Bad Girl Bill (Atlantic Divide) (4 page)

*

“She gives the impression she’s as hard as nails, with her swagger and her deep voice and bad language, but she’s not…” Michael murmured to Jack as he watched Bill with the kids. “She acts like a teenager. Like she hasn’t quite grown up. How old is she?”

Jack pinned him with a long, thoughtful look. “Twenty-four. And don’t let her fool you. She
is
as hard as nails. She’s my best deputy, and the first person I would want at my back when the shit hits the fan.”

Michael felt Jack’s contemplation and noticed his dark brown eyes narrow.

“If I needed her to shoot someone…” His voice hardened, “She would…without hesitation.”

Michael turned his face and he met Jack’s troubled gaze. He heard the warning, took it in, and filed it away. Interesting. That was two men in the room who had warned him away.

Smiling slightly, he let his attention wander back to Bill, who was showing the kids how to balance a spoon on their noses.

If Jack thought that little bit of information was going to deter him, he could think again. Inadvertently, he’d just made Bill ten times more attractive. There was nothing sexier than a woman in charge. A woman with a gun strapped low on her hip. Nothing there so far made him feel like running for the hills. Nope. He only hoped to God he never gave her a reason to shoot him.

He smiled to himself as he looked down at the food on his plate. She acted tough and in charge, and by all accounts she was. Ideal for a no-strings-attached fling.

Jack leaned back and studied Michael a moment longer, opened his mouth to speak, closed it again. Thought for a moment, made up his mind, nudged Michael to get his attention and opened his mouth again. “Bill means a lot to me.”

Michael nodded.

“I think you should steer clear of her.”

Michael’s eyebrow raised at his brother-in-law.

“I mean…if you’re looking for a little fun, there are plenty of girls around here to oblige.” He gave a furtive, sideways glance at his wife to make sure she hadn’t overheard the comment. She’d slay him with one of her deadly stares if she knew he was encouraging her brother to seek out female companionship. “But…” He nodded in Bill’s direction. “Leave Bill alone. She’s not what she seems. I wouldn’t want to see her get hurt.”

Michael settled back as he considered Jack’s words.

“So, Michael,” Mac drawled from his other side, and his sharp elbow dug him in the ribs to gain his attention. “I hear you’re around for some time, so what are you doing here? Apart from visiting your sisters.” Perhaps they thought it strange he planned on being there a while. It didn’t matter to him if they knew he had to work. After all, they would find out when he started to come and go.

“I’m on assignment,” Michael replied, his voice low.

“Oh, what do you do?”

His sisters both cast a quick glance at him. People didn’t usually discuss what he did. His normally quiet presence didn’t allow the opening for that discussion. Perhaps he’d drawn too much attention to himself. He gave an easy shrug.

“I work for the British government.”

“What exactly do you do for the British government, tiger?” Bill’s sly smile hit him from across the table as she slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Her slow, easy voice belied the fact she was paying close attention. Did she think he might claim to be some kind of spy? No chance of that.

“Paperwork.” That would kill the conversation.

Bill’s smile widened as her gaze flickered over his broad chest and muscular shoulders.

“That must be real heavy paper-pushing you do.”

Michael took a long, slow look at her until Mac jabbed him in the ribs again and leaned closer.

“So, Michael, tell me, how do you keep fit if you’re just a paper-pusher? Do you work out much?”

“Yeah, when I can.”

“How about we go down to Bill’s gym tomorrow and do some workouts with some of the boys?”

“Bill’s gym?” Michael inquired, casting her another look, his interest piqued.

“Yeah, when Bill moved to her own house a couple of years back, she had a gym installed in the basement. We all use it.”

Listening from across the table, Bill was silent, and her dark brown eyes were bland and disinterested. Jack tutted loudly and rolled his eyes as Michael realized there wasn’t much point in Jack warning him off when Mac had just given him an open invitation to visit her house. Any time.

“All of you use it?” Michael inquired.

“Yeah, me and Bill’s four other brothers.” Mac exchanged a pirate’s grin with Jack in a mental high five.

