Bare It All (32 page)

“Really?” Her heart pounded so hard it felt like she might
break a rib, but still Alice smiled. “You had Cheryl tattooed?”

“Yes.”

She leaned into him, surprising him with her compliance as she
rested one hand on his shoulder.

Compared to Reese, this man felt insubstantial, nowhere near as
big and solid and strong. And that made him far less important.

She braced her other hand on his shoulder, too. He was taller
than her, but being used to Reese’s extreme height, she barely noticed.
“Everyone else answers to you?”

His gaze warmed with triumph. “They do.”

Looking at his mouth, leaning closer still, Alice parted her
lips—and brought her knee up into his groin as hard as she could.

She put everything she had into that blow, all her rage at his
brutality, his cruel mistreatment of women. Her aim proved dead-on.

Breath left him in a whoosh, his eyes bulging wide. A
disbelieving,
“You bitch,”
faded into a raw groan of
anguish, and he dropped to his knees, his hands holding his crotch.

Cursing with various levels of disbelief, his men jolted into
action. Nikki and Pam got roughly shoved aside, Pam landing against the SUV,
Nikki falling to the ground.

The ladies looked confused until they saw the guns, and then
they started screaming—long, loud and shrill.

Fear got Alice’s feet moving, and she stumbled back, her heart
a loud drumbeat in her ears.

And suddenly Reese was there, a big, powerful, protective wall
standing between her and the armed savages. He took aim as he issued orders, and
unlike the weasels now dropping to their bellies, Reese’s calm voice rang with
undeniable command.

Trace and Logan closed in, as well, and in short order, they
had disarmed and cuffed the three men.

In her peripheral vision, Alice saw Woody get to his feet. She
jerked around and found him staring at her with such hatred that she felt it
clear down to her bones. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

Eyes narrowed, posture still bowed with pain, Woody reached to
the small of his back, drew out a gun and—Reese’s fist connected with his
face.

Alice’s jaw loosened at the stunning speed of the strike. It
knocked Woody back, and he landed on the ground. The gun discharged, startling a
small shriek out of Alice. But seeing Woody’s face, Alice knew he hadn’t fired
on purpose. She doubted the man was that coherent, given the look in his
eyes.

Reese was already on him, taking away the gun, flipping him
over, jamming a knee into the middle of his back and wrenching his arms together
to fasten them with cuffs. With rough hands, Reese checked him for other
weapons, ignoring Woody’s moans.

Turned to look at her, Reese said, “You’re okay?”

Wow. Fear receded under amazement. Reese handled him like he
would a rag doll, expending little to no discernible energy.

She remembered Trace saying that Reese could be ruthless.

Now she knew why. He’d leveled that man with one punch.

She also remembered Reese saying that always, at every moment,
he was aware of her.

Biting her bottom lip, she admitted that it must be true, given
how quickly he’d reached her.

“Alice?”

Heck, no, she wasn’t okay. Far from it.

She sucked in a breath and nodded.

With laudable ease, Reese hauled Woody none-too-gently to his
feet and looked Alice over, head to toes. “Are you sure?”

Still dumbfounded by how easy he’d made it look, she nodded
fast, unwilling to distract him from his work. “Yes. I’m fine.”

Tenants spilled out of the apartment building. A black police
van pulled up, accompanied by a squad car, lights and sirens blazing. Pam and
Nikki huddled together, a steady flow of tears ruining their makeup.

Suddenly feeling weak, Alice slumped down to sit on the
walkway.

“Don’t move,” Reese told her.

She wasn’t sure she could.

Watching as he wrenched Woody toward the black van, Alice tried
to catch her breath. But only for a second.

Forgetting her agreement not to move, she raced back over
before Reese could get Woody into the back of that wagon. “Where is Cheryl?”

Woody looked at her, gave a mean smile and said, “Fuck you,
honey.”

His mocking tone and total lack of feeling pushed her over the
edge. She didn’t even think about it.

She just kneed him again.

“Ah, God...”

