Madison's Quest (3 page)

Panting, she clawed at the seatbelt, blind to anything but
the need to get out. To escape, escape, escape.

Her own whimpers filled her ears.

A sob came when the belt unlatched.

She grabbed the door handle, flung her body forward,
hurtling out of the car and landing on her hands and knees.

Her breath heaved in and out. Tremors wracked her body as remembered
pain consumed her.

The memory-smell of gasoline and blood flooded her senses. Despair
and fear and helplessness accompanied the sound of Elijah’s moaning, crying, his
slow dying.

“Hey, you okay? Are. You. Okay?”

The voice came from a long way away, entwining with those of
the paramedics who’d told her she was going to be okay, to hang on, that she
was going to be okay, while all she could think was that she’d never be okay.
How could she be without Eli?

A hand on her arm demanded she focus on the now. It was like
a line pulling her from frozen depths.

She surfaced. Looked into the face of a mocha-skinned guy
crouched in front of her wearing dreads and a gray hoodie.

“You okay?” he asked.

“A little shaken.”

He helped her stand and she saw that he was the driver of
the silver car that’d been coming from the other direction.

“Police are on the way. You get a look at the asshole who
hit you?”

“No. It happened too fast. What about you?”

“All I saw was a turned-up collar and a ball cap. But I got
the first three digits on his plate. Can’t be sure, but I think it was an
Expedition.”

She heard a siren in the distance. Thought about Bulldog
waiting for her and called, telling him what happened.

“Get a lift back to the rental center but don’t get a
replacement car,” he said. “I’ll send someone to pick you up.”

Shane mucked his cards.

What a freaking waste of time. He’d joined the Texas Hold’em
game at Cole’s place, thinking it’d engage his brain and give him some relief.
He should have known better.

He’d already tried beer and whiskey, more than once.

He’d tried women. No strings. No promises. No expectations
by either party except for some fast, furious fucking.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made things more
complicated, because he liked doing it with women. Couldn’t imagine
not
doing it with women.

He’d be better off banging his head against the wall. That
had a greater chance of driving out thoughts of Tyler—if such a thing was even
possible—than anything he’d tried so far.

He picked up a chip, walked it through his fingers. Back and
forth. Back and forth. Down nearly five grand and what’d he have to show for
it? Nothing.

He’d lost a shitload of money because he couldn’t stop
thinking about Tyler and trying to figure what the fuck to do about it. He was
full out on tilt. At the table and away from it, he’d been playing recklessly since
getting back from Vegas and helping Cole on the case that led to big brother
hooking up with Renata.

Shane found a smile there. He’d cashed in on the betting
pool as to when Cole would bite the big one and admit there was no escaping
fate, and Renata was his.

That’d been a nice win at seven grand plus a little over a
hundred in small bills.

Cole hadn’t stood a chance, though he’d tried running, tried
avoiding and staying as far away from Renata as he could.

Didn’t do him any good. It was another example of where
resistance was futile, especially when it came to Grandma Maguire’s
sight
.

Wonder what she’d predict about me?

Months ago he’d have been more embarrassed than worried at
showing up in one of Grandma M’s visions, because who wanted their granny to
watch the porn they’d starred in?

Now he was worried she’d see a total fuck-up, starting with
that last trip to Vegas where a run of excellent cards chased by too much
alcohol had led to a hook-up with a guy—not the first, though he kept that part
of his life in Vegas or Reno or Atlantic City. Only this time he’d freaking
shot his load and said Tyler’s name, making it impossible to live happily in
denial.

I am so fucked. So so fucked.

He’d known it that night in Vegas. Then coming home, getting
sucked into Cole and Renata’s cold case, that’s when the real head-trip had
begun. Not that he regretted sitting at Brian Elliot’s bedside and wouldn’t
make the same choice again.

He hadn’t been able to stand the thought of a guy dying
alone in a hospice, shunned by his family because he was gay. But being with
Brian had only added to the churn in his gut over his own situation.

Was he willing to admit he swung both ways? Have that out in
the open even knowing his family wouldn’t cut him out of their lives because of
it?

