Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4) (11 page)

He wasn’t sure how many
Cosmopolitans
it took before Elle was standing in front of him, with all of her hair braided. Not just the left side as she had before.

“Andiamo, il professore di italiano mi aspetta!”
Let’s go, the Italian teacher is waiting for me.

He studied her, frowning. She was beautiful, those big eyes of hers even bigger and her delicate features more gorgeous and accentuated without anything in the way, but he loved her thick long hair flowing around her. Man, he should have been paying more attention to what she’d been doing. No wonder she’d chosen the styling chair farthest away from him.

“What?” she asked innocently, lifting her hands to him, fluttering her eyelashes. “Don’t like my nails?”

Long, bloodred, decorated nails. Fucking sexy.

Not the problem. Not at all.

He cupped her neck and took her mouth, deep and hard. She tasted so damn good. That he didn’t kiss her to shut her up was lurking in the recesses of his mind but he did his damnedest to ignore it.

“I don’t think you heard me correctly yesterday; I said the braids had to go,” he growled against her lips.

She smirked. “Oh, I heard you, believe me. I heard you loud and clear.”

* * * *

“Wow, you’re smashing.” Paige greeted them with a whistle at Rosita’s. She looked at Jack, then back to Elle. “I take it he doesn’t like it, does he?”

Nope, he didn’t seem to like it. Then again, he’d kissed the living wits out of her, before
and
after the Italian teacher, so it was anyone’s guess. She wasn’t too crazy about the new hairdo either, especially how tight her scalp felt and how badly she wanted to scratch it, but his expression every time he glared at her was worth all that discomfort and more.

“Those braids have to go.”
Who the hell did he think he was? She didn’t take orders, much less ones issued with that tone of master of the universe.

“I have a bone to pick with you, lady,” Elle said to Paige. “You’ve been blabbing to a certain very hormonal sister. I thought you had my back.”

Paige grimaced. “So sorry. She’s scary. She forced it out of me. Who knew brand-new moms became such Godzillas?”

Elle laughed. Didn’t she know. She had always been an overbearingly responsible little sister. Always ready to lecture her. Heck, Tate had become a very successful corporate secretary mere months after graduating from college. Elle herself had been partying and missed her own graduation.

Never mind how stubborn and straitlaced her sister had been, Rosita’s was still theirs thanks to her, not to Elle. Tate had stuck with it come hell or high water and restored it to the successful family restaurant it had been when Jonah and their dad were alive, and had gotten a fantastic team in the kitchen and outside. Paige, for example, with her choke collars and piercings and Goth makeup, was the best maître d’ Rosita’s had ever had.

Elle, instead, had done what she always did: run. Such a frigging irony that now that she wanted to stay, everyone wanted her to go.

“Checking around, pet. Don’t go anywhere,” he growled, then walked to the back.

“Pet?” Paige asked in a whisper.

Elle rolled her eyes. “He’s delusional, but I’m humoring him.”

“Is he going to be here on a permanent basis? I thought yesterday was an exception.”

Elle shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“He is so…intense.”

Tell her about it. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him, but boy it got her motor running. That severe demeanor, those icy-blue eyes. That gravelly voice. No man had ever gotten that primal reaction from her. Crazy attraction none withstanding, she knew there could never be anything between them. They would drive each other insane. But that was just as well, because she was not looking for love or a relationship. Heck, she wasn’t even sure sex was a good idea. Every time he kissed her, her damn heart stopped and her core flooded. Such raw passion. Such intensity, in the kiss and in the hand restraining her. She didn’t like being held in place, being told what to do, and that was all he did. He was a rock and she would never get him to move. And yet, for all her sound reasoning she couldn’t deny she wanted him, badly.

Shaking those thoughts, Elle got on with prepping, and soon they were welcoming the first patrons.

The evening started calmly, but it soon took a turn for the worse.

The second Elle saw Cole, James, and Max marching into Rosita’s, their faces stern, she knew she was in trouble. Tate had given her up. She’d seen that same expression on Jonah’s face many times and it always meant trouble.

“My bro-in-law and his lovely entourage,” she greeted with a smile. “What brings you here at this ungodly hour? Got the hankering for some Italian?”