“Alice,” Reese reprimanded. “Damn it.” He held Woody upright
with one hand, and Alice back with the other. “Honey, you can’t do that.”

But his mouth twitched.

Alice didn’t think it was funny. She literally heaved in her
anger and fear.
“Where is she?”

“Bar,” Woody gasped, curled in on himself, trying to protect
his most vulnerable body part.

Using the length of his long arm, Reese backed Alice up a few
steps and ordered, “Stay there.”

The adrenaline rush faded, leaving her knees knocking and her
eyes damp with tears. She nodded her agreement.

Reese handed Woody over to an officer. “Don’t take your eyes
off him. Understand me?”

The cop nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Glancing over to confirm that Logan and Trace had things in
hand, Reese took Alice’s arm and pulled her several feet away.

Any second now, she’d be bawling like a baby, she just knew it.
She could feel the sobs gathering steam, squeezing her throat and making her
nose tickle.

She couldn’t look at Reese, couldn’t let him see her
weakness.

But he just stood there, waiting, calm,
safe,
until finally she lifted her gaze to his.

“I love you, Alice.”

Her knees almost gave out.

Reese caught her close, not quite smiling, but looking so warm,
so...sincere.

She clutched at his shirt, her heart trying to do flips, her
pulse going into overdrive.

Reese kissed her forehead. “I love your compassion and your
courage.”

“Courage?”

“In spades.” Ignoring the way she gasped for breath, he kissed
her parted lips. “I love your sweet little body, too, and how good we are
together in bed.”

“Reese...” She looked around, but in the commotion, no one
seemed to be listening to them.

He brought her face back to his. “I especially love your
temper. But from now on, please don’t neuter my prisoners.”

What he said seemed so silly, so unbelievable. Except for that
one part... “You love me?”

“Every part of you, everything about you.” He searched her face
and whispered, “Very much.”

Trace approached. He didn’t look right at them, choosing
instead to stare off to the side. “Got a message from Rowdy. Says he has it
under control, but Cheryl’s at the bar with Hickson. DeeDee, too.” He glanced at
Alice, coughed and looked away again. “I assume you want to go...?”

Reese nodded.

“I can handle it,” Trace said. “And even one-armed, Logan has
this under control. If you’d rather—”

“I want to finish it.” Reese tipped up Alice’s chin. “I don’t
want you to worry.”

She trembled so badly, it felt like she might rattle her teeth
loose. But everything would be okay.

And Reese had said he loved her.

She drew a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

“Love that, too,” Reese said with a small smile, even with
Trace standing there. “How you pull it together to prioritize.”

“I’ll just go wait over there,” Trace said, but neither Alice
nor Reese acknowledged him.

She hadn’t pulled anything together, but apparently she was
good at faking it. “Go to the bar.” Alice still clenched his shirt, fighting the
urge to crawl up close to him. “Please see to it that Cheryl is okay.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“I know you will.” Because he was that man, the man who helped
others, who did whatever he could. A hero.
Hers.

Another second passed. Reese pried her hands from his shirt and
kissed her knuckles. “Soon as I find Cheryl, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you.”

“And Alice?” He took a step away. “When I get done with all
this, you and I are going to have a nice long talk.”

Now, why did that worry her? She promised, “I’ll wait up,” and
then, head and heart filled with jumbled emotions, Alice watched him go.

It wasn’t until an officer gave her a funny look that she
realized she was smiling. Reese loved her.

In the middle of pandemonium, with hysterical neighbors and
lights and sirens, Alice figured she just might be the happiest woman alive.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A
FTER
SENDING
OUT
the second text message, Rowdy started toward Avery, determined to keep
her well away from Hickson. As it turned out, he didn’t need to do a thing.

Avery was already moving off when Dougie, the bartender, slid
into the booth next to Cheryl. The poor girl scooted over, pressing herself as
far into the corner as she could go.

Rowdy was relieved that both men ignored her. They leaned in
close for a private conversation.

Damn. So Avery had been right. Dougie and Hickson definitely
knew each other.

For several minutes, Rowdy lounged in a corner, watching the
exchange, wondering at what point he should intercede.

