Nothing But Trouble (28 page)

"That's okay," Rebecca replied automatically.
She drove to the end of her street and made a left. "Can I ask you
a really huge favor?"

"Sure," Lacy said slowly.

"You attend a playgroup with one of Patrick
Gross's daughters, right?"

"Yeah. Hey, wait a minute. I got this weird
letter in the mail―"

"I know, but I can't get into it right now.
I'll explain the whole thing later." Rebecca rushed on as she
turned onto Main Street. Let's see R.J. avoid her when she showed
up and demanded he face her. "Can you find out from his daughter
where Dr. Gross and his wife went?"

Lacy wouldn't understand, and Rebecca felt
terrible for putting her friend in an awkward position. But she
didn't know where else to turn.

"Um… all right," she conceded. "Can I ask
why?"

Rebecca sighed and came to a stop at a red
light. She knew she wasn't supposed to talk to Dr. Gross. Agent
Reinhold had already made that clear. But she needed to know what
happened to him. "Can you just see what you can find out?"

One of Lacy's kids screamed in the
background. "I'll ask Stephanie next time I see her."

The light turned green and Rebecca pressed
forward. "Thanks." She disconnected the call and tossed her phone
into the cup holder. There was nothing more she could do about the
matter, so she tried desperately to shove the issue out of her
head. The only problem was that made room for thoughts about
R.J.

Then again, no matter how full her head was,
thoughts of R.J. always haunted her. Seems as though these days it
was more of a plague. They'd become a way of life. And she wasn't
used to R.J. not speaking to her. Smart-assed comments she could
handle; scorching looks were the norm. But the silent
treatment?

That wasn't R.J. at all, and Rebecca wasn't
sure what to think. The last time he'd done this was when he'd
taken her virginity. Of course, they'd eventually fallen back into
their old routine, which was the way she preferred it. Sort of.

They were grown adults for Heaven's sake!
They couldn't very well go around avoiding each other like a couple
of teenagers.

Given their long history, Rebecca felt like
she deserved an explanation. She was better than a bang-and-run. It
was way past time the two of them were honest with each other.

In fact, the more she stewed over being
ignored the more it had her blood boiling. Was that all she'd been
to him? Just some woman he could roll around in the sack with?

She wasn't about to let him stroll away from
her this time.

She rounded a turn and his shop appeared. It
was well past hours of operation, thank goodness, because she
really didn't want to have a confrontation in front of
employees.

The place was dark, with only the bay lights
shining through the small windows. The street lights hadn't kicked
on yet, but twilight was well underway.

The parking lot was empty, and Rebecca
maneuvered her car into the first slot. She tossed the gearshift
into park and exited the car. With her keys tucked away in her
shorts pocket, she yanked open the office door and allowed it to
slam behind her. No sense in being quiet, and she wasn't in the
mood for pleasantries anyway. With each step she took, her
agitation grew. She was stressed out, exhausted, and R.J. was about
to get a piece of her mind.

She stomped into the shop area, fully
intending to launch into a tirade of why R.J. was like every other
shallow guy, when she stopped short at the sight of him.

Some old piece of shit with gray primer and
no wheels had the hood popped, so that the inner guts of the car
were exposed. Rebecca hardly spared the thing a glance because the
man standing in front of it commanded all her attention.

Every word she had prepared for him, to put
him in his place, dissipated in the amount of time it took to give
him a good once over.

And once was all it took to have her heart
ratcheting up to super speeds.

Feet braced wide apart, long legs encased in
a pair of camo pants and a strong, tightly-muscled,
naked
backside…

Ah, shit.

One quick glance and suddenly she couldn't
make heads or tails of a single thought. She'd successfully
compartmentalized each and every one, and now they were a jumbled
mess. Infuriating man!

She'd come to give him a piece of her mind
and all she could do was stare at the beads of sweat decorating the
bronzed skin of his lower back.

