The woman was wild, certifiable, and funny as hell.
He’d missed that.
The thought made Billy pause as he pulled the rental up in front of The Ruckus. There had always been that sizzling sexual tension between them whenever he’d come back, but this time he was seeing flashes of the old Roxie—the girl who’d made him pull out his hair one moment and laugh until he couldn’t breathe the next.
“Think Lexie and Maxie made it into the clear?” she asked. The broken heel twisted in her hands as she held it in her lap.
That was the Roxie way. Act first, think later.
“They were ahead of us. I’m sure they made it home safely.”
She grimaced. “I’m a bad influence on those two.”
“They don’t have to follow you.”
But he always had. The reward had always been worth the risk.
Until the end.
The keys bit into his palm as he turned off the engine. Hopping out of the truck, he walked around the front. She’d already jumped down from the passenger seat, but was balancing on one foot like a high-wire acrobat.
“How the hell do you walk in those things?” he asked, looking at her boots. They’d be dangerous even without the broken heel.
“I’m fine when they’re even.” She closed the passenger door, but tilted when she lost her balance. She managed to stay upright by catching the side of the pickup.
Muttering under his breath, Billy looped one arm around her shoulders and bent to catch her behind the knees. She let out a huff when he swept her up into his arms. “You’re high maintenance,” he told her, his nose inches from hers. “You know that, right?”
“They’re cute boots.”
“Get out your key,” he grumbled as he carried her to the bar.
She was still whip lean. Her weight felt warm in his arms. Right. A curl of her long hair brushed against his neck, and the soft caress made him take a deep breath. Even through the thickness of their jackets, he could feel her curves pushing back against him.
She dealt with the lock and the door swung open, gliding silently on well-worn hinges. Turning so he wouldn’t hit her head, he carried her inside. The dim lighting inside the bar made it momentarily difficult to see, but the memory that struck him then was as brilliant as a lightning strike.
The last time he’d carried her over the threshold, they’d just gotten married by a justice of the peace at the Cobalt City Courthouse.
His gut tightened a notch. She’d worn a pretty white dress with hot pink flowers in her hair. Hell, he’d even worn a tie.
The bar slowly came into view, but what he saw instead was the tiny apartment they’d furnished with pieces from the Goodwill. It had been their first place. Their first attempt at normalcy.
His arms tightened around her, and her warm breath hit his ear.
He quickly set her down. She wasn’t ready for it, and she wobbled on her one tall heel. He caught her by the waist, but she’d already propped herself up against the wall.
Billy couldn’t help himself. He stepped in.
Her eyes were big as she looked up at him. Her pupils were adjusting to the lighting, too, but something told him he wasn’t the only one focused on the old memory. They’d both been nervous and excited that day, like two fugitives running for the border. Marrying him had been her escape from the system, and he’d been willing to do just about anything to keep her with him.
That wayward curl still clung to the zipper of his jacket. Swirling his finger around it, he freed it.
“I like how you are with your sisters,” he said softly.
“The bad seed?”
“Happy.” It had been a long time since he’d seen her light up the way she did around them. She’d gotten so prickly and guarded.
Her gaze slid away. “I don’t always think when I’m with them. I sometimes wonder if I should be more careful… before they decide I’m too wild…”
He caught her by the chin when he heard her voice catch. “Those two aren’t going to ditch you, Roxie.”
“How can you know that?”
It was a fair question. They’d both been left behind, overlooked, and passed along their entire childhood. “Because they need you. Those two need you like an engine needs gasoline—just like you need them.”
She swallowed hard. “But today… I might have gone a bit too far.”
He chuckled. “Ya think?”
“The prude deserved it,” she said with a pout.
He shook his head. “Baby, if you want to flash your boobs at someone, I’m right here.”
The words weren’t even out before they turned husky. Sexual. Memories of their wedding day quickly turned to visions from last night.
Hot, steamy visions.
They hadn’t really dealt with what had happened. They hadn’t been alone since she’d sneaked out of bed. Her sisters were gone now, but Billy wasn’t really in the mood to talk. His gaze dropped helplessly to her breasts. Her chest was rising and falling in a rhythm too fast for normal respiration.
He braced his hand against the wall alongside her head.
“You were gone when I woke up this morning.”
“I had to meet my sisters.”
His cock hadn’t cared.
He settled his other hand at her waist, and his thumb brushed back and forth. Last night had been wild and crazy, too. Had she been thinking then?
They did so much better together when they didn’t think.
Leaning in, he finally did what he’d wanted to do since he’d walked into the bar hours earlier.
He kissed her.
