Personal Assets (Texas Nights) (23 page)

“No, they save that for me.” He grinned and finished off his doughnut in two quick bites.

Her shoulders descended from the vicinity of her earlobes, and she picked at a doughnut, breaking it into half a dozen pieces. “Tell me about your car.”

“Only if you tell me why you were yelling at yours.” He pointed to the plate. “Want the last one?”

She shook her head, and he reached for the third doughnut. “Really, it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s something if you destroyed a perfectly beautiful pair of Michael Kors.” Jamie licked the sugar coating from his fingertips, but nothing flared inside Allie.

Yes, he was attractive, but she had a feeling his brother was the only man who would rev her up from now on. Lord, her life was stickier than the puddle of glaze left on that plate. What would it hurt to tell him about her most immediate problem? “I can’t sell it.”

“I assume you’re not talking about that mutilated pile of dough.”

Darn, she hadn’t realized she was tearing the pieces into pieces. She dropped them back to the napkin and sugar flakes flew into her lap. “No, my car.”

“Well, I can see there wouldn’t be a huge market for Escalades around here, but you could make a deal with someone in the city.”

“No, I literally cannot sell it because I don’t own it.”

“Who does?”

“My scheming father, that’s who.”

“If you don’t like it, you could ask him to buy you the hybrid instead.”

“I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t take money from my father anymore.” Now she went for the silverware, unwrapping it and arranging it precisely to her right and left like some truck-stop Emily Post.

“Yeah, gas is a bear these days. Maybe if you biked around town—”

The sound she made was more scoff than laugh. “This isn’t about the darn thing guzzling gas. I need money, significant money.”

“That’s rough. Anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you have spare cash lying around to pay back my loan to Shelbyville Bank and Trust.” Panic sliced through her, and she grabbed his wrist. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? I don’t want my clients worried. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep Roxanne and me in business.”

“So you’re trying to sell a car that your father legally owns to repay his bank money you borrowed not only for Personal Assets, but a friend’s business, as well?”

“That about sums it up.”

“Kind of twisted.”

“Kind of stupid.” She slumped back in her seat, but an idea suddenly zinged through her brain as though someone had hung one of those cartoon exclamation signs over her head. She tapped her lips, and the fluorescent light above caught her ring and fractured into a green-tinged prism. “You’re hooked into the business world in Houston.”

“Primarily when companies have problems.”

“I’m obviously having a problem. And I’d bet a tankful of the Escalade’s gas that you’re a fixer.”

For the first time since she’d walked out of Rusty and Sons, she smiled. Darned if she was going to give up now, and Jamie might just know the kind of people who had extra cash tucked away. An angel investor. “Would you know of anyone who might be willing to invest in a couple of small businesses with the potential for double-digit growth over the next five years?”

“Are you sure you’d want to take money from the kind of investors interested in helping you peddle sex in a small town?”

“If they can deliver the goods—” her smile took on an edge, and Jamie pushed back from the table and studied her with caution in his eyes, “—I might be willing to get into the tank with sharks.”

* * *

“Know anybody around here who might be interested in poking under the hood of a ’58 Corvette?”

At the sound of his brother’s voice, Cameron’s head snapped up from the paperwork scattered over his desk. “Don’t come in here making promises you can’t keep.”

Jamie propped his shoulder against the office door and grinned like a kid who’d found ice cream money in the couch cushions. “Hey, if you’d rather stay behind your desk crunching numbers instead of sliding under a sexy lady, I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Cameron rubbed his eyes. Poring over supply catalogs and financial statements wasn’t nearly as fun as being under a car and a helluva a lot less sexy than being under Allie.

“You better not be messing with me,” Cameron warned him, but he slung an arm around his brother’s shoulders and pulled him toward the parking lot. His heart rate went from sluggish to NASCAR when he spotted the tarp-covered blob on the trailer. He pulled back the fabric to expose a taillight and part of the left fender. “Where did you get her?”

“A partner at the law firm had her stashed inside his garage for the past ten years. Told me he bought it off the original owner.”

Cameron grunted an acknowledgment, releasing the bungee cords to expose more of the car’s exterior. “How’d you talk him into selling?”

