weeks. “Can I ask something about your painting?”

Naomi smiled up at him. “You want to know why I don’t paint anymore, don’t you?”

“I do. Is that alright?”

“Of course it is. And the truth is that I was drinking alcoholically the whole time I was painting professionally.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Confession time, OK? I don’t recall painting any of my most successful pieces.”

King stared at her, stunned. “How’s that possible?”

“Easy. I’d get smashed off my face at my studio, then paint all night. I’d pass out eventually, and then I’d wake up on the floor to discover a finished painting that I had no memory doing. But my work was good and I got this twisted idea that it was good
because
I drank. Soon, I couldn’t imagine working without wine.”

“But you stopped painting three years ago, and you’ve been sober almost ten months.”

“Yeah, well. About three years ago, alcohol turned on me. Suddenly, I needed more and more to even get drunk, and then I was just messy and weepy. It wasn’t fun anymore, and I couldn’t paint when I was that drunk, anyway. I lost the balance between drinking and creativity that I’d maintained for years and years, and it scared me and frustrated me, so I stopped painting. I should have stopped
drinking
, of course, but that wasn’t a thought that crossed my alcohol-soaked brain at the time.” She sighed. “By that point, alcohol was the most important relationship in my life – it was my best friend and lover, and
no way
I could break up with it.”

“So you set up your organization while you were drinking?”

“I sure did. I am a
very
high-functioning alcoholic – and the truth is that the whole reason I’ve been so successful at work is because it’s the only place I never drank. It was the one rule that I never broke. I’d promise myself that I’d only have one drink at the bar, but I’d break it and drink to blackout. I’d swear to go a month alcohol-free and I’d crack after two nights. I’d tell myself to not drink more than one bottle at home alone, then I’d stagger down to the corner store in my pyjamas to buy a second one.”

King shook his head.
So much fucking pain in her voice
.

“But the
one
thing I stuck to was my decision to not mess around with my organization. I promised myself that I’d never drink at work, never go to a business meeting drunk, never teach a workshop shit-faced. And even though I did all those things so hungover that I wanted to fucking
die
, I was never drunk. Not once.”

“Is that why you stopped drinking? Your organization?”

“Yes. I realized that it meant everything to me and my drinking was starting to make me screw it up. I’d be so hungover that I’d sleep through my alarm and miss an important meeting. I’d forget things, I’d lose things. I had no energy to cope properly when an artist went in to meltdown. I’d lost so much to alcohol already – my Mom and my childhood and my painting – and I just couldn’t stand to lose the organization and art program, too. The day I really
got
that was the day that I stopped.”