Even with his mind buzzing and his senses on alert for possible
deceptions, he found himself repeatedly searching for Avery. Made sense, he told
himself. Tonight would be dangerous, and he didn’t want any woman hurt, most
especially a woman he employed.

A woman who turned him on.

Scanning the crowd, Rowdy still didn’t see DeeDee, but he
spotted Avery taking an order from a trio of young men on the opposite side of
the room. Avery was her usual all-business self.

The guys wanted more.

It wasn’t unusual for barely legal idiots of the male
persuasion to play grab-ass with waitresses at run-down bars.

The unusual part was Rowdy’s urge to flatten all three of them.
Rather than fight it, he moved toward her. If DeeDee showed up and saw him,
well, so what? She’d know he didn’t like bullies.

He was almost within reach when he heard Avery say, “Last
warning, bud. You will either keep your hands to yourself, or you’ll leave.
Understand?”

Grinning, the idiot reached for her ass, saying, “Or we
could—”

Rowdy caught his wrist and squeezed. “Or you could go home with
a broken bone or two.”

Wincing in pain, the guy said, “Hey, dude, let up.”

“Apologize to the lady first.”

“Fuck you!” He tried to swing with his other hand.

Rowdy used a grip on his wrist to twist the younger man’s arm
up and around behind his back. “Wrong answer.”

One of his buddies charged, but he was drunk and weak. Rowdy
easily moved to the side and tripped him. He wiped out on the floor, gaining
grumbles from some of the other customers.

The third fool rose, chest butting Rowdy. “Asshole! Turn him
loose.”

“Sure. Soon as he apologizes.”

“I said, let him go!” He took a short swing, punching Rowdy in
the chin, and his head snapped back.

Smiling, Rowdy worked his jaw—and popped the guy. Even using
his left hand, he sent the smaller man falling over a chair.

Unruffled, Avery lifted a brow. “Are you done?”

“Almost. Soon as he tells you how sorry he is for manhandling
you.”

“Sure, sorry, whatever.” When Rowdy tightened his hold, he said
more sincerely, “I’m sorry!”

Rowdy released him.

Now free, the punk said, “I’m calling the police!”

“Want me to do that for you?”

He flexed his arm, sullen. “No.”

“Then get out and don’t come back.” Rowdy encompassed all three
of them in his stare. “Any of you.”

Arms folded, Avery stood silent as all three guys hustled for
the door. She didn’t look at all appreciative of his interference. And, really,
now that he’d let off a little steam, Rowdy knew he’d overreacted.

“You can’t go running off business.”

But hell if he’d admit it. “I can do any damn thing I want.
It’s my place.”

She gave him a measuring stare, then made a rude sound. “Like
you’ll even remember them if they come back a week from now.”

Now there’s where she didn’t know him well. “I’ll
remember.”

That had her propping her hands on her trim hips. “Hate to
break it to you, Rowdy, but if you carry on like that with every guy who gets
out of line—”

“There are more?” He searched around the bar. “Here, tonight?
Where—” His gaze snagged on DeeDee as she strolled in. She wore a body-hugging
black pull-on cotton dress that fit like a man’s undershirt, leaving more on
display than it covered.

Out of nowhere, Avery gave him a hard shove.

Because he’d been distracted with DeeDee’s appearance, she took
him off guard, and Rowdy actually staggered back a step. “What the hell?”

She went on tiptoe to snarl into his chin, “You should change
the name of this place!”

“Yeah?” Amused by her temper, Rowdy caught her arms to keep her
close. “Suggestion?”

“Yes. Call it
Getting Rowdy.
” She
shoved away from his hold and said in a grumble, “That’s what every attractive
woman does, right?”

“Catchy. They get
rowdy
with
Rowdy.” Pretending to give it some thought, he nodded. “I like it.”

“Ohhhh, you’re...” She trailed off, clearly trying to find a
word insulting enough to match her mood.

“Waiting to get
you,
Avery.” He
tweaked her chin. “That’s what I’m doing. Waiting to get you.” And with that,
Rowdy walked away before he did something stupid—like kiss her with DeeDee
watching.

