Defending Serenty (5 page)

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Authors: Elle Wylder

BOOK: Defending Serenty
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The light clicks off and he climbs into bed
next to me, rolling close and pulling me into his arms. I never
spend an entire night with a man. Maybe I’m emotionally
unavailable, too. I didn’t stay the night with Trace before either,
and am dismayed at how natural it feels. Usually after I screw a
guy, I want the bed and the house to myself. This time, I’m not in
a hurry to kick him out--and that can’t be good.

“This can’t happen again,” I say.

His arms tighten around me and his voice is
cold. “You’re saying this is a one time thing?”

“It has to be,” I say softly. “I like my job.
I want to keep it.” That’s not true but he doesn’t need to know
that.

He grunts. “I don’t care about your job or
your reputation. We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I sigh. That is impossible.

“We’ll work something out,” he whispers in my
ear.

God help me, I want to believe we can. I
drift off to sleep wondering why it feels so right to be with the
town bad boy, a man I was partly responsible for sending to prison
ten years ago and who it is obvious has very mixed feelings about
me. I don’t dare take too close a look at my own.

Chapter Three

Trace

 

I sleep a couple hours but it’s a lost cause
after six. Sleeping in is a skill I will apparently have to
relearn. I head back to Walker’s for coffee and food since Serenity
has neither. I’m not surprised to find the house quiet. In my room
I find a stack of clean clothes Walker left. I pull out jeans and a
shirt and head to the shower. Shave. Dress. The morning routine
never changes. I’m not sure if that’s good or if I need to shake
things up. Maybe I should add sex to it. I’ll do that tomorrow.

In the kitchen I figure out the coffee maker
and search the fridge, settle on eggs and sausage. Walker comes in
just in time to eat. He grabs a mug and coffee first, slugs down
two cups before he joins me at the table.

“What time do you open the garage?” I
ask.

“Ten most days. I usually go to the gym
first.”

Good. I want to talk to Hunter about Tim
Monroe. If anyone knows what that shithead is up to it’s the boss.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him away from Serenity. “I’ll go
with you.”

Ten minutes later we walk into the gym. I
notice the sign on the door says it’s open Monday to Friday from
noon to eight but there are obviously exceptions. Hunter and Ryder
are watching Lake spar with a guy I’ve never seen or don’t
remember. I join them and watch. The new guy is young and it shows.
If he’s training for one of the underground matches he’s gonna get
his ass kicked. He’s not fighting nearly dirty enough.

“What do you think?” Hunter asks me.

“I wouldn’t bet any money of him.”

“He’s training for a charity tournament.
Won’t be any betting on that.”

Not officially, but I know better. Hunter has
probably already opened the book on the tournament. I turn back to
the match.

“He’s fast and strong. And stubborn,” I add
when he climbs to his feet after the second time Lake dumps him on
his ass. Stubborn can get you pretty damned far. Hunter smiles at
me as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He probably does. I’ve
won a few fights against very long odds.

“I told you to take a couple days,” he
says.

I shrug. “I need to be doing something.”

“Understood,” he says. “Let’s go to my
office.”

Ryder follows us inside and shuts the door
behind him. Hunter sits behind his desk.

“Have you seen her?” he asks me. I don’t need
to ask who.

“Yeah,” I answer but I don’t elaborate. I can
tell by his expression he doesn’t approve. Then he sighs.

“Ten years in prison wasn’t a high enough
price to pay for that? No piece of ass is that good.”

I ball my fists and throttle down the urge to
attack. I don’t like hearing anyone talk about Serenity that way. I
take a deep breath and force my body to relax. I’m not the hot head
I was ten years ago.

“It’s my business,” I say. “And it won’t
interfere with yours.”

“She’s a cop, Trace.”

Yeah, I can’t argue with that one but Walker
told me over breakfast she’s considering quitting. I’ll ask her
when I see her tonight but if she’s talked to my brother about it,
she’s serious. It kind of pisses me off she didn’t tell me. Fuck
no. Instead she’d try to break this off whatever it is. I’ll deal
with her tonight.

“It won’t be a problem,” I tell Hunter.

