“What’s up?” I asked Boonie, rubbing the back of my neck.
“You sound like crap,” he said, laughing. “Hungover?”
“No, just stayed out too late. You need something, or you just determined to make my life a living hell for shits and grins?”
“Wow, someone needs his beauty sleep. I’ve got a job for you. Need you to make a run into town, connect with our friends there. Bring your truck.”
“Got it.”
Hanging up the phone, I reached over and smacked Carlie’s butt.
“Suck your own dick,” she moaned. “Wanna sleep some more.”
“At the moment I’d take sleep over you sucking my dick, too,” I replied, rubbing my face and yawning. “But I need you up and out. That was Boonie—he’s got business for me.”
She moaned again, but she sat up and rolled out of the bed. I watched as she leaned over, boobs jiggling. They were nice, but Becca’s were better. Remembered them vividly. She’d filled out since then, which I’d bet my left nut just made them better.
Oh yeah. That was enough to wake my cock up.
Suddenly I wasn’t so interested in going back to sleep, but when the president says move, tapping ass ceases to be a priority. I stumbled toward the shower, ducking under long enough to rinse off the sweat and by the time I’d come out Carlie was dressed.
“You need a ride?”
“Nope, I’m going over to Darcy’s shop,” she said. “Got an appointment in an hour and a half to get my highlights done. Figure I’ll stop off and grab her some coffee on the way. Assuming they’re open after your little bust-up yesterday.”
I grunted.
“So what was that really all about?” she asked, obviously not ready to let it go. “Never seen you get that worked up about a waitress before. Something I should know about?”
Something about her voice sounded off . . . Wait.
“What do you think we have here?” I asked, frowning.
She shrugged, but I caught the hurt look on her face. Fuck. Hadn’t seen that coming. Carlie was a nice girl but no fucking way I planned to get involved with her.
“It’s just sex, babe,” I told her. “You know that, right?”
She didn’t look at me. Double fuck. Okay, probably shouldn’t hit that again, not if she was going to get all clingy and shit. Not that it was my problem if she did, but Deep was into her and I didn’t need complications like this in my life. Hopefully she’d catch the hint. I threw my shit together as she dug around for her purse. The woman wasn’t stupid—less than a minute later and she was ready to go.
“You want me to call you?” she asked as I opened the door for her. I shrugged.
“No, I’ll probably be busy. Don’t wait on me, okay?”
“I hear you,” she said softly, then started down the stairs, moving fast to get away from me. I closed the door behind me and locked the dead bolt, wondering how I could be so goddamned stupid. She was already out in the alley as I reached the bottom and stepped outside.
Out in the alley talking to someone.
Joe Collins.
Holy motherfucking, cocksucking shit.
Joe Collins was coming out of Becca’s building. Something dark and hateful boiled through me and I considered whether I had enough time to kill him and dump the body before meeting up with Picnic Hayes.
Then reality caught up with me and I had to bite back a humorless laugh. Instant karma, right?
Carlie got the shaft and apparently so did Becca. Just not from me.
—
Half an hour later I was just shy of the I-90 turnoff when I saw a car pulled off on the side of the road, emergency lights flashing. That was Becca’s little Subaru. Fucking perfect, because I didn’t have time for this and I really didn’t want to talk to her—not after watching that asshole leaving her place.
When I’d seen them together at the bar last night I’d nearly lost my shit. Nothing less than instant hatred toward the bastard holding her. For years now I’d been keeping an eye on Becca, my club brothers standing in for me when I wasn’t around. So far as I knew, she hadn’t really dated anyone seriously. This one, though . . . I’d asked around, and apparently Collins was a decent guy who could hold his own. Exactly the kind of man she should probably be with, which made me hate him even more. Cocksucker.
The whole thing had messed with me, especially after seeing her rolling around with Blake on the roof.
Not that I took the apartment to be close to her. Wasn’t a factor. Sure, there were other places to rent. Cheaper places. Nicer. But the downtown location was perfect, close to all the . . . well, Callup didn’t have anything downtown. Fuck. Didn’t know what I was hoping to accomplish here—she was beyond off-limits. But then I’d seen her last night and the limits shifted . . .
Now here she was, stuck on the side of the road.
I really, really didn’t want to see her. Didn’t want to see her pretty tits, which looked exceptionally nice this morning, all pushed up with her arms crossed under them. Had no interest in her hair, or how it would look wrapped around my cock. Speaking of things that should’ve been wrapped around my cock, her lips were nice and puffy.
Bruised from sucking Collins’ dick last night?
“What the fuck happened here?” I growled, stepping out of my truck. At least she’d found a decent pullout, one of those wide spaces overlooking the river, shaded by the cottonwoods.