Touch Slowly (Red Light: Silver Girls series) (7 page)

Nova lifted her gaze. What was Tawny doing?

Tiff wanted them to stick to the story that she ran the upstairs of the Sterling Building as a safe home for women seeking to gain their independence, but the biker was a part of Jeremy's club. He could see through her lies and tell Tiff that Tawny was trying to flirt with him.

She walked faster, distancing herself from the lies. Everywhere she turned, she had another story ready. Nick, Shayla, the bikers, and even Emmett. They all knew a different lie.

"Let's cross the street, ladies." The biker stepped off the sidewalk and stopped in the road, guarding them against traffic that hadn't arrived yet. Nova grinned at Tawny. Chivalry wasn't dead. The big guy was cute trying to protect them in the case of a freak drive-by in a town without a stop sign.

Nova jumped up on the opposite sidewalk and headed down the alley without waiting for Tawny. It was best to keep her distance if her co-worker ended up getting a reprimand on her records for having a big mouth.

At the back door, she waited for the others.

A car squealed around the corner and headed up the backstreet. Nova gasped recognizing the gray primer-colored muscle car at the same time the biker and Tawny reached her side. Unable to look away, she shaded her eyes and strained to see through the front windshield.

Her escort stepped beside her to unlock the door. She shifted, and caught sight of Emmett staring at her through the window from behind the steering wheel. Heaviness landed at the base of her neck, and she lifted her hand to her chest, hoping he wouldn't recognize her in the daylight.

His gaze narrowed and looked away from her, but it was too late. She'd recognized the truth slapping him upside the head. But what truth?

Had he heard through the grapevine what happens upstairs at Red Light? There were a lot of prominent men who lived in Federal who visited the prostitutes. Her customers weren't all tourists. A quarter of them were miners.

Every visitor to Red Light followed rules, kept secrets, and remained discreet because they knew what was in jeopardy if others found out what kind of business was open right under their noses.

She walked inside the building afraid Emmett knew more than she thought. If he knew what she was doing in Federal, it was only a matter of time until all hell would break loose.

T
he dogs on the other side of the trailer park barked. John West, three trailers down from Emmett, yelled at his wife about not having dinner on the table by eight o'clock. Emmett shut the hood of his car and looked up at the sky. Another sprinkle of rain hit his face.

Nick walked out of his house and over to Emmett. "Did you get your car fixed?"

"Yeah." Emmett grabbed his flannel shirt off the seat of his car. "It should be good to go until the next part calls it quits. It's turned into a money pit."

"Worth the cash, man. You don't see ones like this in such good shape anymore." Nick pulled up the collar of his coat. "Looks like it's going to storm."

Rain would cancel the nightly gathering on his lot. Emmett rolled down the sleeves of his shirt. Glad for the break and time away from the others, he'd had a rough time sleeping the last two days and customer orders still hadn't arrived at the store. He had no reason for the bad mood, only knew he was better off if everyone stayed away from him. Maybe he'd finally get some sleep.

The rain picked up. He walked toward his trailer.

"Hey. Have you had dinner yet?" Nick hitched his thumb toward his place. "Shayla's got tacos going and I bought a six pack."

"Yeah, I could eat." Emmett hated cooking, and he'd planned on throwing a can of chili in the microwave and calling it good. "Payday?"

"Hell, yeah." Nick lifted his chin and motioned toward the single-wide. "Shayla will be back any moment. She went to pick up Nova."

He followed Nick into the trailer. Suddenly, his night looked better.

Nick grabbed two cans of Rainier out of the fridge. Emmett sat on the couch, took the offered drink, and popped the tab with his hand.

He wiped his chin. "Damn. That's nice and cold."

"Right out of a mountain stream called Frigidaire." Nick held his can up and grinned.

After he had finished his drink, a car pulled up outside. Emmett set his can on the coffee table and looked at Nick. Once Shayla and Nova entered the house, he wouldn't have a chance to ask Nick privately about Nova going into the Sterling Building in town or why it bothered him to find her hanging around with a Moroad Motorcycle Club member.

"What was it your cousin did for a living?" he asked.

