Tracked by Trouble (Bad Boys Need Love, Too #3) Page 3

  “No,” Zed said, his face scowling, the spell broken.

  Jace leaned closer, grabbing Zed’s shoulder.

  She thought she heard him say something like, “You need help asking her out?”

  Zed shoved the other male away from him. “Get lost, Savage.”

  Jace laughed. “Getting lost,” he said, dangling his keys in front of him. “You’ve got this, right?”

  Zed frowned and said, “Yeah. Thanks for the ride. And the sleeping it off part.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jace said, still chuckling. “I’ll catch you later. Training starts next weekend. Beck,” he said with a nod.

  “Jace,” she said, smiling at him. After he’d brought the engine to life and began backing up the Ford, she turned to Zed, feeling like a beginning dater, instead of the twenty-six-year-old experienced woman she knew herself to be. “Anyone ever tell you, you look like Apolo Ohno, the Olympic speed skater?”

  “A few, yeah.” Again his eyes were locked and loaded, trained on her.

  “But you’re cuter. And taller.”

  “Don’t tell Ohno.” He blushed again. “Thanks.”

  “And your eyes are bluer.”

  “He has brown eyes, I thought. Not that I ever looked into them or anything. It’s just that I…well, I…” He seemed unsure of himself, stuttering and skittering his way through the conversation, like he stumbled across ice without skates.

  She found it endearing.

  “I saw pictures, that’s all. Photos. And he…he’s part Asian, isn’t he? I’m Irish. Mostly Irish. My mom, she’s, um…she’s from the south.” He shook his head. “Thank you for the compliment,” he said simply, recovering.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “So,” he said, still unmoving.

  “So,” she said. “Maybe you’ll be as good an athlete as Ohno.”

  He scoffed and looked at his feet. “Don’t think so. I’m not training for the Olympics.”

  “He did an Ironman competition recently.”

  “Did he? Did he win?”

  “No, he placed 144th or 150th or something like that. I forget.”

  Zed nodded. “I see. Good. There’s hope for me, then, to place last. I merely want to make Rickie proud of his uncle.”

  “I’m sure he already is proud.”

  Zed’s head quickly lifted and his lips parted, as if he was going to retort. He shut his mouth and smiled.

  He had a nice smile. Full lips. Lips always appealed to her. She loved a good kisser. I wonder if he’s a good kisser. He looks like he knows what to do with his mouth. She angled her head to the side as she pondered, sucking her lower lip between her teeth.

  “What? What are you thinking?” He frowned at her.

  “What? Oh, nothing.”

  “It looked like something.”

  She felt heat flood her face. “No, it was nothing. Sorry.”

  “Okay.” He clutched something in his right hand like it would give him strength.

  “Don’t hurt your hand.”

  His eyebrows shot up and he glanced at his curled fist. “Oh, right.” He loosened his grip on his keys and held them in front of his face. “My keys. To the truck.”

  “I figured.” This was getting awkward. The guy either didn’t date much or she made him uncomfortable. He’s so good looking, though. How could a guy like that not date?

  He swallowed. “You want to get a drink or something? Not today,” he quickly amended. “I’ve reached my quota for months.” He chuckled. “Not for months, really. I didn’t mean I don’t want to see you for months. I stopped drinking like that a while back. I…” He chewed on his lower lip. “Unless you wanted to grab a bite or something. Of food…do you want to grab a bite to eat later? I have a few errands but I’ll be free later.” He let out a long, hearty laugh. “Girl, you’ve got me in a twist. I’m not usually so tongue-tied. I’m blathering like a school boy.”

  She let out a sigh and smiled. When he relaxed, he looked even handsomer. “I wondered. Sure. I’d love to grab some food later. What time? I have an afternoon shift here today but I’ll be off by five. I’ll head home and be ready by six. Will that work?”

  “Perfect,” he replied, the first relaxed smile she’d seen today brightening his face.

  “How’s Waldo?”

  His face bunched into a deep frown, the red of his cheeks turning into flames.

  “Oh, no. Did he die?”

