DarkestSin (3 page)

Hunter whistled while shaking his head in exasperation.
“Back off, Blade.” He looked at Xan. “Sorry about Rico Suave over here. One of
us would be glad to help you out. But you’d have to drive up to Conway or back
to the Little Rock area for a rental. Best to call around first before making
the drive.”

“I’ll call Bill and see if he can drive one out here,”
Colonel said to Hunter, then looked at her. “He owns the rental company in
Conway. If they have something he’ll bring it out here and save you a trip.
You’ll be limited on your options, though.”

“Oh, whatever it is will be a step up from my old hatchback.
I’m not choosy.”

Colonel nodded and looked at the guys expectantly. “Which
one of you is available to help her out?”

“Bear and I aren’t finished with the tranny that’s supposed
to be ready tomorrow,” Roc barked and turned to leave. He obviously wasn’t
volunteering. Xan was okay with that. She didn’t like the vibe coming off him,
anyway.

“Sorry.” Bear smiled to her as he followed Roc.

“Gage and I have to finish puttin’ tires on Ms. Carson’s
minivan, then do Joe’s,” Blade told Colonel before turning to Xan. “I’d be
happy
to help you if you stick around, doll. It shouldn’t take us more than an hour.”

“Get to work,” Colonel snapped, and Blade winked at her as
he and Gage headed back to the bays.

“I have one more oil change to do, so I can do it in
fifteen,” Hunter said with a crooked smile, “but Brutus just finished up on Mr.
Jackson’s ’56 Chevy. He’s been pickin’ up the tools that Blade knocked over
after Blade called him a pussy.”

Oh, right. She’d forgotten there was another one around
here.
Brutus
it seemed. What was with these names? Must be a man thing,
not that she’d know. Or could even begin to understand the inner workings of
the male brain, ego, or whatever it was that fueled their behavior. Oh, once
upon a time, she knew one part of the male anatomy that tended to lead in the
decision-making process, but she’d long ago fell out of practice with that too.

Hunter glanced at Scott, remembering there was an
impressionable young man in his midst, looking contrite and shaking his head.
“Sorry, man.”

“Go,” Colonel told him. “Brutus!”

Hunter left, but his departure barely registered. Just as he
was walking toward the bay area, a man with long blonde hair and built like a
freaking bodybuilder walked her way. With each step, his muscles rippled and
his hair—what wasn’t sticking to his sweaty brow—flowed in waves behind him.

She should not find this man attractive. She didn’t care for
bulky men, and she definitely preferred short hair on the opposite sex. Long
hair belonged on women, like she used to have, but she wasn’t dredging that
memory up now.

So why was her body doing things she hardly recognized.
Hardly
recognized
, not
didn’t recognize.
She knew what that tingling
sensation in her pussy meant. The tightening of her nipples? Yeah, she knew
what that meant too. Images filled her mind of this behemoth of a man coming
over her in bed and doing very naughty things to her. She stifled a moan. Yeah,
she shouldn’t find him attractive because he didn’t fit any description of her
ideal type. But there was no mistaking the fact that her body didn’t get that
memo.

So much for not being attracted to any of the mechanics
here.

As Mister Hold-Me-Down-and-Fuck-Me-Good walked up, his
pupils dilated, turning his dark-blue eyes black as his nostrils flared, his
gaze zeroing in on the tight buds of her nipples before locking with her own
heated eyes. Good thing she was already wet from sweat because her panties just
got wetter.

She shut her eyes to break the connection her body was
trying to make with this man. She had to be smart and remember all the reasons
men were not a part of her life. She could use him as masturbating material.
Nothing more, dammit.

She wasn’t going to break her abstinence streak for anyone,
especially not a man who could quite possibly fight off every one of the other
mechanics singlehandedly. She didn’t know him from Adam, and the last—the
only—relationship she’d ever had was abusive. Hell, Marco tried to kill her in
the end. She had to find the strength to avoid any and all temptation this sex
god presented.

And she would. She was just strong enough to resist a man
built like he could break her face.