Slowly, sexily, he melded his mouth with hers.
A shudder went through her and then a groan. The broken heel of her boot bounced off the toe of his as her hands came up to clench at his jacket.
She gave a tug, and he settled his weight against hers, trapping her against the wall.
Damn, she felt good. Her curves cushioned all his hard places. Her breasts were soft against his chest, and her thigh rubbed against the outside of his leg.
His grip tightened on her waist, and he deepened the kiss. She tasted sweet, like the chocolate donut she’d had for breakfast. Sweet and…
He sucked in a hard breath when she nipped at his bottom lip.
Sassy.
He couldn’t have stopped his hips from swinging forward if he’d tried. Her softness cradled the erection growing behind the zipper of his jeans as the kiss became hotter and hungrier.
Damn, he wanted her. Last night hadn’t been near enough.
“Roxie,” he rasped against her lips.
God, why had they broken up?
His thoughts became disjointed as her tongue slid against his.
Oh yeah. That’s right, because he’d been reckless.
He’d been street racing, drinking, and then there’d been that pregnancy scare. They’d simply been too young with personalities that were too big. Passion that was too intense.
Together, they’d imploded.
She let out a whimper, and he fisted his fingers in her hair. The softness nearly sent him to his knees.
The repercussions still hurt, but he couldn’t stay away. He kept coming back for this, for her. She knew him. She got him. He couldn’t stay away, even knowing he’d get hurt in the end.
She was like his drug.
The thought jolted him out of the erotically charged moment.
His drug.
Oh, holy Jesus.
He pulled back as if he’d just put jumper cables on backwards. He stared at her, his mouth going dry even as her kiss was wet on his lips.
Her hands stilled on him, hesitant. “Billy?”
He’d joked about it before, but all that talk earlier about his mother was suddenly reverberating in his ears. She was an addict, too, one he hadn’t forgiven for her weakness. Was he the same? Had the apple not fallen far from the tree? Was he hooked on the highs that only Roxie could make him feel?
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
When he didn’t—couldn’t—respond, the haziness of arousal left her face. Her soft brown eyes turned hard. She jerked away and her shoulders slammed against the wall.
He took another step back and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Was it true? Was that the reason he kept coming back and putting himself through the wringer? He’d dated other women, but none of them had made his heart pound and his gut knot in need. None of them had let him feel the ecstasy of the highs and the crushing darkness of the lows.
Every time he came here, he left worse for the wear. There was something about the two of them together; they just weren’t good for each other. He knew it in his head, yet that had never been enough to keep him away.
He jonesed for her too badly.
He pushed out a breath of air.
Shit.
She watched him warily, her hands bracing against the wall behind her.
Billy turned away. His gaze landed on two things, his bag and her computer. Everything inside him told him to grab his stuff and go, yet he’d promised to help her with her search for her parents.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, her voice flat as asphalt pavement. “As always?”
“I said I’d help you.” And that meant staying.
Being around her. Smelling that entrancing lavender scent she always wore. Watching her hips sway as she strutted around in those ridiculously sexy boots.
Heaven help him.
He faced her again, every muscle in his body tight. The look she gave him so jagged, he couldn’t meet it. He knew he was giving off mixed signals, but he was having a hard time wrapping his brain around the truth that had just slammed into him.
He was addicted to her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said in a low tone. “You’re the one who jumped me last night. I’m just stopping it before it goes too far.”
She muttered something unintelligible under her breath.
He stepped back, disengaging further. “I need to get out of here.”
Her jaw hardened, but there was disappointment in her eyes. A sadness she didn’t want him to see. He grabbed his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder. “We’ll start the search tomorrow.”
Swearing softly, Billy headed for the door, not looking back. Hitting the road was probably the sanest thing he could do… put some distance between them. But that was what he always did, wasn’t it? Look how well that always turned out.
He raked a hand through his hair as the door to The Ruckus slammed behind him. They weren’t even fighting this time, but things were getting weird. Emotional… uncomfortable… And his craving for her was getting stronger than ever.
Damn, he was a head case.
A brisk breeze hit him, and he hunched deeper into his jacket. He needed to find an engine to work on, something old and greasy and rusted. Because, God knew, he needed to fix some things.
* * * * *
Roxie was cranky. Cranky in the sense of being grumpy, tired, and sexually frustrated.
She still wasn’t sure what had gone down with Billy earlier today. He’d nearly melted her kneecaps before things had come to an abrupt halt, and she wasn’t one who dealt with teasing well—especially after she’d climbed upstairs to her apartment, in stocking feet mind you, and had found evidence of him there, too. The bed had still been rumpled, and the sheets had smelled like his cologne. He’d made her ache, damn him, and then he’d screwed with her head.