The three of them stopped in front of her, James and Cole with their arms crossed over their chests. Max leaned on a table, more relaxed, but serious nonetheless.

Nope, no hankering for some Italian.

They were there to ride her Italian ass, she could tell.

Jack could too. He glared at her. “You told them.”

“No, I didn’t. Momzilla did.”

“Who?” Jack and James asked at the same time.

“Your wife,” she told James and then turned to Jack. “I had to tell her. There were only so many times I could dodge her.”

Elle had explained to Tate what was going on. Well, a decaf, light version of it, keeping out names and as many gruesome details as possible. By the end of it Tate had been cursing like a sailor. Elle had sworn Tate into silence. Ha.

“Believe her. Resistance is futile,” Max said. “I love Tate to pieces, but she’s terrifying these days.”

“The only reason she isn’t here is because Jonah is sleeping, for once, and she doesn’t want to wake him up, so you got us,” James explained. “Much better for you.”

“I told her not to worry and not to tell you. Jack has everything covered.”

“No offense, man,” James said to Jack, “I trust you with my life and with hers, but she’s too visible here. She needs to lay low. Head out of town.”

Jack didn’t say anything, although she knew he totally agreed with her brother-in-law.

“Christy has a friend in LA who went to Europe for a month,” Cole began. “Her place is on the beach. That’s perfect for you.”

Elle smiled innocently. “What, Europe?”

“L.A. Although Europe could be good too,” Cole said, turning to James. “What was the name of the small town you were in for your honeymoon?”

“Lucera. No one would look for her there.”

Max shook his head. “An American woman in a tiny Italian village with someone looking like Jack is anything but inconspicuous.”

No shit.

“The cabin in St. John is a no-go. Too obvious,” James added.

“We could send her to Redwaters with Annie’s mother,” Max suggested. “That town is full of crazy doomsday preppers armed to their teeth. Although with those resources Elle is very capable of starting World War III.”

“Guys, no—”

“Right. L.A. is it then,” Cole stated, ignoring her. “I’ll get the tickets for tomorrow. It’s short notice, but I’m sure I can organize some time off.”

“No,” she repeated, but no one was listening.

“I’ll drive her to pick up her stuff, then to Alden,” James said. “I know Tate wants to see her before she leaves.”

“I said no,” Elle screamed to get their attention.

The three Bowen men stopped talking and turned to her.

Bad idea. Too much attention.

“No? What do you mean no?” Cole asked. “You don’t get a no.”

Like hell she didn’t. “I’m not going anywhere. I have things to do here. Thanks for your concern but butt out.”

“Elle, for once in your life stop being difficult and do as you’re told,” Cole growled, exasperated. “This is no joke. We’re trying to protect you, and we can’t do it if you’re here.”

“Last time I checked I was an adult.”

“Maybe you should start behaving like one,” James suggested.

They were crowding her, using their size to intimidate her. All of them too big and taking up too much space. She wouldn’t be surprised if they snatched her and she woke up in Utah, in the middle of nowhere. With Jack’s blessings, of course.

To her utter surprise, Jack stood between them. “Cut it out and back off. All of you.”

Watching Jack and Cole stand toe-to-toe was nerve-racking. They looked like two tanks on a collision course.

The oldest Bowen frowned. “You, if anyone, should agree with us. Why are you taking her side?”

Yeah, why? Elle would have asked, but she couldn’t find her voice.

“She wants to stay, she’s staying,” Jack said. “She’s an adult. We can’t kidnap her.”

Elle’s eyebrows shot to the sky. Really? Because that was exactly what he’d threatened her with a couple of days ago on their way back from Florida.

“Things run smoother if we don’t have a hostile hostage in our hands,” Jack finished.

Max snorted. “Good luck, because Elle is the definition of hostile hostage.”

“Guys, I appreciate the concern, I really do, but you’re wasting your breath and my time. There’s nothing you can say Jack hasn’t already said. We agreed we’ll reconsider the situation the second he believes there’s danger, but until then I’m staying and that’s final. Now, if you want to dinner, you’re more than welcome; otherwise it’s bye-bye.”

“I knew she would win,” James muttered.

