Hard as You Can (31 page)

“I’m bringing it back, baby,” Marz said, flicking Beckett the middle finger over his shoulder.

Jeremy entered just as Marz reached the door. “All set,” Jer said, as he and Marz joined the group at the island. “We’ve got three brand-new beds ready to use upstairs.” Jeremy headed to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” Nick said. “Marz said Ike helped you.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, nodding. “Wanted to know if I was starting a harem. I just told him I wanted to rent the apartment furnished when it was done. He was cool.”

“Okay,” Becca said, tugging at the hem of Jer’s shirt. “What’s this one say?”
I put the long in schlong.
“Omigod, Jeremy.” Everyone chuckled as Becca’s face pinked.

Nick put his arm around her. “It’s not his fault. My parents dropped him on his head when he was a baby.”

Jeremy took a long pull from his mug. “Becca, you know you’re way too sweet to be with my asshole brother, right?”

She shook her head. “Don’t put me in the middle, you two.” She grinned at Jer. “I have enough batter for a few more pancakes if you want some.”

“Nah, I ate cereal earlier. Gotta watch my girlish figure.”

Marz braced his hands on the counter. “Hey, Jer, I’ve been meaning to ask. What can you tell me about Ike and his motorcycle club?” Shane had been wondering this since that first day he’d admired Ike’s bike.

“Why?” Jeremy asked.

“Can I be straight with you?” Marz asked.

“Of course,” Jeremy said, frowning. “What’s up?”

“There are social clubs and outlaw clubs, right?” Marz said. “Most of the OMCs started in the sixties, real anti-establishment types. Most of them provide their members a livelihood via some criminal activity—drugs, guns, prostitution, gambling, you name it.” Shane’s gut sank at the description. Man, the last thing they needed was a fight on another front.

Jeremy nodded, his expression darkening, like he knew where Marz was going with this.

“The Raven Riders are in the Maryland gang report Becca’s friend gave us last week, Jer. They’re outlaws. So I need to know if he represents a liability or a threat in our own house, so to speak. Hell, for all we know, the Riders could be in bed with Church.” Marz looked from Jeremy to Nick and back again.

Damn, wouldn’t that be a gagglefuck?

Jeremy crossed his arms. “Ike’s as good as they come. I’ve known him for seven years. Never brings any trouble to Hard Ink. And I’ve met some of his friends from the club, too. Seem like good guys.”

Nick nodded. “I agree.”

Marz shifted feet, like maybe his leg was bothering him. The guy was so competent on his prosthesis that you could almost forget he wore it. As Marz grimaced and shifted again, it occurred to Shane that maybe all wasn’t as copasetic in Marz’s world as it seemed. The thought sank through his gut. “They may be, Jer. I’m not questioning that. Just saying we have to be hyperaware of who knows about us.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “That’s fair.”

“In fact, let’s take a look-see right now,” Marz said, pulling his iPhone from his pocket. After a minute, he said, “Looks like the Raven Riders are associated with the Green Valley Speedway west of the city?”

Jeremy peered down at the screen. “Yeah. The main club’s out there. I’ve been to a few stock car races. They also have drag racing and motocross.”

“The Raven Riders own a speedway?” Shane asked. That was big business. Question was, what were the activities that had landed them in that gang report?

“It’s cool,” Jeremy said, nodding.

“So, if the club’s twenty miles from here, what does Ike do in the city?” Marz asked, still scrolling through the page on his phone.

Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know, man. He works for me. Told you, his club business doesn’t interfere here. But, I get it, look into them more if you like, just keep it discreet for Ike’s sake.”

“Can do,” Marz said, nodding. Shane was glad Jeremy and Nick had no reservations about the guy, but he couldn’t help agreeing with Marz that, right now, they couldn’t be cautious enough.

For the next thirty minutes, they hashed out what they did and didn’t know. And damn if that list wasn’t lopsided as hell—and not in their favor. One thing they did know was that there was going to be another delivery tomorrow night. So once again they were in need of the when and where, which put Marz back on surveillance duty for the next twelve to twenty-four.

“Maybe Crystal could be useful with the details again?” Marz suggested, looking at Shane.