“I promised to take his daughter to the Houston Humane Society Gala.” Jamie laughed. “Then I offered him a shitload of money.”

Smoothing his hands over the car’s surface, Cameron asked, “You are leaving her here, right?”

“Nah. Thought I’d haul her all the way up from Houston just to yank your chain and then take her back to let someone else work on her.”

“I’ve got a GTO ahead of you that I need to get started on first.”

“I’m not in any hurry. Thought I might try to get up here once a month or so to help you work on her.”

“Well, let’s get her unloaded. There’s room in the last bay. She run at all?”

“Battery’s dead and tires are shot so we’ll have to push her off the trailer.” Jamie produced a set of keys from his front pocket. Cameron grabbed them and climbed in the truck. He swung out wide and fishtailed the trailer in line with the garage. He came around back, and Jamie climbed on the trailer and hollered, “You ready?”

“Yeah. Give her a push.” The tricky part would be to start it rolling and for Jamie to quickly switch positions and grab the bumper to help him control the descent.

Jamie shoved against the hood, rocking it back and forth to build momentum. Finally, the car rolled, and Cameron’s muscles bunched against the three thousand pounds of metal pressing back on him. Jamie jumped over the trailer’s side to get to the back end, and they eased his ’Vette down the ramp.

“Funny thing happened this morning,” Jamie said. “I ran into Allie Shelby and something weird is going on there. I stopped at the gas station and saw her kicking the holy hell out of her tires. I’m surprised she didn’t break a toe the way she was pounding on that thing.”

The car slipped under Cameron’s grip, and Jamie staggered under the weight. Cameron recovered and reestablished his hold on the car. “Yeah? That is a little strange, especially for her.”

The car was on the ground, and they switched to the front bumper to push it farther inside.

“She was so upset that I bought her coffee over at the truck stop.”

Cameron’s gut tightened, but he quickly busied himself with checking the ’Vette’s paint. “When did you get so friendly with her?”

“Since today. Sounds like her dad’s pulled a con on her. She was trying to find a buyer for her Escalade and found out her dad’s name is on the title too.”

“Well, shit.” Cameron picked up the abandoned tarp and wadded it into a ball. He stalked outside and flung it into the cab of the truck.

“That bastard Shelby giving you or mom problems?” Jamie strode toward him, shoulders back and fists balled. Damn, when had his little brother gotten so damned big?

“No. It’s nothing like that.” Cameron wiped the sweat from his face on his T-shirt sleeve. “In fact, he asked me to head up some economic development committee. I’m trying like hell to let all that bad water move on down the creek.” Yeah, except now he didn’t know how to keep the man from railroading his own daughter.

“Something got you riled up when I mentioned Allie’s name.” Jamie shifted back, his protective stance turning speculative. “Holy shit.”

Defensiveness crawled up Cameron’s back, rippling his muscles. “What?”

“Now there’s two people I never pictured you getting tangled up with.”

Tangled up was exactly right. “What makes you think I’m involved with her?”

“Because, big brother, you haven’t looked me straight in the face since I mentioned her name, and a man only does that when a woman has her hands down his pants and he doesn’t want to kiss and tell.”

One thing was for damn sure. Allie had her hands firmly wrapped around Cameron’s balls.

Chapter Nineteen

After leaving his ’Vette with Cameron, Jamie decided he had enough time for a quick fact-finding mission before heading back to Houston. He couldn’t fit the truck and trailer in a parking spot on the square so he left them near the park and strolled across Main. Before he could make it to Personal Assets, he spotted Red Light Lingerie’s sign.

Women talked to their girlfriends about everything, right? Maybe Allie’s friend and partner in crime could shed some light on her problems.

He walked inside the boutique and the scent of jasmine—Neroli, if he wasn’t mistaken—wrapped around him.

The whole place was a man’s fantasy playground. White lace, black silk, take-me-against-a-wall red satin. The closely spaced racks held shorty nightgowns, filmy PJ sets and, holy Mother of God, a leather corset with a riding crop.

“Welcome to Red Light. What can I help you find?”

He hadn’t noticed the long, lean redhead behind the counter when he entered. He passed a hand over his mouth to keep it closed. Because he immediately imagined this woman wearing the corset outfit.