  Again, his face relaxed. “Oh, you mean the sea lion. I told you the wrong name. I haven’t heard anything so I assume he’s fine. I’m sure Rickie would call me if anything happened to the pup. Rickie’s on sea lion watch. He patrols the Facebook page, the website…he’s even riding his bike over to the center on a daily basis. Maybe he’ll be a marine biologist someday.”

  “That would be something. Well, I hear a bank calling me before I have to start work.” She waved her paycheck. “And Sidekick is in need of his kennel. Hand over your phone and I’ll tap in my number. I’ll text you the address after you text me how much you’re looking forward to tonight.”

  “What?”

  “I’m kidding.”

  “I am looking forward to tonight.” He gave her a dazzling smile.

  Unexpected shyness rolled over her. “Thank you. Me, too. Hand it over,” she said, eager to do something with her hands besides fidget.

  When he passed her the silver smartphone, their hands touched briefly, a spark of fire igniting between them. She suppressed a gasp, quickly tapped her number onto his text screen, and added a “Can’t wait to see you, baby!” text, hitting the Send icon to send it to herself. “See you later then,” she said.

  “Later,” he said, his eyes landing briefly on his smartphone display.

  When she turned to hustle to her car, he called, “Can’t wait to see you, baby!” and laughed.

  Now she assumed the role of tongue-tied and awkward. She lifted a hand over her head and grinned at him as she slid into the front seat. She hadn’t felt this happy in a long, long time. Her happiness grew as her phone blipped. Thinking it would be from Zed, she quickly thumbed it on, only to read a message from her ex.

  I’m waiting for you to come get this fucking sofa.

  Impulsively, she typed, New plan. You keep it.

  Come on. You’ve whined for months about how it holds sentimental value.

  She winced, thinking, He’s baiting me. She typed, Keep it.

  It’s a gift from your mother. You know, the one who left your dad when you were in high school and moved to Italy? Or have you forgot?

  Her gut tightened. His words were doing their job, getting her to engage in a fight. Keep it.

  Another message blipped in. Not happening, No room. Come and get it. You promised.

  She sighed, muttering. “I promised you a lot of things, asshole. Being yours forever to do with as you please wasn’t one of them.”

  Chapter 4

  Anxiety vibrated through Zed’s bones. He slipped into a clean, blue and black plaid shirt after showering for the second time today, shoved his legs into a pair of black Chinos he hardly ever wore, and wandered into the bathroom. Still working on the bathroom remodel, he picked up a hammer, shoved it under a stack of towels on the shelf and nodded.

  His eyes landed on a tube of grout next to the porcelain tub. He rested it on the tank of the toilet like that’s where it was meant to be, closing the white toilet seat while he was at it. He glanced at the small window at the back of the shower stall, the pane slightly open to let out the steam. He reached for the handle to crank the pane shut, and closed and locked the window. “There.”

  Facing his reflection in the still slightly steamy mirror, he dabbed a tiny bit of Hard Hat styling gel onto his fingers and pushed it through his hair. The goo held his hair away from his face and didn’t make it all heavy and sticky. “At least that’s what my sister the hair stylist says.” He picked up his hair dryer and began to blow his hair back, finger styling it the way she’d taught him to
do.

  Feeling as nervous as if he’d never dated in his life, he gave up and tossed the drying device back on the shelf, gave himself a few more swipes with the brush and nodded at his reflection. “Good enough,” he said. He’d have to live with the nasty bruise on his forehead. Maybe it made him look rugged. “More like stupid.”

  He gave his pits a sniff, and satisfied that the foul smell from this morning had been vanquished with deodorant, two showers, a good lunch and lots of water, he strode from his bedroom toward the back door.

  As he made his way through his small house, he glanced around, taking mental inventory to make sure everything had been picked up. Pillows on couch, not the floor, magazines stowed, remotes arranged, dust bunnies hiding in the corners of the solid wood floor, and…and it looks fine. Whatever. It’s where I park my ass at night; it’s not a play palace.

  He stuck his head in the kitchen. Yep, new brown speckled quartz counters all clean, dishes put away, nothing in sink. He strode to the office off the kitchen—where all his science stuff was located—and checked the lock was in place. “Good. You never know where a date will land you,” he said. “My house, her house, or… ” He sighed. “…nowhere.”