He caught himself tugging on the nipple ring through his shirt,
sending little streaks of pleasure straight to his dick. Fuck, that’s all he
needed, a hard-on that’d cause him even more grief.

Worse would be developing a tell that would let everybody
know when his head wasn’t in the game. They’d pluck him clean every time, not
just this one.

He looked down at what remained of his buy-in. Pathetic. He
had two, maybe three rounds before he went bust.

To his left, Braden shook his head. “Bro, where’d your game
go?”

“Nowhere you want to hear about.”

Cash, sitting between Kieran and Cole, won the hand and
raked in the chips. “Probably involves some woman. Keep fighting the good
fight.”

Lyric laughed. “And that’s working for you?”

Cash shot Kieran a look.

Kieran held up his hands. “She asks if my partner has come
to his senses yet. I say no, his dick is still in a twist, and far as I can
tell banging badge bunnies isn’t providing a fix.”

Lyric grinned. “Maybe it’s time for an intervention.”

Shane’s gaze snapped to his cousin’s face. Yeah, maybe,
though not the intervention she was talking about.

She and Tyler were tight, though hell, they all were and had
been since they were kids. But Lyric could offer insight. Insight being, did
Tyler have any leanings in a bi direction?

He’d never seen it. Didn’t mean it wasn’t there. No one
sitting at the table would ever guess he went both ways.

Tyler wasn’t without female companionship when he wanted it,
either—not that he’d actually seen Tyler with a lot of women, not compared to
the Maguires. But the guy was a babe-magnet. Had been starting in high school with
that long blond hair and the whole soulful artist thing he had going on.

Shane’s gaze shifted from Lyric to Braden to Cole. He huffed
out a breath. No way was he ready for an intervention.

Ask Lyric for a read on Tyler and
he’d
be the subject
of a betting pool. Someone would be winning a nice little pot the way he’d done
when it came to Cole’s futile attempt to avoid falling hard for Renata.

Shane glanced down at his remaining chips. Fucking pathetic.
He was better than this. He was capable of calculating the odds, but tonight he
couldn’t figure the right move to make at the table
or
when it came to
Tyler. It was shades of high school—not that he’d actually had to struggle back
then when it came to sex.

Yeah, and if this was just about sex, I’d be good.

The two gray-faced dachshunds that’d been curled up next to Puff,
a twenty pounder of a rabbit belonging to Renata, suddenly got to their feet.

Cole stood, pushing away from the table and heading for the
front door.

It opened and Renata shouldered her way in, arms draped with
grocery sacks.

Big brother took some of the bags then slammed his mouth down
on Renata’s.

The sight of them together filled Shane with a longing he
couldn’t shake. And worse—didn’t want to shake.

Braden gathered the mucked cards and began shuffling. “And
there’s a guy who always said he liked his women fast, fuckable and
forgettable, in that order.”

“Change happens,” Lyric said.

Cash snorted. “More like shit happens.”

Shane’s cell rang with Bulldog’s tone.

He answered it.

His grandfather said, “I need you to go to the rental car
center at SFO. A client just came in. Her name is Madison York. Pick her up and
bring her to the office.”

Shane pocketed the phone, relieved at having an escape.

“I’m gone,” he said.

He left the chips. Cole would cash him out and hold the
funds.

His exit forced Cole and Renata to break the lip lock—not
that they wouldn’t be right back at it when the poker game ended and their company
was ejected.

Once the love shining in their eyes would have had him
shaking his head and saying
not for me
. Even thinking about being tied
down like that would have had him pulling an imaginary choke-chain off his neck
and landing the next gorgeous babe, doing her right there on the beach if he
was out surfing or, if not, doing her on some other surface.

But now…

Driving toward the rental center, he admitted to himself
that now he wanted what big brother had. Not in the same one-on-one way Cole
had it, but he wanted the connection that came with permanent.

The fun of nailing a conquest, or being someone else’s easy
lay, had turned into an empty kind of pleasure. It’d probably been creeping up
on him even before that night in Vegas.

