Shoot Out (The Baltimore Banners Book 7) (7 page)

A dark street, lit by the single light at the corner. A handful of cars lining each side, rusty and old, some missing wheels and propped up by cinder blocks. Brick rowhomes, a few with boarded windows, their marble stoops cracked and worn.

Home.

Nicole turned her head to look out the window, her eyes automatically finding the rowhome where she lived. No, where her mother lived. Nicole was only staying there. She couldn't think of herself as living there, not without feeling like she was giving up.

She blinked again and turned her head to the other side. Mat's hand was still resting against her shoulder, large and warm and too comforting. Their eyes met and held and Nicole's breath caught in her throat. It would be so easy to lean forward, just a few inches, and brush her lips against his. To feel the warmth of his mouth, to taste him and see if she had only imagined the spicy sweetness of his kisses that one night.

Mat smiled and dropped his hand, moving away and reaching for the door handle before she could do anything. Then he was out of the car, coming around to her side. Nicole muttered under her breath, calling herself every kind of fool. At least she hadn't tried to kiss him, hadn't embarrassed herself even more.

She reached for the door handle but she wasn't quick enough because Mat was already opening the door for her. He held his hand out, reaching for hers. She ignored it, grabbing her backpack instead and getting out of the car on her own.

"Thanks, I appreciate—"

"I'll walk you to the door." He placed his hand against the small of her back, waiting. Nicole blinked, thinking maybe she was still dreaming after all, maybe she hadn't really embarrassed herself.

Then she shook her head and told herself to stop being a fool. He was just being a gentleman, being nice. Nothing more. She moved toward her mother's rowhome, pulling the key from the side pocket of her backpack as she stepped over the raised slab of one of the cracks in the sidewalk. Mat must not have seen it because he tripped, stumbled, then quickly righted himself. Nicole paused, fighting the sudden insane urge to apologize. But before she could say anything, Mat offered her a small grin and shrugged, like he was saying tripping was his fault.

Nicole snapped her mouth shut and kept walking, closing the short distance to the door. She stepped away, dislodging the hand at the small of her back. "Uh, this is it. My mom's place. Thanks again."

Nicole moved, wanting to race up the three cracked steps and disappear inside, but Mat caught her hand, stopping her. Not just stopping her, but turning her toward him. He was so close, she could feel the heat of his body, warmer than the muggy air that surrounded them. He didn't say anything, though, just watched her with those intense eyes that made her heart beat too fast and heavy in her chest.

"I'd like to take you out. I mean, if that's—if you'd like to, I mean."

The words stunned Nicole and for a few long seconds, she didn't say anything, certain she was hearing things. Was Mat actually asking her out? She wanted to say yes, more than she wanted to admit, but she couldn't—not when she knew how easy it would be to fall for him.

"I—I'd like that." Her mouth snapped shut, her mind not completely understanding how those words had come out. But Mat grinned, a bright smile that lit his eyes and sent a shiver through her. He reached out and cupped her chin, his hand warm and gentle. And then he leaned forward and brushed his mouth against hers.

Nicole held her breath as a hundred-thousand different sensations shot through her, sending her body—her mind—into a dizzying tailspin. Her hands tightened around the backpack and she leaned forward, her body automatically seeking the warmth of his even as her mind screamed to run away.

Then the kiss was over and Mat pulled away, leaving her breathless and dizzy. She blinked, trying to focus on his sculpted face, his soft lips and shining eyes and the shadow of stubble that darkened his square jaw. He stepped back and Nicole had to bite her lower lip to keep from moaning in disappointment.

"Good. I'll, uh, I'll call you later."

Nicole nodded, still not sure what to say. Mat took another step back and nodded toward her door. "You should probably get inside."

She looked behind her, saw a shadow cross the window and knew her mother was watching. Waiting. Even that wasn't enough to stop the turmoil, the excitement and surprise and doubt and worry, that pulsed through her. But he was right, she needed to get inside, she couldn't stand out here all night. Nicole took a step back, then another, until she reached the stoop. Then she turned and went up the steps, her hand shaking as she jammed the key in the lock. She glanced over her shoulder, not surprised to see Mat standing by his car, waiting, watching to make sure she got inside okay.