“Jesus.” Rolling his eyes, Michael picked up the gauntlet. It didn’t look like Mac considered his own warning enough, and he was throwing his other four brothers into the boxing ring to make damn sure Michael stayed away from his little sister. He hadn’t backed down from a challenge in his life. “That’d be good, if Bill doesn’t mind.”

“Sure.” She shrugged like a teenage kid, all shoulders and sullen expression. “I won’t be there. I’m on duty.” Raising her beer, she saluted him. “Knock yourself out, tiger.”

The Little League game was one of Bill’s regular duties, and since Rosie and Aaron were playing their kindergarten debut, it was going to be fun to watch.

She always sat toward the top of the bleachers for a good view, but it also lent itself to a quick escape. Since the age of eight, she had been able to haul herself over the side and work her way down the scaffolding, agile as a monkey, making her way outside of the gates when the game was over, too impatient to wait for the crowds to move. Old habits die hard, and she still used that escape if she felt the need.

She cast her gaze around the small stadium and leaned forward to get a better look at the kids scattered around, chirping like little birds, jumping up and down as their parents tried desperately to make sure they were ready to play.

She would never in a million years understand parents. They outfitted their kids in the very best gear, paid hundreds for a pair of designer sneakers the kid was going to grow out of in a month, and then stood on the sidelines shouting and yelling at the same poor kid to perform. The arrests she had made at these games because the parents had started a brawl…well, all in the name of sportsmanship.

She smiled as she sat in the sunshine and remembered her brothers when she’d first started to play. No designer crap for her. She’d stood in Ethan’s castoffs and batted like she’d been born to it. It hadn’t made any difference to her performance. All the parents had complained she was too rough for the girls’ team, so Mac had agreed with them she could play on the boys’ team. It had never changed. She’d grown older, but she was still “one of the boys.”

Difference was, she wore a uniform these days. The sun shone, and the crowds milled. She had her favorite seat and was prepared to cheer on her newfound family.

She scanned the field once and fixed on Michael’s blond hair as it gleamed in the sunlight, catching her attention as sure as a bar of gold. His head was angled so he could listen to Lydia, but his gaze was narrowed, perusing the seating area. When it settled on Bill, it stayed there while he nodded and agreed with whatever his sister said.

*

She wasn’t difficult to spot high up in the bleachers, wearing her ugly khaki deputy uniform, sporting a baseball cap and wearing shades. He knew she had seen him. Her body was angled toward him, and her utter stillness gave her away. Body language was his specialty, and he looked forward to learning the language of her body.

A vibrating warmth spread through him from his stomach downward, and he inclined his head briefly in acknowledgement in her direction. She abruptly sat up straight, her chin notching up a level, and then gave a brief, jerky nod in his direction, and he knew he had her.

If she moved, she was going to make it too obvious, and from the small amount he knew about Bill, she was too dogmatic to give him the pleasure of seeing her move on his behalf. The row she sat on was fairly full, but he was sure he could find himself a seat up there.

He took his time collecting two hot dogs from the stand, picked up two sodas, and then he made his way through the crowds of parents, up the bleachers to the row Bill was sitting in. People stood to let him through, smiling politely, their eyes on the game about to start, their attention on their own kids.

“Hey.”

She glanced up as he sat next to her, wriggled his backside into the small space, tight up against her. His broad shoulders pushed her firmly into the corner as he invaded her personal space, and his leg pressed hard against hers from their hips, down through their thighs, touching at the knee.

He handed over a hot dog and a can of soda.

“That’s for letting me use your gym this week. It’s been great.” Only seven days and he was already starting to muscle up. It didn’t take long for his body to remember how to exercise.

She grunted, and he thought it might be her way of saying thanks.

He watched with fascination as she devoured her hot dog, attention on the crowd all the time as she chewed and swallowed.

“First day, all your brothers were there.”

“Hmmm…they said.”

“It made it a little crowded.”

“Yeah, it would.” She smiled, and he knew she was perfectly aware her gym was only suitable for a maximum of four.

“Since then, there’s only been two of them at a time.”