Because if she didn’t, she knew she was just weak enough to
let him break her heart.

Brody stared at the slender, dirty lady covered in sweat and
eyeballing him with a mixture of weariness and arousal and maybe even a little
fear, and he couldn’t shake the dual sensations rocking him at the sight of
her.

This first one was primal, carnal. He wanted her like he’d
never wanted another woman before. Oh, he’d had his share of women, so he
wasn’t delusional enough to think this was love at first sight or some stupid
shit like that. It had to be because of his recent dry spell in the lady
department. Even covered in a little grime, she was a babe. Her hair was a tangled
mess with tendrils clinging to her neck, her blue eyes, lighter than his, shuttered.
She had secrets she didn’t want to reveal, which was fine by him. He didn’t
need to know about them.

He had no problem fucking a woman without getting mixed up
in her personal business, but the tall kid standing next to her screamed
hands-off. Brody was a selfish bastard, but even he had his morals. Well, maybe
not morals, but he had his limits. He didn’t do married women or single moms,
and she was obviously at least one of the two. There were plenty of willing,
unattached women available, ripe for his choosing, so getting mixed up with
some lady carting baggage was not in the cards for him.

But that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t indulge with
this woman. The other sensation rocking him, besides the immediate carnal
attraction, was a feeling he knew her from somewhere. It was more than a
feeling. He was sure of it. The flash of memory he had was of a younger, more
polished version of this woman and was too quick to analyze, but it was
definitely her.

And considering he’d suffered a brain injury, causing him to
only remember the last decade or so of his life, he couldn’t place how he knew
her. There was no way he was getting involved with a woman he may or may not already
know intimately. And if the reason he knew her wasn’t along those lines, then
he didn’t want to know the extent of their previous association. Brody had
lived a reckless, dark life before his accident. He didn’t want any ghosts
coming back to haunt him, no matter how beautiful the ghost incarnate was.

Colonel was the only one who had much luck finding any
specifics about his life prior to his amnesia. He’d been the one to find Brody
in the northern part of the state on the side of the road, sans car and any
identification, and called an ambulance. Brody remembered coming to in the
hospital but had no recollection of any memory prior. He’d contacted the
authorities to see if he could be identified through fingerprint matches. Hell,
he knew the risk he was taking going that route. If he’d had a record, he
could’ve had a warrant out for his arrest or something, but not knowing was
killing him.

It’d been a dead end. And knowing what he now knew about his
past life, that in and of itself was a miracle. He must’ve been really good at
being bad to avoid any arrests.

“Brutus, I need you to take the wrecker out to get Ms.
Bradley’s car.”

Brody’s eyes cut to Colonel. With a short nod, he turned his
attention back to the lady. “You ready, Ms. Bradley?”

Her eyes widened slightly as she nodded, clutching her purse
as if it were some kind of lifeline or something. He motioned for them to
follow him out to the wrecker, then headed that way.

“Dude, you’ve got serious muscles,” the kid said as he
opened the door for his mom while Brody grunted in response and walked around
to the driver’s side. He probably should’ve opened her door for her instead. It
would’ve been the polite thing to do, but chivalry wasn’t really his thing. He
didn’t try to be an asshole. He was just a loner, kept to himself for many
reasons, including his shady past and the unorthodox demands of his side job. Unless
he needed to spend a little time between a woman’s legs, and he never really
had to go out of his way to impress a woman just to fuck her. Chicks seemed to
flock to him, and he was A-okay with that. Still, irritation prickled that he
should’ve opened her door for her. At least the kid was on the ball.

They packed into the bench seat, the mom sitting in the
middle. Good thing he had jeans on because her delicate, bare leg rested
against his. Not that it mattered. He could feel the heat of her skin burning
into his thigh. He figured she’d at least stink since she was sweating like a
horse, but no, he couldn’t be that lucky. She smelled like vanilla and woman.
Aroused
woman. His dick twitched and he shifted subtly. He really didn’t need a hard-on
with her kid in here.