But why should she let him do this to her? It
was the same trap she always fell into, and for once she needed to
get a grip. Just take a deep breath and remember why she was
here.

Scrumptious man or not.

With sure steps, she made her way across the
concrete floor, her determination growing as she got closer to
him.

Finally she reached his side and eyed the
greasy towel covering one bulky shoulder.

"Why are you ignoring me?" she demanded.

His hands, those big, dirty, blunt-fingered
hands dug around the innards of the engine. "I've been busy," he
bit out in a gruff voice. His tone said, "Stay the hell away if you
know what's good for you."

Well, she had no intention of doing that.
"That's not good enough," she shot back.

Apparently he didn't care, because he kept
his focus on the car and not on her, which had her fuming even
more. She was standing right in front of him, and he was still
ignoring her.

"I've sent you text messages, called you…"
She let the statement hang in the thick air between them. Nothing.
Nothing but the clanking of metal and his heavy breathing.

"Dammit, R.J., you can't keep doing this to
me. You can't sleep with me and pretend like I don't exist."

A muscle in his stubble-covered jaw
clenched.

"And you can't go on pretending like what's
between us doesn't exist either."

He whipped the towel off his shoulder and
tossed it on the engine. "You think that's what I'm doing?"

"What the hell else am I supposed to think?"
she asked with the last shred of composure she had. Damn him for
dragging this side out of her.

"It's for your own good, Rebecca," he bit out
through clenched teeth. "If you're smart, you'll get the hell out
of here. Go find yourself a man who can give you what you
want."

She took a step closer to him. "And you're
not that man?"

"No."

"How do you know? You've never given it a
chance." The accusation didn't go over well if the look he pinned
her with was anything to go by.

His usually playful green eyes were stormy
and anything but friendly. Rebecca wasn't used to seeing them like
that. The inauspicious look in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw
caused a frisson of unease to wash over her.

He lowered his face to hers so their mouths
were a breath apart. For a brief second, Rebecca prepared herself
for his kiss. It would be hard and furious, just like the man she
couldn't bring herself to stay away from.

But there was no kiss. No passionate touch or
words of love.

"Leave," he said just above a whisper.

He wanted her scared. Wanted her to think he
was a big insensitive asshole who had nothing to offer her. But he
was forgetting. She'd seen him vulnerable. She'd seen him grieve
over the loss of his brother and felt firsthand just how tender his
touch could be.

"No," she pushed back.

He gripped her shoulders and hauled her up on
her toes. His fingers were rough on her arm, the bite of them
borderline painful.

"You're asking for it," he warned.

"Finally something you notice," she said,
which was probably taking her own life in her hands.

"Are kidding me?" He gave her a gentle shake.
"I've spent the last fifteen years trying
not
to notice
you."

His green eyes burned with passion he no
doubt had been trying so hard to keep hidden. They bore down into
her, seeing into her soul where all her darkest secrets lived.
Where her love for him lived.

"Stop trying so hard," she pleaded.

One minute they were staring each other down,
as though sending out silent dares to make the first move. The next
R.J. was crushing his mouth over hers, immediately sweeping his
tongue inside and taking her breath away.

Rebecca didn't protest, nor did she waste any
time. They both had wasted too much time dancing around the
tangible attraction for each other. Her arms went around his thick
shoulders, savoring the feel of all that hardness, all that male
splendor pressed against her much smaller, more feminine frame.

No one made her more aware of how very female
she was than R.J. Every ridge, every sinew of muscle was a direct
contrast to the curves and softness of her own body. That feeling
alone was as much of a turn on than anything he could do with his
hands.

Well, almost.

Actually, it wasn't even close.

Rebecca became aware of the fact when R.J.
brought his hands around to her back and squeezed her rear. The
action brought her even closer to him, where she was able to feel
the rigid bulge beneath his jeans.