“Really? Good job my cousins didn’t turn up too.” She didn’t sound very attentive as her eyes scanned her surroundings.

He thought it was interesting the way her brothers scheduled themselves so he was accompanied at all times. He’d thought at first they’d been going to intimidate him with their muscle power, overwhelm him with their numbers, but he’d been surprised at how friendly these guys really were. They just made sure he was never alone in her house, and by all accounts, she had no idea what they were doing. Interesting that she wasn’t party to that.

Licking her fingers neatly, she turned to eye the rest of his half-eaten hot dog. He broke it in half and handed it to her He watched her push it into her mouth in one go and gulp as she tilted her head and slugged back most of the soda. Her throat worked quickly as she downed the cold drink, and then she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth when she was finished.

Michael never took his eyes off her for a minute. He had never seen any woman enjoy herself so unselfconsciously in all his life. She fascinated him. He wondered if she enjoyed sex as much, if she went about it with the same enthusiasm and gusto. If she did, she might just kill him. Well, what a way to go.

With the thought perhaps he had made a mistake sitting so close, the heat of her thigh burning through his, Michael tried to edge away, but the woman next to him had her tote, with every item a mother could think of and more, on the bleachers next to him. He contemplated moving, but the place had filled up, and he was going to have to disturb everyone along the line.

Bill turned, grinned at him, and slapped her hand hard on the top of his thigh like he was her best teenage pal.

“Thanks, I haven’t eaten since last night. Left my money in my other uniform. I was in a bit of a hurry to get out this morning.” He wondered if it was because she had wanted to avoid seeing him when he turned up with her brothers

“I thought I was doing a five-mile run, but it was so fine this morning it ended up nearer ten. Made me late.”

“I didn’t know you ran.” He’d seen no evidence of her using her own gym either.

“Sure I do. Most days, depending on my shift.”

“Perhaps I could join you. I like to run. Ten miles is good.”

“Sure. Any time.”

“Hmmm.” If he ever got the chance to get her alone that long.

She settled forward to watch the game, elbows on knees, ball cap pulled low over her brow, shades in place.

He leaned back, turned his face up to catch the rays of sun. It was cooler today, the wind blew gently under, round, and over the bleachers giving a more comfortable heat to sit in. His head was already hot, and he thought he probably should have brought his own baseball cap and glasses.

He watched as his niece and nephew came up to bat, clapped when he needed to, smiled at Rosie’s cute little yellow shorts and T-shirt with their girlie appliqued butterflies flouncing all over them, and laughed as Aaron pulled his ball cap around so the brim was at the back and stood like a pro as he took his swing.

Through the entire game though, his attention could not be drawn from the long-legged, brown-eyed woman beside him.

She moved, stood up, wiggled her backside, sat down, and wriggled in her seat. She shouted, hooted, whooped, catcalled, threw her fists in the air, and laughed. And all the time he sat motionless, absorbing her vitality, enjoying her, feeling her next to him, never still, never quiet. She touched him constantly: her hand slapped his knee, her shoulder knocked against him, her thigh rubbed against his, and when she whipped off her ball cap her head leaned in close, her hair smelled of untouched mountains and hidden streams. By the time the game ended, his riotous senses were overloaded with Bill.

He sat stock-still and waited while everyone else in the seating stood up and pushed toward the exit with that inexplicable human desire to be first out. He breathed deep and even, controlling his heart rate, and then turned to look at her.

Her head turned slowly, her gaze met his, and the world stopped midrevolution. Her face was close, eyes partially obscured by her shades. His breathing was slow and controlled as he deliberately peered straight past the tinted lenses into her eyes. He saw the panic as she blinked rapidly and lost the connection.

“It was great, wasn’t it?” Louder than she needed to be, she dipped her head in a dead giveaway of her self-consciousness.

“I enjoyed it.” His voice was low and suggestive, and he watched the confusion flick across her face.

She made a move to get up, and he stopped her with a hand on her knee, slowly peeled the cap off her head, the shades off her face, watching her closely all the time. Perhaps she’d agree to let him come to her house without her brothers.