Ten minutes later, seated in a booth, Rowdy wished for an
interruption. He knew brazen women. Hell, he liked brazen women.

But not when they wanted to screw him first and then assist in
his murder.

DeeDee did indeed appear to want both.

Leaning her boobs into his side, sliding a small hand over his
thigh and licking his ear, she tried to convince him to go to her car.

“I want you so bad, Rowdy,” she breathed.

Where the hell was Reese?

Half crawling over his lap and catching his chin, DeeDee
planted a hot, wet one on him.

The second she got her tongue out of his mouth, Rowdy lifted
his beer, intent on using the alcohol to sterilize things—and his gaze clashed
with Avery’s from across the room.

With a killing glare, she turned away.

Damn it, he needed Avery to know that it meant nothing.
Except...why should he explain himself to her? They’d be working together, so
she was bound to see him hook up.

He enjoyed sexual variety.

Eventually he and Avery would get together—because he knew the
chemistry was there—but she needed to understand that it was sex, and only sex.
Not a commitment. Not an invitation for more.

No matter how much she intrigued him.

“Rowdy...” While straddling his lap, DeeDee rose to her knees.
And right there in the bar, wedged into a booth, she tried to open his
jeans.

Time to make a strategic retreat.

Rowdy caught her hands. “Hang on, honey. I’ll be right
back
.”
Fucking Reese, running late
.

He’d gotten the text from Trace that they were on their way,
but another two minutes and DeeDee would molest him.

He bodily lifted her to the side, ignoring her pouts and the
way she stroked his junk as he slid out of the booth seat. “Don’t move.”

“Hurry,” she said.

Suddenly in a killing mood, Rowdy strode over to where Dougie
and Hickson shared a booth. He wouldn’t hurt a woman, even one as revolting as
DeeDee, so he needed to find another outlet.

When he stopped beside them, both men looked up in mingled
surprise and suspicion.

Itching for a little violence, Rowdy said to Dougie, “You’re
fired.”

“What?” Dougie gave an incredulous laugh. “Who the hell are
you?”

Rowdy took great pleasure in introducing himself. “I bought the
bar. And since I’m not a scum-sucking bottom feeder—”
not
anymore
“—I don’t want your ilk hanging around. You’re through here.
Collect your shit and get out.”

Dougie and Hickson shared a look.

“I didn’t hear anything about a new owner.”

“No? Guess that tells you just how important you are, doesn’t
it?”

Dougie clenched all over.

Try it,
Rowdy thought.
Please.

“You son of a bitch,” Dougie exploded, shoving himself
upright—and right into Rowdy’s fist. The blow took him out, and Dougie slumped
back into his seat, then slid off the booth to the floor.

“Huh,” Rowdy said. “He’s not only a drug-dealing worm, he has a
glass jaw.”

Cheryl gasped, curling tighter to the wall.

“But you,” Rowdy said, turning his anger on Hickson, “are even
worse. You’re a coward who abuses women, a cockroach who needs to be
smashed.”

Half rising from his seat, Hickson said, “Now wait a goddamn
minute—”

Catching Hickson by the back of his neck, Rowdy slammed his
face into the thick booth top. Cartilage crunched and blood spilled. With
Hickson dazed, he looked at Cheryl. “You okay?”

Frozen, she said nothing, didn’t move or breathe or blink.

Rowdy tried to work up a gentle smile. “You’ll be fine, I
promise.”

No reaction.

“Alice sent me.”

She deflated on a whoosh. “Oh, thank God.” Big tears filled her
eyes.

Behind him, DeeDee tried to slink out. Rowdy glanced at her
over his shoulder, pinning her in place with his gaze. “Word of warning, honey.
You
don’t
wanna make me chase you.” In his current
mood, seeing the fear in Cheryl’s eyes, he just might discount DeeDee’s
gender.

Hand to her throat, DeeDee paused.

Finally, Reese came in the front door, Trace from the back.
Around the bar, several men separated from the crowd; Reese’s men, now ready to
assist.