Nick stretched out in the chair. "Works for some art place. Once she moved out from living with us, she started moving all over the damn place. Shayla loved Nova's phone calls and hearing about the different states she stayed in. I never thought she'd come to Federal, though."

"Why do you say that?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. She's got money now and could go anyplace she wanted on vacation. Growing up, she always wanted to move away, buy a fancy house, and be on her own."

"Didn't she say she was working in her room at the inn?"

"Yeah, I think she did say that." Nick laughed. "I'm not sure Federal Inn has enough money to buy her art pieces."

The door opened. Shayla hurried to the stove and the raw meat sitting in the pan. Nova walked inside smiling, caught sight of Emmett, and halted.

He lifted his hand. "Hey."

She glanced at Nick before returning her gaze to him. "Hi."

The pan on the stove sizzled, and Shayla said, "Can someone grate the cheese?"

"I'll do it." Nova set her purse on the floor by the door.

Nick turned on the television, found a baseball game, and took off his boots. Emmett eyed the empty beer can and wondered if Nova drank. A few drinks and he could find out why she was at the Sterling Building. She had the body of a stripper.

Full breasts, flat stomach, and long, sexy legs. She moved with grace around the small kitchen, swaying with the movement of running the cheese over the grater.

Maybe she wanted to keep the fact that she was a Silver Girls dancer from her cousins. He'd gone once to watch the show when a couple of guys from the park took him out for his birthday last year. It was the only titty bar within fifty miles.

His chest tightened. If he were Nick, he wouldn't want her hanging out with a Moroad Motorcycle Club member. Bad news all around and if Nova were mixed up with the lot, he'd need to say something to Nick.

The trailer park needed no trouble from the bikers. It was hard enough to keep the park halfway clean and sober.

"I hope you picked up olives." said Nova.

Shayla pointed to the cabinet beside the sink. "There's a can in the sack of groceries. Lettuce and sour cream are in the fridge. The meat will be done in five minutes."

"Perfect." Nova moved to get the contents for the tacos.

Shayla looked into the living room. "Boys, wash up. Dinner is almost ready."

Emmett waited until Nick was done in the bathroom and followed the routine. He'd often come over and eat dinner with Shayla and Nick and looked forward to sharing a home-cooked meal.

He walked out of the bathroom and almost collided with Nova. Grabbing her upper arms, he kept her from falling into the paneled wall. "Sorry. I didn't see you."

"It's okay." Nova held up her hand. "I was just going to Shayla's room."

He glanced down at the one-hundred-dollar bill grasped in her bright, red fingernailed grip. "What you do is none of my business, but if you're bringing biker business into the park, I'll stop you."

"Uh, biker what?"

"The money. Drugs. Your people."

She shook her head. "I'm not following."

"People around here do a lot of things to make extra money. It's a fact of life." The palms of his hands warmed, and he loosened his hold on her without letting her go. "Shayla and Nick are good people. Don't bring trouble to their house by getting them involved in selling drugs for the people you hang around."

She stared up at him, transfixed until her eyes changed from hazel to narrowed dark moons with only her pupils showing and shoved him away. His back hit the wall, rocking the trailer.

"God, you are such a dick," she muttered.

Nova walked into Shayla's room, put the money on her dresser, and returned to the hallway. Ignoring him, she swept past him and returned to the main part of the house.

He blew out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Her misplaced temper with him only made her look guilty. While with her cousins, she played off as being here for a good time. He had a feeling no one in the house knew what Nova was doing in town and by the time they figured it out, it'd be too late.

He wouldn't let one woman ruin a family he'd grown close to and considered friends.

After washing up, he sat down at the table—comfortable enough for two people, awkward for four. Crammed between Nova, who scooted her chair an inch away from him, and Shayla, he took a paper plate from the middle of the table and loaded his plate as the toppings for the tacos were passed left to right.

"We haven’t had tacos since we moved here." Nick reached for the sour cream. "Usually, it's sloppy Joes on a Friday."

"Please." Nova leaned forward. "Tell me Shayla still uses that filler extender Aunt Jennie always put in the meat."

"Of course." Shayla held her taco up and tilted her head. "Even though there's usually only me and Nick here, we can make the meal stretch two, sometimes three nights."