Aw, hell.
How was he going to learn what she might know when the last time he saw her, she’d run away from him? But he owed his teammates—the ones standing around him and the ones cold in the ground—his best effort. “I’d be willing to ask what she’s heard.”

“Good. Because shy of that—”

The muffled ring of a cell phone sounded out.

“That’s me,” Shane said, fishing the cell from his pocket. Relief and excitement shot through him, at once easing the tension in his shoulders and spiking his heart rate. “Speaking of . . . it’s Crystal.” Three minutes and a short, awkward conversation later, Shane had the answer to his question. “I’m meeting her in thirty,” he said.

Shane couldn’t help but pin a lot of hope on this meeting. Hope that he could ensure her safety by convincing her to stay with him at Hard Ink. Hope that he could assist their mission by learning about the second delivery. Hope that that delivery would provide more answers to help them right the wrongs they’d all suffered.

And, goddamnit all, they were overdue for a little sunshine and good luck.

C
rystal stood outside the coffee shop tucked into the corner of the strip mall and hugged herself. Despite never coming all the way down to the blue-collar burbs of Brooklyn Park and standing halfway behind a cement column supporting the overhanging awning, she felt exposed and vulnerable. But that was probably just because she was taking charge of her life—for once—and doing something way outside her comfort zone.

Asking for help. From Shane McCallan.

Looking up at the cloudy morning sky, Crystal forced herself to take a deep breath and calm down.

She was okay. Jenna was okay. Everything was okay.

Crystal pulled the phone Shane gave her from her purse to check the time. She’d never carried it on her before, but since they were meeting, she wanted him to be able to reach her if something came up or he was running late, which he wasn’t. Yet. She sighed and dropped it back into her bag for the third time in as many minutes.

A big black pickup pulled into the parking lot and made its way to the back corner. Shane. Relief and excitement flooded through Crystal as she stepped out of the shadows and watched the truck park in the second row. Through the windshield, she saw Shane smile and wave.

She couldn’t help but return the gestures. Smoothing her hands over the floral top she’d worn, another of her own creations, she felt feminine and even a little pretty. It had taken her four changes to figure out what to wear to see him. Stupid that she’d put so much thought into it. It wasn’t like this was a date or anything.

As Shane threaded between the cars and crossed the lot, all Crystal could do was stare. At the determination in his sexy, powerful stride. At the way those jeans hung on his lean hips and came down around a pair of loosely tied brown boots. At the way the breadth of his shoulders pulled the slate blue button-down tight across his chest. Hands in his pockets, he gave her a crooked smile that made her belly flutter and her cheeks heat.

“Hey, darlin’,” he said as he stepped up onto the sidewalk.

“Hi,” she said.

The word was barely out of her mouth when Shane’s arms came around her back and he pulled her in tight. Without thinking about it, her arms went around him, too. He felt warm and strong and reassuring.

“I missed you,” he said.

She couldn’t remember anyone other than Jenna ever telling her that before. A sense of fullness expanded inside her chest. “You did?” she asked, breathing in the masculine spice of his skin.

Shane pulled back enough to make eye contact. “Yeah. I did.” Cupping her cheek in his big hand, he leaned down slowly, bright gray eyes looking into hers, and kissed her once, twice, three times. Small, warm presses of his lips to hers that left her breathless and yearning for more. Would he kiss her like this if he’d been disgusted by her back? He stepped away, pulling her from the thought, and took her hand in his. “You have time for a cup of coffee?”

She smiled, absolutely adoring how sweet and considerate he was.
That’s not why you’re here, Crystal. For the tenth time, this
isn’t
a date
. Right. “Yeah. Just enough,” she said.

“Come on, then.” Holding her hand, he guided her to the door, which he held open for her. Then, with his hand on the small of her back, they stepped toward the counter and got in line behind a man ordering a tray of drinks to go.

“What would you like?” Shane asked.

“Coffee’s fine,” she said, then she caught him ogling the case of pastries and laughed. “I think the question is what would
you
like?”