If there was one surefire way to piss her off, that was it.
Problem was, right now she had to be pleasant.
“I’m sorry about the noise out there,” she said as affably as she could muster through clenched teeth. The bar was busy and she wanted to keep it that way, so she led her visitors into her office. They weren’t unexpected, but they certainly weren’t making her day any better.
She placed herself behind her desk in a conscious power move. “Now, what is all this about a complaint?”
She stared calmly at the two men standing across from her. Both wore all black, with shiny metal badges. One wore his clipped onto his belt, while the younger one pinned his proudly onto his chest. She could wind the newbie around her pinkie. It was the older one, the one built like a tank with a crisp crew cut that concerned her.
“Some kind of disturbance?” she said sweetly.
She didn’t really need to ask. The prudish librarian had called in to complain.
Probably because her boobs weren’t as nice as Roxie’s.
Roxie stood a little straighter, arching her back. The bar area was so warm, she’d stripped down to her black tank top. Hey, if you got ’em, flaunt ’em.
She saw the way the younger cop’s eyes widened and then flashed determinedly back to his notepad.
“We had a report of a woman matching your description disrupting traffic on I-67,” he said, reading his notes. “This woman had climbed the billboard your establishment has posted near the bridge.”
A woman. Singular. Well, that was the first thing that had gone right today.
“Oh, that?” She gave her best innocent look. “It was just a little publicity stunt. We had our grand reopening yesterday.”
She smiled and gestured back towards the bar as the beat from the jukebox thumped through the walls. As she’d predicted, the place was packed tonight.
So packed, it was giving even her a headache.
But wait, it had been Billy who’d caused that. The fink. The sexy, bad boy, so-gorgeous-he-made-her-sigh fink.
A growl bubbled up in her throat, but she quickly caught herself.
“You can’t go around climbing billboards, Ms. Cannon,” Officer Crew Cut said firmly. “You could have caused an accident by distracting all those motorists.”
Like drivers hadn’t been distracted by that billboard for months. Tilting her head, Roxie let her hair fall forward. “Could you tell me what exactly the caller said I did?” she asked, winding a curl around her finger.
The young officer’s cheeks flared red. “She claimed you…” He coughed. “Exposed your… ahem… breasts in public.”
Roxie let her eyes widen just enough. “Oh, no. That didn’t happen.”
Technically, her curves had been covered by her bra. Her good hot pink one, in fact. She was wearing it even as they spoke.
Acting embarrassed, she folded her arms over her chest, but discretely plumped her curves even higher. “The caller must have been talking about the billboard itself. You see, my… breasts are rather exposed in that big, detailed, laser-printed image.”
She let her eyelids go heavy. “Have you seen it?”
Oh yeah, they’d seen it. The young cop blushed red, but the older one’s eyes narrowed. Roxie’s antenna went on the alert, worried that she’d pushed the act too far, before she saw the hint of a smile on his hard face.
She decided to take a chance she probably shouldn’t. “In fact, my sisters have been begging me to have the sign company cover me up better.”
She waved a hand in front of her face. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“No, no. Don’t be,” the earnest young cop said quickly. He hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from her chest ever since she’d crossed her arms.
“Sisters?” the older cop asked.
Just as she’d hoped he would.
She turned around a picture on her desk to face him. Smiling at the officers now were three happy brunettes with brown eyes, slender figures, and matching pearly whites.
Crew Cut frowned.
“Wow, you all look so much alike,” the newbie said, his brow furrowing.
Roxie stroked her fingers over the top of the photo’s frame. “That’s because we’re identical triplets.”
The grizzled cop let out a grunt. In some galaxy, it might even have been considered a laugh.
“Identical…” The younger man was not following.
Roxie met the older cop’s gaze. He really was sexy in that tough, don’t mess with me, sort of way. Humor definitely lit his eyes. He knew what was what, but he also knew his time would be better served investigating some of the scroungier drinkers out in the main bar area. “We can’t prove it was her,” he explained to the younger man.
“But… it was probably one of them…”
The sunny expression slipped from Roxie’s face, and she planted her hands on her hips. “It was me.”
“We’re going to let you go with a warning,” the veteran said right over her.
Roxie was tired of flirting and acting as if she wasn’t in the mood to rip out a wolverine’s throat. There was no way she was going to drag her sisters into this mess. Cam would have a freaking fit, and Zac would put up with ribbing for months.