"God, that was my favorite dinner." Nova took a bite, set the taco down, and wiped her mouth. "Promise you'll make them next Friday."

"Will you still be here?" asked Emmett.

Nova slowly turned in his direction. After a healthy pause, she said, "Yes."

"Your boss must be one hell of a guy letting you have all this time off." Emmett picked an olive off his taco, popped it in his mouth, and pressed the matter of what she did for a living. "Doesn't he expect you to be painting or drawing?"

"I work for an art gallery setting up consultations and selling art." Nova squeezed her taco with both hands and brought it to her mouth.

Her smooth, canned answer frustrated him. He knew otherwise what she was doing in Federal.

He laughed, irritating her more. "Since when has Moroad Motorcycle Club become interested in art? Unless you're pushing illegal paintings. I don't think I've ever heard of them doing anything legit."

Shayla cleared her throat. "Does anyone want a glass of milk? Water?"

"No, thanks." Emmett never glanced away from the woman he was determined to get answers from. "Tell me, Nova. What kind of art does a member of a biker gang like?"

"Do you know Nova is an artist, too? She doesn't only sell paintings; she's known for her street art." Shayla slapped Nick's arm. "Tell Emmett how popular Nova was back home in Long Beach. Everyone knew who she was by the pictures she painted around town."

"Yeah, she made a name for herself with the cops who were always trying to catch her," said Nick, winking at Nova. "They never caught her, though."

"Street art? Is that graffiti?" Emmett brushed his hands off on the thighs of his jeans and leaned back in his chair. "Is that why you were going inside the Sterling Building?"

Nick raised his head. "What were you doing in there, Nova?"

Finally.

Fuck.

He thought he'd have to spell out Nova's lies for his friend to understand that his cousin was up to no good.

Nova lifted the last bite of her taco and tossed it in her mouth, stood from the table, and stepped into the kitchen. "Not that it's any of your business, but the owner of the Sterling Building asked me to stop in to consult with her about new ways to decorate for Silver Girls. The biker that Emmett is talking about met me at the back door to unlock the building during non-business hours, so I could take some pictures with my phone and send them to my boss."

She turned around and faced Emmett. He studied her and a sinking feeling he'd fucked up had him dipping his chin in acknowledgment. She was telling the truth.

He inhaled swiftly, wanting to clear the air. "That's good to hear."

"Is it?" Nova stepped back to the table.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?" She crossed her arms. "I don't understand why my business is any of your concern or why you decided to be a dick during dinner."

"Uh oh," mumbled Shayla on a sigh.

Nick leaned back and forgot about the food.

The tap, tap, tap of someone's foot hitting the floor filled the silence. Emmett had no need to look under the table to learn who was making the noise. Nova's breasts tremored with the movement and hypnotized him until Shayla elbowed him in the arm and snapped him out of losing track of what they were talking about.

He cleared his throat. "You're wrong about me."

Shayla whispered, "Dude, wrong thing to say to her."

He ignored the advice and spoke to Nova. "What do you think I'm supposed to think. You refuse to let me take you back to the inn the first time I met you. The second time, I do take you to the inn, it's five o'clock in the morning. Too early for me to go straight to work, so I stopped at a restaurant to have breakfast and a couple of cups of coffee before I had to open the store and then I found you lurking behind the Sterling Building with another woman and a Moroad member. I thought that was strange, considering you were up all night hanging with Shayla."

"So," snapped Nova.

Emmett picked up his paper plate and walked over to the garbage. "I guess seeing you put a hundred bucks in Shayla's room tonight sealed the deal in my head that you were bringing Moroad business here."

"Whoa, hang on." Nick pushed his chair away from the table. "What money?"

"Unbelievable." Nova raised her hands and huffed at Emmett. "You had to go there."

Emmett moved over in front of Nova. "What are you—?"

"Stop." She put her hand in front of his face. "You've done enough. Just stop talking before you make a bigger fool of yourself."

Throwing him a look of disgust, she walked over to Nick, kissed his cheek, and whispered in his ear. Then she hugged Shayla, and Emmett caught her saying goodbye.