Tastes Like Candy (Lean Dogs Legacy Book 2) (35 page)

              It was hard to imagine, since she’d never been that kind of woman.

              The agents appeared a few moments later, heads swiveling as they glanced around the main floor, hands hovering near their hips because they were undoubtedly armed, and stupidly thought some sort of gunfight was about to erupt in the midst of all these civilians.

              As she watched, breath held, they split up, all of them striking out at different angles.

              Michelle left her cover and fell into step behind the female agent.

              “Four,” Talis said in her earpiece. “Three men, one woman, on the main floor.”

              “Got it,” Candy said.

              Michelle kept following, able to blend easily into the crowd, as slight and quick as she was.

              Then, Candy asked, “Where are my girls?” and her heart rattled against her ribs.

              “Jen’s with me,” Colin said over the open channel.

              “Chelle was here just a second ago.” And that was Tommy.

              Michelle wore a black hoodie beneath her leather jacket, and she tugged the hood up to hide her bright hair. She followed the agent.

~*~

Colin

He hadn’t intended to confront her so soon, like this, tonight of all nights. “Confront” didn’t even feel like the right way to say it. He just wanted to talk to her, to duck past the wall she kept so carefully erected around herself, and deal with the real Jenny he’d fallen in love with.

              She, however, had her hands braced on her hips, which gapped the buttons of the denim shirt she’d coupled with a dramatic pair of over-the-knee tan boots and skinny jeans. He was tempted to shut his eyes, so the mere sight of her wouldn’t render him speechless.

              “Col, honey,” she said with a sigh. “Can this wait?”

              He started to acquiesce, because that’s what he always did. She was a mom, she was busy, she’d never asked for him, and now here he was, taking up her time.

              But then he scowled, and said, “No, it can’t.” Because he’d asked her to marry him, damn it, and she’d refused, and…fuck that.

              She started to argue, saw his expression, then sagged sideways against the wall that led into the kitchen. “Okay. What?”

              He’d planned this in his head. But she’d never actually given him the floor in any of those scenarios, so he still wasn’t prepared. And he said, “You won’t marry me,” like a total dumbass.

~*~

Michelle

The agent moved slowly through the crush of bodies, slipping between couples and shouting groups of friends. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Michelle that she headed toward the back, behind the bar, and crossed into the gym area of the club.

              There was a crowd back here, too. Niko, dressed in blue shorts, white knuckle tape, and a whole lot of rippling muscles, was taking on any customer willing to sign a waiver and pay his hundred bucks. The line of wannabe fighters circled all the way around the ring, and inside the ropes, their hired ref was red-faced, shouting, and excited as a kid at Christmas.

              Michelle spotted “Trina” watching the activity and she sidled up alongside her, soundless and quick. It took nearly ten full seconds before the agent realized there was someone beside her. Then she turned her head a fraction and said, “Nice opening you’re having.”

              Michelle snorted. “Half-price drinks for law enforcement.”

              “How thoughtful.”

              She couldn’t dally here. The boys were on the move. So she said, “If you’re looking to make progress on this case, follow me.” And she didn’t look back to make sure, just headed for the exit.

              And heard footsteps following.

Thirty-Three

Michelle

There was a lot of panic coming through her earpiece.

              “Chelle?”

              “Michelle? Is that you?”

              “How are you on this channel?”

              “You little shit.” That was Fox.

              And then there was Candy, sounding panicked and enough like her father she wasn’t sure she could bear to sleep with him for the next week: “What the hell do you think you’re doing? When I get hold of you–”

              “Just meet me and your waitress out back,” she said, and pushed through one of the emergency exit doors into the rear parking lot.

              Another clear night awaited them outside, studded with stars, stark and crisp, the dry desert air relentless and cold. Michelle slipped her hand inside her jacket, hand finding the butt of the sleek little Browning she’d nicked from Fox, and turned around to face the agent as the door closed behind them with a loud metallic clang. She pushed her streaming hair out of her eyes. Sized up the woman standing opposite her.

              Without her extensive makeup, she looked pale, tired, and wary.

              But she was a head taller than Michelle, fit, and packing.

              “They’ll be out here in a minute,” Michelle said, and the agent’s hand curled, like she wanted to reach for her gun. “Don’t try it.”

              She swallowed, but stilled.

              “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Candy’s going to offer you a deal, and I suggest you take it.”

              “A deal?” she sneered, but her voice shook. “I’m not–”

              “Not accepting an outlaw’s terms?” Michelle guessed. “You wouldn’t want to, would you? But it’s the smart thing in the long run, for your career, for the ATF. Trust me. Just keep your mouth shut, listen to what they have to say, and do yourself a favor.”