She strode around the counter and, sure enough, she wore high-heeled boots with roach-killer toes.

He was in love. “Are you Roxanne?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but her smile didn’t. “Guilty.”

He squeezed between a mannequin dressed as a belly dancer and a display of—he did a double take—animal print condoms. “I’m Jamie Wright, Cameron’s brother.”

She checked him out, taking her time, from his hair to his untucked button-down shirt to his pressed jeans to his John Lobb loafers. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what our mother tells us.”

“I’m happy to help you select something for your girlfriend or...whoever.” A half dozen bracelets jangled on her wrist with her hand flip. Her hair spiked in a bird’s nest of dark red strands, and in those libido-pumping boots she stood only a couple inches shorter than his six-two. Dressed in body-molding skinny jeans and a silk wife-beater tank, Roxanne didn’t look like a serious business owner.

She looked like every man’s wet dream.

Jesus, he’d come in here for information about Allie, yet he was too busy eyeballing her friend’s assets to worry about Allie’s. Interesting that Allie would risk her own business for someone who seemed so unlike her. “Part of the money Allie borrowed from the bank is tied up in your store’s inventory, isn’t it?”

Roxanne’s friendly expression blanked. “If you want information about Allie’s business, you need to speak with her.”

Loyal. And more than a little fierce. His kind of woman.

The door behind him opened and Jamie stepped aside so Roxanne could greet her customer. Her eyes lit with satisfaction and something mildly wicked. “Hi, Emmalee, are you back to buy that bustier we talked about the other day?”

What the hell? Jamie spun around, and sure enough, his mom was fingering a blue scrap of fabric that wouldn’t cover her...ah...foot. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

She looked up from the lingerie and her cheeks went pink. Then she squared her shoulders and tucked the bustier under her arm. “I could ask you the same thing. I don’t suppose you were planning to let me know you were in town or stop by the house, were you?”

Oh, she was good.

He pointed at the lingerie she held. “Buying a gift?”

“Yes, for myself and...for myself.”

Herself? That was the kind of lingerie a woman bought for her lover.

Jesus jumping jacks, she was seeing someone? Cameron must’ve shit kittens when he found out. If she wasn’t sleeping with someone already, she was planning on it.

Well, good for her. It was about time she put herself first.

And since Roxanne wouldn’t give him the 411 on Allie, maybe his mom would. “Mom, if you have a minute, I want to talk with you about something. Outside.”

Roxanne folded her arms and shot him a suspicious look.

“Jameson Brody, if you think you’re going to keep me from buying this—” his mom waved the lacy bustier in his face, almost blinding him with one of the garter hooks, “—you’ve got another thing coming.”

He slid it from her grasp and shoved it and his credit card into Roxanne’s hands. “Just ring it up and I’ll sign.”

Now Roxanne’s smile wasn’t a pleasant waiting-on-a-customer curl of her lips. It was a full-out, face-transforming grin. “Some people like to tip the salesperson.”

He hustled his mom toward the door and said over his shoulder, “Add thirty percent to the total.”

They crossed Petty Street and found a bench in front of the courthouse.

“Has Cameron mentioned Allie Shelby to you?” he asked.

“Your brother and Allie have become...shall we say...involved.”

“Involved? Like business involved or like personal involved?”

“Personal, why?

“I had coffee with Allie earlier today, and when I mentioned her to Cameron, he acted weird, even more closemouthed than normal.” Jamie stretched his legs, straightened his pants crease. “What do you know about all that?”

“I know they’ve had some disagreements about my being a Personal Assets client.”

Shit kittens? Cameron probably passed a bobcat.

“Neither admits this relationship they’ve started is serious. But I’ve never seen Cameron like this. If he’s not in love with her yet, he’s fast on his way.”

And Cameron always took care of the people he loved, no matter how much it cost him, either financially or emotionally.

* * *

The minute he walked through the door to Personal Assets, Cameron felt like an interloper. The décor wasn’t fussy. No curtains with big showy roses, no little doilies on the back of the couch, no wreath on the door made from dead stuff. But Allie obviously wanted to make women comfortable in her office. The air smelled like vanilla and flowery tea, and the couch in the corner of the foyer looked too fancy for a guy to kick back on and watch a football game.