Rowdy pulled Hickson out of his seat. “Here’s one,” he said to
Reese, practically tossing the man to him. “There’s another under the booth,” he
told Trace.

Nodding, Trace started forward.

Rowdy turned his attention to DeeDee. “It’s over.”

Realizing she’d been busted, DeeDee back-stepped, at first
uncertainly, but then faster and faster, and suddenly she turned to flee.

She plowed right into Avery, and both women went down.

Shit. Rowdy reached them in less than a second and hauled
DeeDee to her feet. One of Reese’s buddies took her off his hands. Kneeling by
Avery, who looked stunned, he said, “Hey.” He pulled her into a sitting
position. “You okay?”

She held her head in both hands. “It was a sting?”

“That’s right.” Rowdy brushed some dirt off her shoulder, then
smoothed down her hair.

“You and DeeDee...?”

Despite what he’d told himself, Rowdy relished the opportunity
to set her straight. “Just part of the setup.”

Instead of relief, she looked...distraught. “So, did you
actually buy the bar or not?”

“I bought it.”

Now he saw relief—though she quickly hid it behind a frown.
Avoiding his gaze, she said, “Good. I was already counting on my raise as
bartender.”

Coming to his feet along with her, Rowdy grinned. “Then get to
it. Since I just fired Dougie, you can start right now.”

* * *

I
T
WAS
DAMN
near dawn when Reese
got home to Alice. He should have been dead on his feet, but instead he felt
energized. He’d called Alice as soon as he could, letting her know that Cheryl
was shaken up, but unharmed. This time, she was more than willing to talk to the
police, to ensure that Hickson and Woody Simpson got what they deserved.

Knowing what awaited him, Reese bounded up the steps and down
the hall to the apartment. As he stepped inside, the first rays of sunlight
slanted through the patio doors.

Logan had already picked up Pepper. Dash was crashed in a
chair, staring blindly at the TV. But when the door opened, he sat forward and
pulled on his shoes.

Just as she’d promised, Alice was awake, waiting for him. Both
she and Cash looked bleary-eyed with fatigue, but they immediately rose to give
him a proper welcome.

First things first, Reese thought, and he reached for the
leash.

Alice stopped him. “Dash just had him out, soon as he knew you
were on your way home.”

Reese gave his attention to Logan’s brother. “Thank you, Dash.
For everything.”

Smiling, Dash slapped Reese on the shoulder as he headed for
the front door. “Anytime.” He already had his keys in his hand.

“Anxious to get to bed?”

“I’ll be heading for a bed,” Dash agreed with a yawn. “But not
my own, and not to sleep.” He bobbed his eyebrows, gave a negligent wave and was
gone.

Alice stared at the closed door. “He couldn’t be serious.”

Reese grinned.

“But he was up all night!”

Reese teased her, saying, “You should know that men consider
sex a cure-all for just about everything, even exhaustion.”

“Oh.” Suddenly she was hugging him, and Reese breathed in the
comforting scent unique to Alice. He ran his hands down her narrow back, and,
yes, he wanted her.

Always.

But there’d be time for that.

“You have to be hungry,” she said. “Let’s eat first.”

First,
meaning she was amenable to
lovemaking? Amazing Alice. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

She took his hand and led him toward the kitchen. Her long
nightgown nearly touched the floor. She had shadows under her eyes and rumpled
hair and she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life.

In the kitchen doorway, he pulled her around. “Alice.”

“Hmm?” She looked up at him with trust and acceptance and so
much more.

He kissed her, then went on kissing her—until Cash whined.

They both turned to see the dog standing by the counter where
they kept the dog treats, wearing an expectant expression.

Alice bit her bottom lip. “He acts like all we do is have
sex.”

“He’s intuitive, much like you.”

Laughing, Alice gave the dog a treat, then turned to press
Reese toward a chair. “Sit while I put on the coffee.”

It did feel good to get off his feet. He toed off his shoes
under the table, stretched and thought how nice it was to end a long day with
Alice.