Nicole pushed the door open and hurried through, still watching him over her shoulder. He waved and she slammed the door, not understanding the emotions running through her, not understanding how just the sight of his smile could twist her insides and turn her mind to mush.

Thirty minutes later, her insides were twisting for another reason. She sat cross-legged on her bed with the tips envelope opened in front of her, frowning as she counted the money. Then recounted again and again.

There was close to three hundred dollars spread out on the faded quilt. A pile of crumpled ones and fives—and two crisp hundred-dollar bills. And she knew, without a doubt, that the large bills had come from Mat.

She stared at them, frowning, fighting the flood of anger that was pushing all the other emotions that had been swimming through her away.

And tried to figure out what she was going to do about the extra money.

"No fucking way."

"Seriously? This is where you're bringing us?"

"Quick, inside before he changes his mind."

Something hit Mat on the shoulder, hard enough to cause him to stumble forward. He grunted then shot a dirty look at Harland Day. He shouldn't have bothered because Harland, along with Kenny and Dillon Frayser, were already moving across the parking lot. Not for the first time—or even the hundredth—Mat questioned what he'd been thinking when he came up with this idea.

It hadn't seemed quite so bad earlier, when he called a few of the other single guys from the team and asked them to join him. A few of them, like Brad Goodrich and Jens Ulfsson and Ethan Kincaid, were out of town, back home visiting with friends and family during the off-season until JP's wedding next month.

But not everyone had gone home. Some of them, like Kenny and Harland, spent most of their time here in Baltimore. Dillon had already gone home, staying just long enough to visit his parents before they left on a month-long cruise he had treated them to.

Mat wouldn't be making the trip to Michigan this summer, since he was in JP's wedding and supposedly helping out with things. With what, he had no idea, since the only thing he'd had to do so far was get fitted for his tux.

And go on that trip to New Orleans.

So yeah, calling up some of the guys and inviting them out had seemed like a good idea at the time, because Mat would have felt uncomfortable coming by himself. At least, until the trio walking in front of him had started acting like a bunch of under-sexed, hormonal teenagers as soon as they got here.

Mat glanced back at his car, wondering if maybe he should just leave. It wasn't like the boys would be stranded, not since Kenny had driven as well. Except if he left, the three of them would be in the club by themselves.

With a bunch of strippers.

With Nicole.

"Fuck." Mat ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched in frustration. What the fuck had he been thinking? He hadn't, that was the problem. If he had, he would have known right away that asking any of the guys to come with him was the stupidest of ideas. But he'd been so distracted, so wrapped up in just being with her, that he'd forgotten to get Nicole's phone number when he dropped her off last night. And how the hell was he supposed to call her if he didn't have her number? So he'd come up with the idea of stopping in here while she was working.

Definitely not his brightest idea.

"Mathias! Are you coming or what?" Kenny stood just outside the blacked-out door, holding it open as their teammates hurried in, pushing against each other. Mat cursed beneath his breath then closed the distance, mentally counting all the ways this could backfire on him.

But Kenny grabbed him at the last minute, stopping him. He looked around then lowered his voice. "Do you want to tell me why we're really here?"

Mat could lie but why? Kenny would figure it out as soon as he saw Nicole behind the bar. So he just shrugged, not quite able to meet the other man's eyes. "I just wanted to stop in and see someone."

Kenny did that single eyebrow-raise thing again but didn't say anything. Mat was thankful for that, at least. Until they walked deeper into the darkened club and approached the bar. Kenny stopped beside him, his body stiffening in surprise.

"Hey. Isn't that the girl—"

Mat elbowed him in the side, hard. "Yeah. And not a word."

Kenny just stood there, studying the bar through the dim lights and flashing neon. A minute went by before he looked back at Mat, the expression on his face unreadable.