He caught himself playing with the nipple ring and forced
his hand down, his thoughts forward. A new client was just the thing to keep
him occupied, and he’d rather work close to home than go back out on the road.

There wasn’t any point in speculating about the case.
Bulldog took whatever interested him, or whatever he thought would interest
them, though occasionally favors got called in or he lost a bet.

That’s how Cole and Renata had ended up working together,
though in that case, Grandma Maguire was the one who’d ended up winning a
little side bet at the poker table that included promises from Bulldog and
Renata’s employer, Orrin.

Lately there’d been a shitload of cases that had led to
hooking up and falling in love.

Lyric and Kieran. Cady and Kix. Cole and Renata.

Calista with Dante and Benito.

Erin with Dasan, though that one hadn’t finished playing out
yet. When it did, someone was going to win big money.

Grace with Cade and Mace—good thing for all of them that big
brother Michael was on the other side of the country when Grace’s first solo
case led to that hook-up.

Shane laughed, almost wishing Grandma M would turn her
sight
on Michael—and then his pulse skittered at catching sight of the blonde waiting
in a passenger pick-up zone. His heart tripped into a hard
I’ve got to have
you
beat.

If this was the client, he was royally fucked, because here
was one more example of someone it’d be better not to want.

He pulled over, rolled the window on her side down.

His mouth went dry. His freaking mouth went dry, like it
hadn’t done over someone of the opposite sex since maybe seventh grade.

Truth, probably sixth. The Maguire brothers had all stopped
thinking of girls as gross early on.

“Madison?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m—”

“Shane. I Googled and saw a picture of you with your
grandfather.”

She might as well have shoved her hand down his pants and
curled it around his dick. Heat and pleasure, that’s the effect her voice had
on him.

She’s a client.

His dick didn’t care.

His dick knew the big head was capable of rationalizing so
the little one could get what it wanted.

Except for Tyler.

Shane got out of the Jeep, helped her load the guitar, their
arms brushing, heating him up on the inside, her scent as seductive as the rest
of her.

First sight and she’d become the other half of his personal
coin toss. Heads, he wanted her. Tails, he wanted Tyler.

Scrub the earlier thought about not leaving town. He should
tell Bulldog he’d gotten a last-minute invite to a high-stakes game.

Only—didn’t that sound like a guy trying to outrun fate?

Shane’s heart did a freaky fluttering, as if Lyric and Braden
weren’t the only ones who had glimpses of
sight
. Maybe he should swing
by Grandma’s place, see if she wanted to lay a prophecy on him.

He dropped back into the driver’s seat. Grinned. Hell no, it’d
be more fun riding this out.

Heat blasted through Madison as she got in the Jeep, a sweet,
dark-mustard colored Wrangler Rubicon. She tried to keep her eyes off Shane and
totally failed.

That first picture of him had stirred her interest, but in
person… There was no denying that she was attracted.

Raw sexuality poured off him in waves, a bad-boy combination
of blond surfer and outlaw biker that made her think
I want
, when
getting involved, even in a fling, should be the last thing on her mind.

“Hope collecting me wasn’t too much trouble,” she said,
watching his mouth kick up at the corners, her heart doing a slow roll because
of it.

“No problem. Saved me from handing over the rest of my
chips.”

“You were playing poker?”

“Texas Hold’em. You play?”

His eyes met hers and she thought it’d be too easy to drown
in the pleasure those blue eyes promised. Too easy to end up heartbroken by wanting
to lay claim to him—not that she was in any danger there. She wasn’t looking
for love, wasn’t ready for a run at happy-ever-after, though she absolutely
believed in the possibility of it. Her parents had shown her that.

“I doubt I’m in your league.”

His smile was wicked temptation. “You could find out. Name
the stakes.”

His hand moved to his chest. Strong, tanned fingers played
with the nipple ring visible beneath the black T.

“Cheating already?” she asked, a husk in her voice, because
whether he meant to fill her mind with sexual thoughts or not, his toying with
the nipple ring made her want to see it, touch it, put her mouth on it.