His gaze swung from the treats to her face, and his eyes flashed hot. “I’m looking at her.” Crystal’s heart stopped, then took off at a sprint.
He . . . would like . . . me?
Shane winked and said, “But for right this moment, I might settle for that big peach muffin.” He rubbed his stomach. “I skipped breakfast and could eat a horse.”

“Better get two, then,” she said.

“Aw, you’re gonna go and spoil me talking like that.” Smiling, he put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against his side.

“Can I help you?” the pretty brunette behind the counter asked. The woman smiled at them both and was plenty polite to Crystal as she placed her order, but the clerk was so openly smitten with Shane it was almost funny. He joked with Crystal, tried to talk her into a pastry, insisted on paying the bill, and rubbed her shoulder while they waited, never seeming to notice the young woman’s obvious admiration. He probably didn’t even realize he’d done something special in that moment, but his actions made Crystal feel respected in a way she never felt when she was around Bruno. Hell, Bruno had no qualms at all about blatantly checking out other women when they went out together. Which wasn’t often.

Enough about Bruno. Enjoy the moment. There won’t be many more of them.

They retrieved their drinks and Shane’s softball-sized muffin and went to the little bar at the side to fix their coffee. Two creams and two sugars for her, three sugars for him. She smiled when she realized he was paying attention to how she took it.

She could get used to a man who treated her this way.
Just don’t get used to
this
man.

Shane led them toward the back of the small shop and paused beside the last table. “This okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, slipping into the booth. He slid in opposite her, his long legs spilling into her side under the table. Crystal sipped her coffee and peeked at him above her cup.

God, he was so freaking gorgeous. Nice. Gentle. Playful. The list of things she liked about him went on and on. It made her chest fill with a pressure it surely couldn’t hold.

“You look pretty in that shirt,” he said. His kind words and friendly gaze made her squirm.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” she said, not offering up that she’d made it. Sewing was one of the few pre-Bruno parts of herself she still possessed, and she felt protective of it, probably overly so. Grappling for a different topic of conversation, she blurted, “How did last night go?” Immediately, she worried she’d made a mistake when something dark and pained flashed through his expression.

“Some good, some not so good,” he said, shaking his head and looking down at his muffin. “Turns out Church’s people have another meeting sometime Friday. Maybe things will go better then.”

“Oh.” She
had
made a mistake.
Way to go, Crystal.
Not that he seemed angry that she’d asked, but he definitely seemed upset. Had she heard anything about Friday night? She didn’t think so. “Maybe I can help again,” she said, wanting to bring back his happiness.

He looked up at her, and the angle made her realize how long his eyelashes were.
Her Pretty Boy.
And he really was. “If you hear something, that’s great. But don’t do anything to put yourself at risk. We’ll figure it out.”

She nodded, but her mind spun on what she might be able to do. After all, it was only fair since she planned to ask him for help. “Here,” she said as she pulled a chunk of the muffin top free. “Open up.”

His face brightened, and he smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” He licked his lips and opened his mouth.

And the swipe of his tongue scrambled Crystal’s brain. She chuffed out a nervous laugh and went with it even though her heart raced and her hand shook. Leaning across the table, she placed the muffin on Shane’s tongue. And she didn’t think she was imagining the heat in his gaze as he chewed slowly, like he was savoring it, and made these little appreciative noises in the back of his throat.

“More,” he said.

Rolling her eyes but secretly pleased with this game, Crystal broke off another piece and brought it to his lips. When he opened, she popped it in, but he leaned forward and caught the tips of her fingers with his lips when he closed again. She laughed.

She recalled the dinner with Bruno the night before and . . .
God
. . . there was no freaking comparison. Not once in four years had she ever felt comfortable or free enough to be herself at his side. And the more she thought about it, the more she realized she might not know exactly who the real Crys—the real
Sara
—was anymore.

All she knew was that she greatly preferred the version of herself who came out around Shane, the one who laughed and joked and occasionally even got up the courage to do what she wanted, take what she wanted.

“You taste good,” he said, the smile clear on his face even as he took a long drink of coffee.

“You’re a terrible flirt, aren’t you?” It wasn’t a complaint. Crystal found it sexy and fun and flattering.