"I hope to hell you know what you're doing." Then he walked off, heading toward the main stage where Dillon and Harland were already waving bills at the dancers.

Know what he was doing? Not a chance in hell. But he was here now so he had to follow-through. Follow-through with what, though?

"Fuck." He muttered the word under his breath then jammed his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and stood there. Yeah, this really wasn't a good idea. Not just bringing the guys here—showing up, period. What would Nicole think? Was he coming on too strong? Being too pushy? Or maybe this whole thing just reeked of obsession. Of desperation.

He was still standing there, arguing with himself, when Nicole turned around, a bottle in one hand and glass in the other. She was gorgeous. Breathtaking. Her hair floated loose around her bare shoulders, the neon lights playing with the pink streaks. His eyes drifted down, skimming over the colorful tattoos covering her upper left arm before settling on the curves of her breasts. She was wearing a shiny black strapless top with crisscross laces down the front, something that looked like it could pass for a corset. Something that made it look like her breasts were ready to spill out.

Mat bit back a groan as his cock hardened at the sight, his mind immediately flashing back to that night in New Orleans, remembering how those breasts felt in his hands, remembering the sweet taste of her skin.

He groaned again, telling himself this wasn't the time or the place. Never mind that he was in a strip club, never mind that there were at least a dozen mostly-naked women walking around or dancing up on the stage. He only had eyes for Nicole, only wanted Nicole.

But he didn't want her to think he was here just for that. He wasn't. So yeah, he should probably leave because she might get the wrong idea, especially if she saw him standing here, damn near drooling at the sight of her.

He started to turn, ready to do just that, when she looked up. Something must have caught her attention. Or hell, maybe she just felt him staring at her. It didn't matter because she turned her head, just the slightest bit. Their eyes met and held each other, long enough that he could see her surprise, see the faint blush that colored her cheeks.

Shit. He couldn't leave now, not without her getting an entirely different wrong idea. So Mat bit back his worry and doubt and walked forward, heading to the bar. There were several open seats and he chose one away from the few patrons already there. He didn't want to be close to anyone, didn't want to be close enough to see them ogling Nicole. There was no telling what he might do if he saw that.

He climbed onto the stool and hooked his leg around the rung, sliding it closer to the bar with a quick hop and shift. Nicole was still watching him, nibbling on her lower lip as she shot glances at him from the corner of her eye. And shit, didn't she know what watching her do that did to him? He doubted it, not if the uncertainty in her eyes meant anything.

She turned away, handing drinks over to one of the waiting servers. Mat's eyes drifted down her body, settling on the delicious roundness of her ass. The shorts, if you could call them that, were cut in a high V, giving him a generous view of the curves of her cheeks. He blinked and looked away just before she turned around, wondering if he had been caught staring. Again.

Nicole worked her way over to him, hesitation clear in every move. She placed a warped cardboard coaster on the bar in front of him then just stood there, chewing on her full lower lip again.

"What would you like to drink?" Her voice was a little stiff, a little too formal. Mat smiled, hoping to set her at ease.

"Just a soda. Please."

Nicole's eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before she turned away to fix his drink. He kept watching her as she filled the glass with ice, as she grabbed some kind of small hose from under the bar and filled the glass.

She placed it in front of him without saying a word. Mat was afraid she was going to turn around, that she was going to leave. But she didn't. She just stood there, watching him with a frown, like she was trying to figure him out.

He took a quick sip, trying to steady his thoughts, trying to figure out what the hell he should do now. He shifted on the stool, looked over to where his teammates were hanging out, then looked back at her. He opened his mouth, hoping something at least halfway intelligent would come out, when Nicole spoke.

"I have something that's yours." Her voice was a little clipped, maybe a little impatient or irritated or something, he couldn't tell. And he had no idea how to respond, no idea what she could be talking it.

"Uh, you do?"

She nodded, her lips pursed. And yeah, that was definitely a flash of irritation in her eyes. "Yes. Your money. From last night."