I don’t know why this is so important to me.
That my boss, my friends, accept this damned strange situation I
find myself in. Sometime between last night and this morning I
decided I was keeping her around for awhile. If Walker is right and
she doesn’t want to be a cop anymore it might even work. Besides,
she doesn’t need to know about the illegal stuff. Hell, she’s a
smart woman. She knows about Hunter and his operation I’m sure.

“Fuck,” the boss mutters. “It’s your funeral.
I know you won’t take any of us down with you.”

“Fuck no.”

“You up for a fight? Two weeks from now in
Panama City.”

“New Year’s Eve?”

He nods.

“Hell yeah.”

Those fights are heavily attended. The money
will be big.

“Work with Lake. It’s been a long time so
expect a gruesome week.”

“Cool,” I say.

I don’t ask about the other action yet.
They’re gonna need time to get used to me being back. And then
there’s Serenity. She understandably makes them nervous. Which
reminds me of my other problem.

“What’s Tim Monroe up to?”

Hunter gives me a cold look I recognize. I’ve
pushed a button there. “Why do you ask?”

I shrug. “He’s sniffing around Serenity. I
don’t like it.”

He relaxes a little bit. What the hell is
going on? “Monroe stays out of my business and I stay out of
his.”

His tone says the conversation is over and I
don’t argue. I’ll ask Walker later if there’s bad blood I should
know about. First I go find Lake who’s done with the tournament guy
and pulls me into the ring with him. It’s a long grueling match
that reminds that while I’ve stayed in shape it’s been a long time
since I’ve fought. It takes awhile to get back into the rhythm but
I’m confident when we finish that I’ll be ready in a two weeks.

A couple hours later, showered and in clean
clothes, I go to the garage. Walker has a rock station on the
radio. I walk around. It’s a big space, the tools are newish and
well cared for, and three cars are waiting. I get to work and it’s
surreal. I slip back into the old routine like I was never gone.
I’m amazed when I finish with a timing belt to find it closing
time.

“So you’re gonna fight New Year’s?” Walker
asks as I wash my hands.

“Yeah. You?”

“On your big come back night? No way.”

I laugh but I don’t push him for the real
reason. “I asked Hunter about Monroe.”

Walker winces. “Don’t do that, man.”

“What’s the deal?”

“Honor Monroe. Tim’s her second cousin or
something.”

“And?”

“Good question,” Walker says sarcastically.
“You know Hunter. He’s not very open. All I know is he had an
argument with Tim
about
Honor. Mention either of them and he
gets a poker up his ass so spare us all please.”

Great. That isn’t much help. But it’s not my
only option. I’m sure I’ll be seeing other old friends and
acquaintances in the next few days. I’ll get information from
them.

 

Serenity

 

I’m late to lunch because my whole day has
been thrown off balance. First I overslept and woke up alone which
instead of being grateful for had just pissed me off. It was a bad
start. I got to the office to find the mayor, the chief, and half
the council waiting for me demanding to know what I was going to do
about Trace. For a minute there I’d thought I was busted but nope
they just want me to run him out of town. After I explained--over
and over again--that I can’t do that they gave me some peace but
not without a few dirty looks. I sense my days here are numbered.
That doesn’t really bother me. What to do next does.

I park the car in the lot of a popular River
City restaurant and enter the gate onto the patio. My friends
texted me to let me know where they were and I walk around the
corner and down the side of the building to join them. Honor
Monroe, who is actually my cousin, her mother and my mother were
sisters, stands up to hug me.

“Wow. You look like shit,” she says.

“Thanks,” I answer. I know she’s right. I had
a long night and left the house without even a lick of makeup. Faye
is next and she isn’t as blunt.

“Sit down, honey. Are we having a caffeine or
alcohol lunch?”

I laugh and take a seat. It’s Friday and the
three of us have a standing lunch date. Sometimes one of our other
friends join us. This is what I missed so much the years I’d lived
in Birmingham, one of the reasons I came home. The waitress shows
up with my sweetened iced tea. Yeah. They definitely know us
here.

“The usual?” she asks and I nod.

She flits off and Honor leans close. “So have
you seen him yet?”

Oh, yeah, I’ve seen him all right. I
blush.