“By the way,” she said to him, “have you already updated Jack on the family addition?”

“What family addition?” Jack asked, frowning.

Nope. They hadn’t.

“We inherited an old locker and a new sister,” Max chimed in.

* * * *

Nico was settled in the Irish pub where Marlene’s wake was taking place. That Marlene had been Cuban and most of the assistants were too didn’t seem to matter one bit to this crowd that were toasting her with whiskey. Typical Florida. A total mesh of people and cultures. He knew; his sorry Russian ass had been working for a Colombian since what seemed like for-fucking-ever.

He really hoped this little incursion would bring some results, because he’d cast a wide net but nothing had panned out. He’d followed all the possible leads, checked on the pilot and Aalto’s driver. From what he’d discovered so far, neither of them had talked, texted, or e-mailed about Maldonado or the trip. The police were keeping the witness’s name and whereabouts well under wraps, and none of his contacts knew squat.

The wake had gone on for a while, but he’d started working the crowd just recently, after enough alcohol had flowed to muffle uncomfortable questions like “Who the hell are you?”

He’d gone through the group of frat boys from her school, the airport personnel, her family and friends, being as inconspicuous as possible.

He approached an African American woman who seemed to be a bit tipsy. Sad and tipsy, the perfect combination to loosen a woman’s tongue. And blur her memory.

“For Marlene,” he said lifting his glass.

She followed suit and took a sip. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you.”

“A friend from the neighborhood.”

“Ah…yeah,” she said, dabbing her reddened eyes.

“So horrible,” he mumbled, repeating what he’d heard a thousand times tonight.

The lady nodded. At least this one was not trying to score with him. How people thought a wake was a good place to pick up partners was beyond him.

“We worked together at the airport.”

Damn. He’d already snooped around the airport crowd and gotten nothing.

As he was already moving to leave, she said, almost to herself, “I still can’t believe it. I worked a shift with her two days before it happened. In the morning she was driving back to Florida after spending the weekend with her sister and that night she was dead.” Her voice broke at the last word.

Nico stilled. If Marlene had been driving back to Florida in the morning, who had dispatched the flight?

* * * *

The day had been hectic, but not as much as the previous one, so Jack wasn’t the least surprised when Elle came downstairs in the wee hours in her pajamas, fetched her ice cream, turned on the TV, put her feet on top of the table, and opened her laptop.

Jesus, how many things did she need to have going on in order to calm down and fall asleep?

Jack walked to the TV and turned it off. Before she complained he sat on the sofa by her side and said, “I mounted a security alarm on the door and the windows. Just in case you’re thinking about going out for a spin.”

She laughed. “Why?”

“I think it’s self-explanatory,” he said, taking a pill and flushing it down with a sip of water.

“What’s that?”

“Antacid. You’re giving me a ulcer.”

“It’s not me. It’s eating at one a.m. It takes some getting used to.”

“Says the lady gorging on ice cream. You should be five hundred pounds, gulping down food the way you do.”

Elle shrugged. “Fast metabolism.”

Yeah, and running herself ragged every day.

“Besides, tomorrow I have gym,” she added. “I’ll train an extra half hour.”

Which brought him to his next question, no matter how badly he dreaded the answer. “What’s in store tomorrow?”

“Gym, classes, work. The usual.”

Fuck him. The usual was a killer.

“What? Too much for you?” she asked, reading him perfectly. “Because I’ll remind you I was up on my feet all evening while you were sitting with the Bowens having dinner.”

True. She’d been running all over tending to patrons and still had had the time and energy to visit with the Bowens as they’d been telling him about the freaky news of their lost sister.

Elle studied him for a long second before she spoke again. “You didn’t answer when Cole asked why you were taking my side.”

No, he hadn’t answered and he wouldn’t now. The truth of the matter was he hadn’t liked seeing Elle pushed against the wall. Sassy little thing that she was, the Bowens didn’t understand that she thought too much of them to give them her wrath.

Pity she didn’t have the same issue with Jack.

“You could have gotten rid of me today very easily, yet you didn’t. You like having me around; admit it,” she said with a smirk.

He dodged her statement. “You like pissing me off; admit it.”