"I don't understand—"

"Yes you do. Tony told me you gave it to him, to include it in my tips."

Mat ducked his head and stared into the soda, not sure how to respond. He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to do that. He'd been watching as her boss counted out the tips, dividing them up into several piles. It had seemed like such a small amount. And he hadn't thought, just reached for his wallet and pulled out a couple of bills and handed them over with the lame excuse that he'd forgotten to tip Nicole.

He didn't think she'd notice, not really. It wasn't like she'd been there, watching him hand the money over. And he sure as hell didn't expect her boss to tell her where it had come from.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"I don't need your money."

"I know, I just thought—"

"I don't want your money."

"But I—"

"You need to take it back." She moved away, saying something to one of the other girls behind the bar before ducking around the side and disappearing.

Great. He hadn't expected that, had no idea what to do next. Where had Nicole gone? Did it really matter? Probably not. All he knew was that he had probably just blown whatever small chance he may have had with her. He'd come here tonight, just wanting to see her. To get her number and ask for that date again, to remind her she had said yes.

And he blew it. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever date he had hoped to have would never happen now. All because he hadn't been thinking, had reacted on instinct and some idiotic idea that he was helping.

Yeah. A lot of help he'd been.

Mat drained the soda then slid off the stool. He glanced over at the main stage, his eyes searching out his friends, thinking he should find them and at least tell them he was leaving. But Harland and Dillon were both preoccupied, each of them with a girl in their laps, their faces filled with bare breasts. He had no idea where Kenny was and figured he was better off not knowing. They'd eventually realize he wasn't here. At least, when they saw his car was gone they would. Maybe.

He was pushing through the door, anxious to leave, when he heard his name called. The voice didn't belong to any of the guys so he kept going. But Nicole called him again, then once more as he neared his car. He finally stopped, calling himself every kind of fool imaginable, and leaned against the side of his car, waiting.

With no idea what to expect, no idea what he was really waiting for.

Nicole hurried across the parking lot, her steps steady despite the fact that she was wearing ankle boots with a pointy heel at least five inches high. And she was still in her costume, or outfit, or whatever it was called. It didn't matter what she called it, she shouldn't be dressed like that. Not outside, not in the middle of a parking lot chasing him down because he was too big of an ass to wait for her.

She finally reached him, her chest rising and falling, her breasts threatening to fall out with each heavy breath. She reached up and brushed at her hair, pushing it off her face. Then she thrust her arm toward him, her hand curled into a fist just under his chin. Mat stepped back, wondering for just a second if she planned on hitting him.

"Here. Take it." She uncurled her fingers, showing him two crumpled hundred dollar bills. He shook his head.

"No. The money's yours. I don't want—"

"I said take it."

"Nicole, I don't want it. Okay? Just…give it to one of the other girls if you don't want it." He tried to step back, to move away, but he was already leaning against the side of his car with nowhere else to go. Unless Nicole stepped back, he was stuck just where he was.

And she didn't look like she was ready to step back. She looked angry, fire flashing in her bright eyes, a flush staining her cheeks. Her breathing was too heavy, too deep, like she had to force each breath into her lungs. Was she really this angry because he'd left a tip for her?

She took one last deep breath, her eyes dimming as some sort of calm seemed to settle over her. She glanced over each shoulder, looking for who knew what. Then she stepped forward, erasing the distance between them, and settled one hand in the middle of his chest.

"Fine. Then what do you want?"

"Want? I—"

"A blowjob?" Her hand slid down, across his stomach, lower. He jerked back in surprise when her hand cupped his erection.

"No, I—"

"Really? Because your cock is so hard." Her voice had changed, becoming a little lower, sultry. But it sounded forced, not natural like it had been in New Orleans. Mat tried to swallow, tried to breathe as she stroked him through his jeans.

"Nicole, you—"

"Maybe something a little more? Not just regular sex, not for that kind of money."

"What? I—"

"A threesome? I'm sure one of the other girls would love to join us. Your pick."