“And that’s a big fat yes,” Faye says. “What
did you do, girl?”

I’m not sure if confessing will catch me hell
or if they just want the dirty details. I need Grace--Honor’s twin
sister--for this, but I won’t be able to call her until later and
right now I’m ready to burst.

“I saw him.”

“And?” Honor prods.

“I slept with him.” I just spit it out,
because really, how do I sugarcoat that? “And it was awesome.”

They both just stare at me for a minute and
then Faye asks the million dollar question. “Are you going to do it
again?”

“I shouldn’t,” I hedge.

Faye breaks into a grin. “But you want
to.”

I can’t deny it. “What the hell am I doing?
I’m a cop for crissakes.”

“He did his time,” Honor points out. “Paid
his debt to society and all that.”

I want to snort at that but don’t. That was a
debt he shouldn’t have had to pay, but I have no allusions about
Trace Graham. He was a criminal before he defended me that night
and it won’t take long before he is back to his old ways.

“Besides,” Honor continues. “You don’t want
to be a cop anymore, remember? Go ahead and quit.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“No, it’s not,” she agrees softly and I know
she’s thinking about Hunter Wallace. I don’t know what the story is
there and I don’t push for answers. She’s made it clear she doesn’t
want to talk about him.

“So what are you going to do?” Faye asks.

“I have no idea.”

I need to stay away from him and I know it.
But I don’t think I have the willpower. Maybe I should take a
short, spur of the moment vacation. Get my head back on
straight.

“Lynn,” she says, setting her hand over mine.
“You have to make a decision. If you’re going to be with a man like
him…”

She lets the sentence trail off but she
doesn’t need to finish it. I know. I can have my life as I know it
now or Trace. For as long as he wants me anyway. I can’t have both.
Put that way, it’s an easy decision.

“You’re right. This can’t happen. We needed
one night. Closure and all that crap. But that’s it.”

“Good.”

Faye squeezes my hand but Honor looks
unconvinced. I change the subject.

“How’s work?”

Honor is a personal assistant. She has two
part time clients that keep her hopping. We’re always on her to
slow down not that it does any good.

“It’s good. I won’t be here for Christmas but
Grace will.”

“They’re making you work the holiday out of
town?” Faye asks and I’m just as incredulous as she is.

Honor shrugs. “Mark needs me on this business
trip. It’s fine. It’s just one year.”

I know she makes great money and loves what
she does but I wish she’d be more assertive and learn to say no.
I’ll talk to Grace about it. Maybe she’ll have better luck. Faye, a
local DJ, entertains us the rest of lunch with outrageous stories
about her coworkers. All in all, it’s a good hour and I hate having
to go back to work. The afternoon drags on. I finish some paperwork
and write a couple speeding tickets before going home. Trace’s car
is parked out front when I pull in. Shit. Is he gonna cause a
scene? How did he get in?

I find him in the kitchen cooking dinner and
the sight of him, only wearing jeans and stirring something that
smells divine, strikes me dumb. This is bad. I’m supposed to be
saying no. I’m supposed to be extricating myself.

“What are you doing here?”

He looks back over his shoulder. “Feeding
you. Someone has to.”

I narrow my eyes at the implied insult. “I
can take care of myself just fine, thanks.”

“Indulge me then,” he says and I wonder who
this stranger is.

He’s much more relaxed than yesterday and
that can’t just be from sex. Even great sex. He starts opening
cabinets, searching for plates I guess and I drop my bag and move
to help. That’s when I get my first good look at his side and
chest. He has a nasty bruise stretching across the bottom of his
ribs and twisting down one side. I gasp and brush my fingers over
it.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

One day and he’s already in trouble? He
chuckles and I want to smack him upside the head. He takes my hands
away from the bruises.

“It’s nothing, baby. I was sparring with Lake
this morning.”

I feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. I
know what this means. I stare up at him and wish I still smoked.
The hell with it. I’m having one. And a stiff drink. I dig out a
bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, carry it and a glass to the
table, then get a small saucer and the last pack of cigarettes I
haven’t been able to make myself throw away. The lighter is right
there with it. I take a drink before I light up, doing my damnedest
to ignore Trace but he makes it impossible.

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