“Sis, my associates are going to stay for dinner,” Jeff told her. “You better go get your bread—I think it’s done rising. You guys are gonna love this, Marie’s bread is amazing. She’ll fix you a fuckin’ great dinner.”
Marie gave her brother a tight, fixed little smile, eyes shooting daggers at him. I had to bite back a laugh—she obviously wanted us gone in a big way. For a minute I thought she might refuse, but then she broke her gaze, murmuring something as she brushed past us to go outside. I couldn’t decide if that disappointed me or not. The food smelled great and I hadn’t even realized how hungry I’d gotten.
But she should really tell her brother to fuck off—maybe tip that pot of spaghetti sauce over his head or something.
Jeff flicked on his giant-ass TV to mixed martial arts, another layer of bullshit in my opinion. Apparently he could afford a TV the size of a car but he couldn’t afford to upgrade to a place fit for his sister to live in.
I shook my head and took a seat in front of the kitchen bar, which separated the cooking area from the living room in the tiny trailer. Leaning back against the wall, I crossed my arms to watch Marie come back inside with the tray of bread, quiet as a mouse. Had the guy who’d hit her broken her spirit? I liked a woman to follow my lead, but a girl without at least a little fight wouldn’t be much fun in the sack.
“Grab us some beers, sweet butt,” Max called from the couch. I watched as she stilled, biting her lip. I could almost read her thoughts—she wanted to take one of those beer bottles and break it over Max’s head. I kinda wanted to see that myself. Instead, she set down the tray on the counter and turned to the fridge, pulling out four drinks and handing them around.
I sighed. Too bad, would’ve been fun to watch her take Max down. Not that he’d let her go too far with it, but hell . . . bastard could use a bottle over the head.
Marie ignored me as I opened my beer, turning back to put the bread in the oven and then grabbing some shit for a salad. Big fuckin’ surprise, watching her cook turned me on. Her clothes looked like hell, but I knew what was underneath and every movement was graceful and feminine. Then she grabbed another beer, popped the top like a pro, and took a deep swig, mouth wrapped tight around the length of the bottle’s neck.
I seriously considered vaulting the counter.
Instead, I sat, nursing my drink and counting all the different ways I’d do her before this ended. Over the bar, for sure, from behind. Maybe against the wall. Definitely in the shower and maybe even on my bike. Bed? Why the hell not, some of those missionaries were pretty damn smart. I’d fuck her face, too, and maybe even her ass.
My dick added its vote in favor of that plan and I shifted restlessly.
Goddamn jeans weren’t helping the situation.
When Marie pulled the bread out of the oven, the smell almost killed me. Five minutes later she had salad, pasta, and the works laid out on the counter, along with plates.
“Dinner,” she said shortly, stepping back as the guys stood and grabbed the food.
The meal blew me away, tasting even better than it smelled. The bread was savory and rich, with a hint of garlic and herbs and something else I couldn’t identify. The sauce was chunky and tangy and full of fresh tomatoes with big spicy meatballs. Even the salad was fantastic, and totally different. It had the usual greens, but it also had nuts and fruit and some kind of fancy cheese.
“This is amazing,” Picnic told Marie as he filled his plate a second time, voice full of genuine admiration. “You can really cook. My old lady used to cook like this.”
That caught my attention. Pic didn’t talk about Heather much, and never to strangers. She’d been dead for years, but it could’ve been yesterday so far as Pic was concerned. He’d given Marie a serious compliment.
She flushed prettily, and murmured, “Thanks.”
I held back a frown. I didn’t like her blushing and murmuring at another guy.
Fuckin’ Picnic.
The food was gone all too soon, though I’d definitely gotten my fill. Hell, I should bring her back to Coeur d’Alene just to cook—woman had a gift. Picnic caught my eye and jerked his head toward Marie. I sighed.
Time to check out Jeff’s story and then scare the crap out of him.
I was ready to finish this particular game. I’d joined the club for the freedom and the fun, and now I found myself managing some hacker asshat like a goddamn human resources officer. Bullshit all around. Might as well get a job down at city hall, buy a suit, and trade my bike for a minivan.
“You might want to go for a drive,” I told Marie, wishing it didn’t need to happen. I’d wait for her to get back, but still . . . lotta ways for things to go wrong under the circumstances. “We’ve got business.”
“Do you mind, sis?” Jeff asked. She shook her head, looking almost wistful. Then she pulled herself together and smiled at us—that same bright, fake smile she’d given earlier—as she went to the door and grabbed her purse.
“Well, nice to meet all of you, um . . .”
Picnic stood and offered a wolfish grin. I didn’t care for that one bit—I’d have words with him later.
“I’m Picnic, and these are my brothers, Horse and Max.”
Marie looked at me, her expression puzzled. I raised a brow, waiting to see what she’d do next. Ask about my name, maybe? Nope, she was chickening out.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Picnic,” she said.
“Just Picnic. Thanks again for the food.”
There was that admiring tone in his president’s voice again. Time to shut it down.
“I’ll walk you out to your car,” I said, voice firm. Pic gave me a knowing look and I realized the man had been fucking with me.
Again.
Asshole.
“Take your time, we can wait,” Pic said, pulling Marie’s car keys from his pocket and tossing them to her. She stepped out of the trailer, me right behind her. The door slammed shut, the warm evening air surrounded us, and I felt myself relax. Dealing with Jensen was a pain in the ass, but it would be worth it because I planned on having a hell of a good time with his sister before I was finished.
I snagged her hand, pulling her toward the table, turning and tucking my hands under her arms to pop her onto the end. She stared up at me, blinking rapidly as I slid my hands down her sides, wedging them between her legs and pushing her knees gently apart. Then I leaned into her, inhaling her scent once more.
Marie smelled even better now than before, with a hint of fresh bread added into the mix. I gave serious thought to biting her shoulder, just to see if she tasted half as good as that scent of hers suggested.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she said, her voice quavering. She pulled away from me, glancing toward the trailer. “I mean, everyone is waiting for you, right? I can just go, let’s forget this, okay?”
I leaned back, studying her, wishing I felt half as unaffected as she seemed to be. If she didn’t want me touching her, why would she let me hold her like this? This tension between us was incredible. It couldn’t only be on my side. Could it?
The fading evening light caught on her bruise.
Fuck.
Maybe her spirit really was totally broken. I decided to poke at her and test whether she’d fight back, even a little.
“That how you gonna play it, sweet butt?” I asked, deliberately taunting her. Her eyes narrowed and flashed. Sexy as hell.
“I’m not your sweet butt,” she snapped. “Fuck off.”
Now that was more like it—my girl hadn’t checked out entirely after all. I laughed, loving the spark in her and wanting to see more of it. That wasn’t all I wanted, though. I grabbed her waist and pulled her into my body. The hot, welcoming softness of her pussy hit my cock and it felt better than I’d imagined, which was saying something. I closed my eyes for a second, swiveling my hips and dragging my length up and down across her clit through the fabric of our pants, all but tasting the moment I’d sink into her sweet opening.