She cleared her throat softly and he glanced at her. “Brutus
is it? I’m Xan and this is my son, Scott.”

At the sound of her voice, that old vision of her flashed in
his head. For some reason, he didn’t remember her sounding like an angel. “Er,
nice to meetcha. Brody’s my name, but Brutus is my handle.”

“Your handle?”

“Nickname. What I go by. We all have them.” And the last
thing he wanted to talk about was nicknames. In fact, he didn’t want to talk at
all. He just wanted to get their car and get back to the garage so he could get
out of this tiny cab. It was getting smaller as his dick was getting harder. If
he didn’t find a distraction soon, he’d have a permanent zipper imprint on his
cock.

“What are the other guy’s real names?” she asked as she
pointed to the green hatchback on the side of the road.

“Ask them. Not for me to tell.” He pulled over and backed up
to their car.

“Wow, it only took like a minute to get back out here after
walking all the way to the garage,” Scott said as he jumped out of the cab.

“You walked?” Why did that bother him? It was only a couple
of miles. Hell, he ran five miles every day, and that was just the start of his
exercise regimen.

“Uh-huh. That’s why we look a mess.” She chuckled as she
scooted to the passenger door. He immediately regretted the loss of heat, which
was fucking ridiculous since it was the hottest part of the day in the hottest
part of the year.

Thinking it best not to encourage conversation, he got out
and hooked up the car. Scott actually volunteered to help, and it surprised him
that the boy wasn’t just some lazy teenager. He figured that was good, at
least, for her. Not that it mattered to him. But the kid still watched as if he
were trying to learn something.

Xan stayed out of the way, which was a fucking blessing. Her
short shorts were loose around her thighs, and at this angle, he’d be able to
see clear up to her pussy. Well, if she wasn’t wearing panties. If she was his
woman, he’d have to forbid them ’cause they just got in the way. Why was he
even thinking about that? She would never be his woman. She was totally off-limits.

He had to end his dry spell tonight. It was Friday, so the
local bar would be packed. If he didn’t want the headache of hooking up with
local tail, he could always hit the city.

Yeah, that idea sounded better. It’d cure the erection he’d
been tamping down the last fifteen minutes and help him focus the next time he had
to see this woman.

Because living in a small town it was bound to happen.

And being the only garage in this small town made that
possibility a guarantee when the woman drove a car older than her kid.

“Got it. Let’s go,” he mumbled without looking at them as he
climbed back into the truck.

The cab definitely shrank. He was panting from the effort it
took to rig up the car, and the only air he was inhaling was filled with
vanilla and the honey of female arousal. There was no stopping his dick now. He
had a full-on raging erection, and her damn leg kept rubbing against his,
making him even harder than he thought was possible. He had to get them the
hell out of here.

He threw the truck in reverse, backed up and barreled down
the road, making it back in record time. He backed the car up to the empty bay
and got out, unhooking it with single-minded determination.
Get it down, so
she can get her shit.
That was all he thought as he worked methodically.

As soon as he freed the car, he hopped back into the wrecker
and parked it across the lot and away from that woman, taking his time to lock
it up. He noticed some of the other mechanics hovering around her, helping her
move some luggage and other stuff into the rental that blessedly arrived while
they were gone.

Blade and Hunter seemed a little too eager to help her, and
he noticed they each brushed up against her more than once. He bit off a growl,
which surprised him. So what if they found her attractive. She was a sexy
woman. But Bear managed to help too, without molesting her in the process. Surely
Blade and Hunter could manage that too. Roc and Gage kept working while Colonel
talked to Bill. His son must’ve followed him out here because he sat in the
car, waiting in the air-conditioning. Brody shook his head. Scott not only
stood outside while Brody had hooked up the car, but also volunteered to help.
Bill’s boy was probably the same age, if not older, and a worthless piece of
shit.

Whatever. It didn’t matter to him. He grabbed his portable
tool case and stalked up to the garage as Scott got in the rental car and Xan
glanced over at him.