  He hadn’t had sex in a while. Never the stud like his buddy Jace, still, he’d had his fair share of females when he and Jace had been party hounds, spending time with that wealthy prick Billy O’Reilly. He’d even taken a shine to Jace’s sister Jayna for a while, thinking it mutual.

  After he and Jace had a falling out, thanks to him believing Kate Bethlehem, Jace’s ex, when she said she and Jace had some sort of non-monogamous arrangement, it seemed any girl he fancied would end up under or on top of Jace. If he showed any signs of interest towards a woman, Jace made his move—he didn’t even have to say anything.

  Jace had a sixth sense when it came to snatching women out from under Zed’s nose. He’d get what Jace called his leftovers, the ones he didn’t want. That sucked. Big time, choke the chicken, sucked hard. Still, he couldn’t blame the guy for being pissed. Kate had screwed with Jace so badly, it had almost become a joke in the community.

  Zed scoffed and shook the memories free from his head as new ones settled into place. For a while, Jace thought himself the only one pursuing change, thanks to having to take care of his sister’s little girl after her mother overdosed. But then there was that damn accident—the brutal wake-up call a year ago when I slammed my pickup into the side of a tree in California.

  He hadn’t dated much since. And dating when you weren’t stoned or drunk seemed…scary…hence, he’d sought out safe, nice girls after the wreck, thinking that’s what he had to contend himself with. Nice, boring as hell women who wanted to talk about their moms or their friends or what they posted on Facebook that morning. Females who only wanted a job, someone to marry, someone to settle down with.

  Jace Savage hadn’t had to settle—why do I? He’d landed a big, fat, travel the world taking photos job, and had a gorgeous, intelligent wife. “Hell,” Zed muttered. Will I always be the guy who gets the leftovers?

  It always amazed him how he walked away from that wicked collision, unscathed on the outside—not a scratch to be found. On the inside, though, he’d been completely shaken to the point of considering pharmaceuticals for a while, at his doctor’s insistence.

  Watching Jace’s twin Jayna head toward addictive self-destruction, though, had set him straight about drug dependency. That kind of life was a no go. He’d chosen to focus on his job as a sustainable landscape engineer, and his search for the perfect woman to spend a life with. “No luck in that department—yet,” he said. He headed outside toward the truck, noting the light still lingering, illuminating the clear, wintery sky. He opened the truck door and climbed inside. Maybe this is going to be my year.

  Twenty minutes later he pulled up to Beck’s house, a friendly looking house with a fenced front yard overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca. He bet it had a splendid view during daylight hours. Still twitchy with nerves, he stroked his soul patch with his thumb, took a deep breath and got out of the truck. As he strode up the sidewalk, a porch light came on and the sound of barking came from the house. The door swung open as he lifted his knuckles to knock.

  When his eyes landed on Beck, he muttered a “wow.”

  She grinned and opened the screen door, asking, “Is that a good wow?”

  “What?” he said, once again the tongue-tied idiot. “Oh, yeah. You look great.” He licked his lips nervously and stepped inside.

  Sidekick sniffed his hand, his tail sweeping the air like a propeller. The Labrador gave Zed’s hand a few sloppy licks.

  “Hey, dog. What’s up?” He kept his focus on the pooch for a moment, wiping the back of his hand on his Chinos, unsure what to do next.

  “Ahem,” Beck said. “This dog could use a greeting, too.”

  “Oh, sorry, of course,” Zed said. “But you’re no dog,” he added. He placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her warm, soft cheek, taking note of the feel of her sexy lips on his jaw, and her pillowy breasts against his chest. His hands gripped her shoulders a little harder than he’d intended as his recently dormant hard-on twitched to life.

  “Ease up,” she whispered into his ear, her warm breath making his growing length swoon. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What? Oh, sorry,” he said, releasing his grip and stepping back to take in her beauty. He hoped she didn’t look down as he tried to think of the least arousing topics possible—think of your mom, your sister, Rickie, the gunshot sea lion, the new plants in the back yard… Nothing stopped the throb between his legs. Beck was a stunner. He half expected Jace to magically appear and whisk her away, leaving him with nothing but a surprised look on his face.