“But…” The young pup was dying to up his arrest record. The intent was clear on his face.
She’d judged the two poorly. She never would have made that mistake if her head was on right.
“Stay away from the billboard, Ms. Cannon,” Crew Cut said. Shaking his head, he took the notebook out of the trainee’s hand and stuffed it back into the kid’s chest pocket.
“But…”
“Yes, sir.” Roxie knew when to take a cue. She smiled her most beatific smile, the one she saved strictly for cops who let her off. “I appreciate that, Officer.”
She rounded her desk and opened the door before he could change his mind. Crew Cut was ready to go, and she wasn’t going to stop him. “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced the two of you, having to drive out here.”
She was already ushering the pair through the kitchen and back into the bar. The smell of bar food and beer permeated the air. The beat of the music got louder and the bass notes were joined by a hard-driving melody when they stepped through the swinging doors.
Crew Cut looked around the bar. “No worries. We’ll probably be back later.”
Roxie sent out warning messages with her glare as she cut through the crowd with her police escort. No doubt about that. The feel of the place was energized, but it wasn’t the celebratory mood of the night before. The bar was cruising for a bruising tonight, she could feel it, but she wanted any altercations to happen off the premises.
Turning, she smiled at Cobalt City’s best. “Please come back sometime during your off hours. I’d be happy to—”
The words cut off when she spotted someone glowering at her, someone who took her day from bad to craptastic. The blond GQ model wannabe took a step towards her with fire in his eyes, but she stopped him with an abrupt “zip it” gesture.
“Buy you a drink,” she finished, plastering that smile back on her face. She looked quickly at their badges. “Officers Kern and Russell. On the house. Skeeter?”
The bouncer was at her side in an instant. Nobody in a biker bar liked cops. They made people itchy. The bouncer escorted the policemen to the door and Roxie turned, bracing herself with her feet spread wide. The fact that her toes hurt in an old pair of boots didn’t help her attitude.
“Where are they going?” Landers Underhill said, pouncing on her like a barracuda that smelled blood. “They should be taking you in.”
“Shush it, daddy’s boy,” Roxie hissed, making a slashing movement with her hand, “unless you want to drag Lexie into this.”
The last thing she needed was for Lexie’s brother to stick his nose into the mess.
“Me drag Lexie into it?” he snarled, although his volume did turn down a notch. “You’re the one who’s dragging her down in the gutter every time I turn around. Did you see the news? There’s a reporter and video crew out there right now. You’re making that damn billboard their lead story again.”
“So?” Roxie growled, cocking her head. “That’s my business.”
“You know it’s not. With that face, every time you get into trouble, you drag Lexie and the Underhills right along with you. It happened with that newspaper story, and it’s happening again.”
“Is it?” Roxie said, hair swinging as she took a step forward. Her entire body vibrated with anger. “To my memory, that newspaper story didn’t affect Underhill Associates one bit. You just took it out on Lexie.”
“Our stock price took a hit. We sell educational children’s toys. We can’t be associated with that filthy billboard.”
Filthy? Roxie’s jaw tightened a notch. “Your company lost value because it lost its Marketing VP.”
She narrowed her eyes when a thought occurred to her. “Or is that what this is really all about? You losing Lexie as your Girl Friday?”
A swath of perfectly cut blond hair swung forward onto the pretty boy’s forehead. “She’s my sister more than she is yours. Ever since you showed up, you’ve been nothing but trouble for her.”
“Really? Have you run that theory past Lexie? Because last I heard, she was doing pretty well with her new company and her new home.”
Temper bubbled inside Roxie’s veins like a poison potion. She’d been spoiling for a fight, and she’d just walked into one. She’d never liked the Underhills, save for Blaire. She and Landers had gone round once before, and although she’d walked away the winner, she’d left feeling like her guts had been put through a grinder.
Her fingers dug into her hips. Lexie may have been adopted growing up, but Roxie didn’t envy her.
“Do you have any idea what that did to my parents? Her leaving like that?” Landers hissed. “They’re crushed.”
“Crushed?” Roxie coughed. “There’s an easy way to keep her around. Show her some support. Show her you care about her.”
“You’re one to talk.” He jabbed his finger towards the door where the cops had just left. “If you cared about how your actions affected her, you’d stop acting like such a skank.”
Whoa.
“Skank?” Roxie’s eyes narrowed to razor-thin slits. He wanted to play that game again?
At the slur, conversation around them halted and the noisy bar went from a din to a soft roar. A nasty sultriness went through Roxie, and she deliberately reached out to stroke the guy’s chest. Her fingertips moved over gym-hardened pecs across his somewhat impressive abs down towards his—
His eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. It was that split second later that he jerked out of her reach.