There was nothing else but this. No work
scandal. No ex-lover trying to send Rebecca to jail. No uncertain
future. There was only R.J. and the feel of him and the musky scent
that wrapped her in a cocoon of masculinity she always associated
with the man. His hands were everywhere, all over her body, under
her shirt, in her hair.

His kisses were rough, borderline bruising
her lips but not painful. They exhibited how much he wanted her,
how much he'd been holding himself back and was finally unleashing
that inner sexual beast.

The fact that she could get him to come this
unglued had her smiling against his lips.

"What're you grinning at?" he asked as he
whipped her shirt over her head and tossed it aside.

"Nothing," she replied with a sly grin. "I
just like seeing you all unhinged."

"You think this is unhinged." He reached up
with his right hand and slammed the hood of the car shut. The sound
was loud and echoed off the concrete walls, which mirrored the
pounding of her heart inside her chest.

In one swift move, he had her off her feet
and settled on the edge of the hood. The position allowed him to
step in between her spread legs.

His eyes darkened when he gazed at her. It
was a look of passion that made her feel like the only woman in the
world, the only woman he had eyes for and the only woman he
wanted.

Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Right
now is all that matters.

"Do you know what you're getting yourself
into?" He growled into her ear.

"Oh, yes," she answered on a breathy
sigh.

The passion R.J. showed her on the hood of
the car was soul-shattering and deep, and Rebecca knew she'd never
be the same after this; knew she'd never look at this man the same
again.

When their breathing slowed and the room
stopped spinning, she returned her legs to the floor.

R.J. shot her a lopsided grin, one that had
the ground shifting beneath her. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

She jabbed a finger at him as she slid off
the car and reached for her pants. "Don't you dare start
apologizing for that."

He stepped into his pants and pulled them
over his hips. "I was just saying sorry for not being gentler.
Don't women want finesse and shit?"

"I didn't want gentle." He handed over her
shirt, which she accepted. "Finesse and shit?" she asked.

One corner of his mouth kicked up. "You know
what I mean."

He stepped closer to her and framed her face
with his hands. They were rough and warm, like the man who thought
he wasn't good enough for her.

"Thank you," he whispered against her
mouth.

"For what?"

The kiss he pressed against her lips was soft
and tender, not at all like the down and dirty lovemaking they'd
just shared.

"For just being you."

****

The deep male grunts coming from the shop
assaulted Danielle's ears and made her skin crawl. The sound was
one she was all too familiar with and remembered with stunning
clarity. Unfortunately for her, she was used to them being used
with her and not some other bimbo R.J. would no doubt tire of in
record time. Hearing the unmistakable sounds coming from the shop
wasn't a shock to her either. R.J. often played where he worked,
because the man had no scruples when it came to sex.

At one time, she loved that side of him. Now
it just made her sick to her stomach, and she'd wished she'd chosen
any other night to come snooping in the office.

She tuned the sounds of sex out and rifled
through the drawers in the dark. Fumbling around in the pitch dark
hadn't been part of her plan, but she certainly didn't want to
alert R.J. and his flavor of the week to her presence. All she
needed to do was gather evidence that she hadn't screwed up those
orders. There had to be something here somewhere exonerating her of
wrong doing.

But after pulling open the first drawer,
Danielle knew her task would be harder than she thought. Someone
had ruined her perfectly organized files. Nothing was in the right
place, and some of them weren't even in the right drawer. Panic
flooded her already anxiety-ridden body. With trembling fingers,
she opened the second drawer, just as her gaze lit on a pile of
invoices and work-orders on the desk.

A female cry followed by R.J.'s deep groan
came from the shop. Danielle forced herself not to look out the
office window as she picked up the top invoice and glanced the
thing over. It was dated for a month ago and labeled "not paid."
She'd collected the bill for this, hadn't she? The only way to find
out for sure was to look up the record in the computer. But she
didn't want the light from the screen to alert the two people in
the next room, so she set that one aside.