“Thanks for your help,” she said as she opened the door,
keeping her eyes on him, making him just a little uncomfortable in his chest
and a lot uncomfortable in his pants.

He nodded once and turned away, focusing a little too much
on putting his tools up. He couldn’t talk to her. He didn’t want to talk to
her. That woman was off-limits. He didn’t see a ring on her finger, but she had
a kid. That was strike one.

And he knew her from somewhere. Strike two.

Those were reasons enough for him to avoid her like the
plague. He didn’t need a third.

Thankfully, he heard two cars pulling out, and when he
turned, she was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was fucking ridiculous
that he’d be avoiding a woman as if he were scared of her, but he had no
choice. He would avoid her. The attraction was strong enough that he could’ve
possibly talked himself into dumping his no-baggage rule where her kid was
concerned. But the fact he knew her was a deal killer. She hadn’t acted as if
she knew him, so that was good, but he couldn’t take the risk of her
recognizing him before he could figure out why he knew her.

And he may never know.

Before he turned back to the tools, he saw Colonel watching
him. Shit. He was caught staring after that woman. He didn’t need his boss
busting his balls.

Too late, he was headed this way.

“What do you think of our lovely new citizen?”

Brody shrugged as he wiped his hands.

“That much, huh?” Colonel chuckled, then sobered. “I have a
job for you,” he murmured.

A job. That only meant one thing, and it wouldn’t involve
vehicle repairs. He was referring to the side jobs he and the other mechanics
did. The truth was Colonel’s handle was more than just a nickname for a boss.
He was the leader of their secret mission group. Their team was a group of
guys, all misfits he’d figured, who took on vigilante-type jobs the feds either
didn’t want to do themselves or private citizens wanted done with no trace left
behind. Whether their jobs were legal or not so much, they were always
unsavory. The law looked the other way on their private gigs because they
didn’t do anything they wouldn’t do—and hadn’t done—for the government.

“Whatcha need?” This job was the perfect distraction. It’d
give him something to focus his attention on besides that maddening woman.

“Xan Bradley. That’s your new assignment.”

* * * * *

Xan spent Saturday morning unpacking their things and going
through the stuff Agent Parsons had sent, making a list of what she still needed
to get. The FBI always tried to do their best to make her comfortable when she
and Scott had to move. It was the least they could do since she was the reason
one of the men they’d sought was now behind bars. She’d only hope that Marco
stayed that way.

As she looked over her old and new clothes, she sighed. The
comfortable, casual clothes from discount stores were a far cry from the
designer, one-of-a-kind outfits Marco had wrapped her in. She’d been a trophy
wife, so she had to look the part. Long, silky hair perfectly styled. Long,
manicured fingernails—the real kind. He wouldn’t stand for fake nails, which
was ridiculous since he’d been discussing her getting a breast enlargement at
one point. But the clothes—the clothes would’ve made a movie star jealous. Only
the finest threads to cover her bruises.

Had she liked all her designer duds? Hell yeah. She was a
chick who’d grown up poor and was thrust into a horrible marriage. The clothes
had been a perk. They’d been her the-glass-is-half-full moment to her marriage.
When Marco would send her out for a new pair of Christian Louboutin shoes or a
Louis Vuitton bag, she’d almost felt loved. It wasn’t until after speaking with
the feds that she’d realized all her shopping expeditions had been orchestrated
to get her out of the house or away from her husband so he could conduct his
business, and after she’d learned how he’d made his money, she didn’t want to
keep anything that was purchased with it.

Cheap clothes off the rack? Yeah, she’d take those any day
and revel in them if they meant her freedom.

After she finished hanging up her clothes, Xan went into the
living room where Scott was setting up his PlayStation. “In your bedroom,” she
said, shaking her head.

“Ah, c’mon, Mom. The TV’s bigger in here.”

“You heard me.” She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a
bottle of water from the fridge, uncapping it as she walked back into the
living room. “Have you finished unpacking your stuff?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Uh-oh. You’re breaking out the ‘yes ma’am’. You must want
something bad.” She chuckled, taking a swig.