  She wore a black long sleeved crop top with red skulls all over it, and a pair of high-waist, skin hugging, black skinny jeans, ending in high-topped red tennis shoes. A mess of bracelets dangled at her wrist, competing with the numerous rings she wore. Her red hair fell loosely along her shoulders. She’d applied very kissable red lip gloss, a little mascara to her long lashes, making her mossy green-flecked agate eyes appear as large as Marni’s eyes had looked this morning. The image of Marni’s little face made him laugh.

  “Something funny?” Beck said, her lips slightly curved in a smile.

  “No. You look beautiful. I was just remembering the sight of the face who roused me from my stupor this morning.”

  “Was it a female face?” Beck said, tipping her head to the side, narrowing her beautiful eyes.

  “Yeah. A two-year-old female. Jace’s daughter.”

  Her eyes widened. “Jace has a kid? Did she come with the wife?”

  “No. Long, screwed-up story with a happy ending. He adopted her from his sister.”

  “Oh. I’d heard Jayna tried to off herself after having Billy’s kid. So you slept at Jace’s?”

  “Where else would I sleep? I was wasted.” He didn’t want to dwell on his behavior last night, or Jace Savage, so he quickly changed the subject. “Nice house.”

  “Thanks. I don’t own it. I rent. Only moved in recently.”

  “I’ll bet the view is superb. I live out of town, away from the water. Own my house. I’m remodeling. I’ve got a good view, but nothing like this.” He sauntered into the living room to stare out the picture window. The lights of a lone ship twinkled in the distance.

  “You do construction?” Beck came to stand next to him.

  He noticed the heat rolling off her body and felt the urge to get closer. “Not for a living, no. I work at The Farm, managing sustainable environments and their caretakers.” He gave her a lop-sided grin. “The plants are the easy part. The caretakers, not so much. Some people can be dicks.”

  “Tell me about it.” She returned the smile. “And then there are the good ones.” She gave him a knowing look. “You want something to drink before we head out? Beer? Wine?”

  He smirked and shook his head. “Nope, thanks. I told you, I had
my fill. I don’t think my stomach would like me.”

  “Lightweight, huh?”

  “More like smarter than I was a couple years ago.”

  “If you hung out with Savage, I’d guess that was true enough. Tales of parties on Billy O’Reilly’s yacht always made their way to Tapt’s bar, along with the participants. So, tell me…” She turned to face him.

  “Tell you what?” He turned to face her, too.

  “Why have I never seen you at the bar until last night if you were one of the famous party crew?”

  “Saving myself, I guess.” He smiled. “Actually, I never liked hanging out at bars much. I always left the party on the boat, came home and…” Read. Studied plant life. Researched. Put leaves and worms and other living organisms under the microscope in my office. Played music. Built things. “You’re pretty tall, aren’t you?”

  “Around five eight. You?”

  “Six and a half.”

  “Six and a half feet? No way.” She grinned.

  “Six feet and a half inch. My mom always made a point of letting me know I’m more than merely six feet.” He smiled back at her. His smile soured when he remembered why she did that—his brother, Lawless the Great, turned out to be six foot four and his mom didn’t want him to feel bad. Another reason for Lawless to feel superior. “Let’s head out,” he said abruptly. “I’m hungry. You?”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I could use some food, sure. Let me grab my purse, put Sidekick in the kennel in the backyard and I’ll be ready to go.”

  At the restaurant, they chatted, laughed, and ate.

  “How’d your mom come up with the name Zed?” she asked.

  “Oh, Mom had back to back kids, starting with Lawson, then Caitlin, then Grayson, then me. She hoped that by naming me with the last letter of the alphabet, she’d be done.” He smiled.

  “Didn’t she know about birth control?” Beck had laughed.

  “They were good Catholics,” Zed had answered, chuckling.

  “So, how old are you?” she’d asked.

  “Twenty-nine. You?”