              Before she could respond, the back door burst open as if thrown and out spilled Candy, Tommy, Fox, Talis, and Jinx.

              The agent whirled, hand hitting the butt of her sidearm.

              Fox drew with maddening speed, barrel trained on the woman’s heart. “Nice try, love.”

              Candy marched straight up to Michelle. “What–”

              “Before you lose your mind,” she said, staving him off with a hand. “Take a moment, and think about the opportunity here.”

              He scowled at her, and it was so fierce, she almost laughed. “You fucking brat. You’ve been listening the whole time, haven’t you?”

              She shrugged.

              He extended his hand. “Lemme have it.”

              “Ugh. Fine.” She popped out her earpiece and laid it in his palm. “But just so you know, you sound like my father, and I can promise you, that isn’t sexy in the least.”

              His scowl became pained, which was even more hilarious, but he shooed her toward the building. “Go find Jen and freaking
stay in there,
alright?”

              “An order?” she asked.

              “A request. From the old man you almost gave a heart attack.”

              She could live with that.

~*~

Colin

Oh hell. Why had he said that? But there was no taking it back, now, as Jenny’s blue eyes flipped wide, and her mouth parted on a gasp.

              “…What?”

              Since there was no way but forward, he squared his shoulders and said, “You heard me.”

              “Right…I’m just having trouble believing you chose to say
that
of all things
now
of all times.”

              He hadn’t known it was so close, but it turned out those words added up to the last straw. He’d been waiting – for
months
he’d been waiting. He’d been silent, and patient, and kind. Had rolled over and faced the wall and deftly slid his hand down into his boxers when she said she was too tired at night.

              She realized it was the last straw, too, when he drew himself up to his full height and leaned toward her.
Oh shit
, her expression said. But it was a little late for that, sweetheart.

              “When’s it gonna be a good time?” he hissed through his teeth. “Huh? Let’s see – not before work, and not after work, and not in the middle of the night, and not when you’re feeding Jack, and not when you’re ‘in a mood,’” he threw her words back at her. “So tell me, Jennifer, when the hell do I get to talk to you about the fact that I gave you a ring
months
ago and you won’t even
consider
marrying me?”

              “I…” The fight bled out of her. In a blink her face was white, and her eyes were liquid, and her lip trembled so badly she caught it between her teeth. “I just…I don’t want to talk about it.” But she said it weakly; if he pushed hard enough, he could tip her over the edge of the wall. He’d chased her all the way up it, as always unable to break through, and so it would be a waste to walk away now, and let her retreat back down to safe territory.

              “Well I do.”

              “I know that.”

              “Then why the fuck do you keep leaving me out in the cold?”

              “Because it’s hard,” she snapped, without any real malice. She glanced away from him and gathered her hair in one fist, held it anchored at the base of her skull. She mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

              “What?”

              “I said, ‘Once I say it, we can’t go back from that.’”

              A waitress with a loaded tray of food pushed through the swinging kitchen doors and stepped around them, leaving an almost-visible scent trail of fried potatoes and chicken tenders.

              “So say it anyway,” he pressed, and her eyes darted to his, fresh anger flickering in their depths.

              “Fine. Fine, I’ll say it. I don’t understand why you want to get married so bad. What’s wrong with what we’ve got now?”

              Did she mean aside from all the not-talking, not-laughing, not-sleeping, and not-fucking they were doing? “There’s a lot that’s wrong,” he said, grimly. “And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

              She had the decency to blush a little. But she said, “That’s just because Jack’s still a baby, and–”

              “It’s got nothing to do with Jack! You’re stuck in your own head. And you’d rather be miserable than married, and you won’t even tell me why!”

              “Because then you’d own me!” she said, and immediately tried to withdraw, lips pressed together.

              Colin caught her forearm, tightening his hand enough to hold her without hurting her. She couldn’t get away, though, and she looked a little panicked.

              “Jen.” It felt like someone had dropped a car on his chest. “Jen, look at me.”

              She did, cheeks bright with obvious shame.

              “I’d own you?”

              “I grew up in this club, remember?” She took a shaky breath. “I know how it works. I know exactly how backward it can be.”

              “Jenny–”

              “Right now, we aren’t official. We can be whoever we want to be to each other. But the second I let you slide that ring on my finger, I’ll belong to you. I’ll be your property. And I promised myself I’d
never
be anyone’s property ever again.”