Or rather, he was jerked out of her reach.
Billy had the angry prepster by the back of the collar. The fancy blazer Landers wore was hitched up towards his ears and looking wrinkled.
“You sick bitch,” Landers spat.
“You might want to be more careful who you call names,” Billy said threateningly into the younger man’s ear.
Billy. How he’d gotten into the bar and within five feet of her without warning bells flaring was beyond Roxie. Yet there he was, in all his glory.
Big, tough, and so incensed, his leather jacket looked ready to burst off his shoulders.
Her lips pursed into a tight knot. Billy, looking rough and sexy, firing up her nerve endings, was the last thing she wanted right now.
“Hey,” she called. “I can fight my own battles.”
Billy’s fierce gaze flashed down to meet her own, and they collided like lasers. Sparking and heating. Roxie nearly took a step back, not in fear but surprise. She’d seen easygoing Billy angry before.
This was something else.
He hitched Landers’ jacket higher, making the guy go up on the tiptoes of his expensive loafers. When the East Sider tried to swing an elbow backwards, Billy pulled his arm into a chicken wing.
“Apologize to the pretty lady.”
Roxie rolled her eyes even as she shook with temper. Everyone was staring. The place was wall-to-wall people, many of whom she’d never seen before. This was not the ambience she wanted to establish for her place—especially not on the first night she was in charge.
She pointed towards the door. “Out, both of you.”
Landers’ feet shuffled against the wooden floor as Billy started dragging him away. “Wait until I tell Lexie what you’ve done.”
“Yeah? Well, you’ll have to get through Cam first to speak with her,” Roxie tossed back.
Say what she would about the Hatchet Man, Cam would make sure Landers was civil when he spoke with his sister.
Although Lexie hadn’t wanted to go up on that billboard in the first place…
Roxie’s stomach twisted.
Turning away from the scene, she marched across the bar back towards the kitchen. The last thing she saw out of the corner of her eye was Skeeter opening the door to let the two fighting men out.
Dragging her hands through her hair, she let out a frustrated scream.
Men. You couldn’t live with them, but a vibrator didn’t feel nearly as good.
Whitey stepped into her path when she neared the kitchen. “You okay there, Rox?”
“I’m fine.” She let out another puff of air and patted the regular on the shoulder. “Thanks.”
Using both hands, she shoved the swinging doors to the kitchen open. Steam and the aroma of hamburgers hit her full in the face, turning her stomach. Behind her, she heard the volume of conversation crank back up. She’d certainly given her customers something to talk about, and, Lord knew, bikers were as bad as a knitting club when it came to gossip.
She stomped towards her office, becoming even unhappier when the clunk of her heels against the floor didn’t sound quite right. Damn old boots. Her toes felt pinched, just like her eyes.
Tears were threatening.
She was just so angry… and frustrated… and tired… and scared…
That billboard had caused Lexie a lot of heartache with her adoptive family. She’d never meant to bring all that up again. Lexie was just starting to establish a new type of relationship with the Underhills, and Roxie didn’t want to jeopardize that. More importantly, she didn’t want her sister to be upset with her.
But Lexie hadn’t exactly been happy when she’d driven off today with the police hot on her heels.
Bracing her hands against the desk, Roxie bent at the waist and tried to find her breath. Landers Underhill couldn’t break the bond she shared with her triplet. She trusted Lexie. They were solid, she thought, but she’d never had sisters before. She was afraid to test things, especially when Landers had known Lexie longer and also thought of her as his sibling.
Roxie rubbed her throbbing temple. She loved that billboard, but she didn’t want it to tear them apart. Any of them. What should she do? Should she call Lexie right now? Or was she making too much of things?
The noise from the bar wouldn’t leave her alone. The bump of the bass penetrated the walls and even the kitchen sounded noisy. She heard the heavy thud of footsteps coming towards the door.
Muttering a curse, she straightened and swung her hair over her shoulder. She braced herself for Skeeter to barge in to make sure she was okay. First the cops, then the scuffle, and… Oh, God. Underhill had said something about a television crew. Had they caught all that?
The knock on the door was more like a boom, but the door swung open before she could respond.
“Skee—”
It wasn’t Skeeter.
Roxie stiffened when she saw Billy fired up, breathing hard, and overwhelmingly male.
Oh yeah, add horny to the list of things she was feeling.
Her chin came up as he closed the door behind him.
Their gazes locked. The air in the tiny room pulsed with hot anger.
The honeymoon period between them was over.