              It was about Riley, still. Of course it was. But it was so much worse than Colin had thought.

              He took a deep breath. “It’s never going to be like that, and you know it,” he said, as gently as possible. “I’m not him.”

              “I know that.”

              “So don’t make me pay for his sins.”

              She glanced away.

              “And as far as the club’s concerned? We live together, sleep together, have a
child
together, and they all know what I’d do if anyone ever tried to come on to you. Do you think a piece of jewelry and a license are gonna make them think of us any more officially?”

              “I…” She slumped. “No.”

              She was still resisting, so he let go of her. “Jenny. Baby. Don’t you know why I want to get married?”

              To his surprise, she said, “No,” which meant he had to actually voice his reasons – reasons that made his throat dry.

              “Because…” He faltered, had to dampen his lips. “Because I think – no, I’m pretty sure – that I love you more than you love me, and if we’re married, maybe you’ll know that I’m serious about us, and that I won’t…” This was a terrible idea. “Ah, shit. Forget it. Whatever.”

              He started to turn, and she grabbed him this time, fingers curling tight in the front of his shirt. “Colin.” She sighed, a deep, tired sigh. Eyes still liquid, shiny as jewels and twice as blue. “It’s not true,” she said, a low, fierce whisper. “You don’t love me more. We’re the same.”

~*~

Candy

When Michelle was safely back inside – or as safe as was possible, given that she seemed to delight in throwing herself into danger, aging him mercilessly in the process – his insides unclenched and he could focus on the problem at hand. That being the problem of the ATF agent with a hand hovering beside her gun, nervous glance flicking between the five of them.

              She didn’t look much like the moaning porn star wannabe he’d taken home months before, without her makeup and her bedroom eyes. He’d known it was all an act – but stupid him, he’d thought it was just the act of a dumb sex-starved chick, and not that of a federal agent.

              Not that it mattered now.

              He glanced over at Jinx, then at Talis, searching for their silent take on this adjustment in plans.

              Talis nodded.

              Jinx shrugged.

              This was mostly a shot in the dark anyway. What could it hurt to try?

              Candy straightened up to his full height and stepped into her personal space, crowding her, pleased to see her shrink down into her shirt collar a little. "Are you wired right now?” Firm, professional voice,
no time for your bullshit, lady
.

              “No.”

              He gave her The Smirk. His best one, the one that frightened grown men. “And I’m supposed to take your word for it?”

              She gave an exasperated sigh and hiked up her shirt to the bottom band of her bra. Turned a slow circle, so he could see nothing but bare skin, her fake tan wearing away so she looked orange and streaky. “Good enough?” she asked.

              “Not by a long shot. But it’ll do for now.”

              She lowered her shirt, another furtive glance making the rounds. “Why did your jailbait bring me out here?”

              “Watch your mouth.”

              But she pressed on. “A good old stabbing? Or a gang-bang?”

              “First off, don’t flatter yourself, you’re about as exciting as my left hand in the sack.” He was glad to see her brows tuck together, offended even though it shouldn’t have mattered. It was stupid and unchivalrous of him, but he found himself hating this woman, and wanting to hurt her in some way. For deceiving him, for being a threat to Michelle. Sure, this was the way it worked: cops came after robbers. But in his own personal version of the world, he didn’t look on himself as the bad guy, after all. “And second, shut your trap and listen. This isn’t about you at all – well, not directly. But you’ve got a chance to help yourself out and stick one to your asshole supervisor in the process.”

              “What?” But interest glinted in her eyes.

              “Come on. Riley’s an idiot. He’s an asshole, and he almost got kicked out of the agency for kiddie porn.”

              She nodded; so she knew about that.

              “Obviously, someone on high wanted to keep him around, probably someone who wants all the Dogs in orange jumpsuits. A whole matched set. Someone who thought Riley – with his personal goddamn crusade – would be his best bet toward achieving that.”

              She made a face.

              “Did Riley ever tell you why it’s personal for him? Did he ever tell you about how his brother used to be one of my brothers? And about how he tried to cut the uterus out of my sister and broke every bone in her face?”

              It was hard to tell in the glare of the security light, but he thought her face paled. She swallowed, throat jumping.

              “Now,” Candy continued, “you can think whatever you want about me and mine, about the way we conduct business. But I ain’t ever laid a hand on a woman in anger, and I don’t intend to. Your boss, though, doesn’t see that as a problem. Come to think of it, was it his idea to use you as bait? There you were, with a badge, and a gun, and training, and you were flashing your tits instead?”