Faster (Stark Ink, #3) (8 page)

“This is Ava,” Emilio told the others. “Stark,” he added for good measure. “You know her brothers.” He grinned at her. “Adam, Dalton, Jonah. And... DJ?”

She smirked at him to hide her guilty expression. She was so busted. “DJ’s my nephew, actually.”

“Ah,” Emilio replied. “DJ’s the nephew.”

Ava nodded to the assembled group. Most of them returned the greeting. Her eyes fell on the largest of them, though, who did not look particularly happy. His long, black hair and bronze skin marked him as Sioux Nation. There were plenty here in Rapid City and on the nearby reservation. She smiled at him.

The huge man merely grunted at her.

Ava waited for him to say something, but he didn’t seem inclined. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Emilio. “Is that a good grunt or a bad grunt?” she asked him.

Emilio eyed the man for a moment before answering. “A neutral grunt,” he declared.

“Neutral?”

Emilio grinned. “Hawk has a long memory. Unfortunately. But he’s coming around, right?”

Silence.

Ava’s brows knitted together. “But why neutral? What’s the deal?” She looked the man over carefully before asking, “What did Adam do?”

It had to be Adam. He was the worst Stark offender. Even though he was engaged now, occasionally women still showed up at the tattoo shop, not having gotten the message that the eldest Stark was off the market. Apparently, Ava’s older brother left a lasting impression.

No one answered. In the sunlight that filtered through the open bay door, the thin gold band on the man’s left hand glittered. Ava caught a glimpse of it and then gasped. “Oh!” she gasped. Her mouth was hanging so far open she might catch flies in it. “Oh, crap!”

Emilio was about to say something when the large Sioux snorted. A deep, baritone voice filled the garage. The man’s voice was just as intimidating as his appearance. “If he’d done
that
, little girl, he’d be in pieces all over the Badlands.”

Ava swallowed hard and stared up at him. She didn’t dare doubt his words. “He’s getting married,” she told him, hoping to smooth things over.

Another grunt.

The blond guy draped an arm over the Sioux’s shoulders. He smiled, white teeth flashing. “We know. We got an invitation. Hawk’ll be there. I promise.” He elbowed the larger man in the ribs. “Water under the bridge, right?”

“Might put
him
under a bridge,” the large man muttered.

The blond frowned. “Hey, now, let’s not— ”

Ava stepped forward, ignited by his threat. “Look, I don’t know you and I’m sorry for whatever it is my brother did with your wife. But that was a long time ago. He loves Calla and he’s getting married.” She took another step forward, letting her anger get the better of her. “And if you so much as touch my brother, I will
end
you. I promise you. I don’t care how big you are. There are ways. So many ways. And I won’t lose sleep over it. Not one night.”

“Whoa!” said the blond. He ditched Hawk and surged forward toward Ava. “Now let’s not kick up a ruckus here in the garage. Too many potential weapons and I just hosed off the floor this morning.”

Before Ava could react, he slipped the keys to the Olds out of her hand and winked at her. “I’m Tex, by the way.” He jingled the car keys at her. “And we’ll get your car fixed up. No problem. Service with a smile, right, Hawk?”

Emilio took hold of her wrist and pulled. He led her away, across the garage, toward a door marked Employees Only.

“Damn,” someone said behind her. She didn’t recognize the voice. “Emilio snagged a live one.”

“Sassy,” someone concurred.

Ava’s heart pounded in her chest as she allowed herself to be led away.

The one voice she did recognize rumbled low and filled the bay with its deep timber. “I like her. He should keep that one.”

The door slammed shut behind them and Ava realized they were in a small break room. There was a sink in the corner and a refrigerator against the wall.

“Damn,” said Emilio as he looked her up and down. “Guess you take after your brothers, huh? You and Jonah, making friends wherever you go.” He laughed.

Ava took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d momentarily forgotten that Emilio had met Jonah, and that he’d apparently covered for her. She owed him for that.

“Pretty much,” she replied. “Listen, I...” She took another breath to steady herself. “Thanks for not saying anything to Jonah about how we met. There wasn’t time last night to ask you to keep it to yourself.”

Emilio nodded. “I figured he didn’t know. He seems... protective, to say the least. Breaking the rules, huh? You sure you’re eighteen?”

Ava felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle again.

Emilio held up his hands. “Oh, easy there, little mama. I’m just teasing you. Don’t take a swing at
me,
okay? I know you’re eighteen. Jonah told me.”

Ava eyed him warily. “What else did he say?” She couldn’t even begin to guess what Jonah would say about her. She didn’t even know how Jonah felt about her, honestly. Even after all those years of growing up in the same house, both adopted Starks seemed to have that and only that in common.

Emilio grinned at her. “He said you just graduated and that you’re a bit of a handful. I think you’re
two
handfuls, at least, but I kept it to myself. Your brother doesn’t look like an hermano I’d care to tango with, if you know what I mean. He seemed cool with me taking you out, though, once he found out who I was and my friends vouched for me.”

Ava jutted out her chin defiantly. “What if
I’m
not cool with you taking me out?” She did, though, of course. Emilio was just too tempting to resist. But it was odd to be kept off balance like this, to not have the upper hand. 

He grinned— insufferably— then he shrugged. “You want to play games, muñeca? We can play. I know some fun ones. But lying? It’s no good. There’s no point.”

“I was in a
bar
,” she reminded him.

He held her gaze.

Snake
, Ava thought. She chewed the inside of her lip. “Sorry,” she finally told him.

He nodded. “So, you came all the way across town just to see me. I’m flattered.”

She scowled at him. “Maybe I changed my mind.”

“No, you haven’t. Give me your number.”

She cocked her head and looked up at him. “For what?”

“So, I can call you when your car is done.”

She felt somewhat deflated by his answer, but wouldn’t let it show. “Can’t you just do me now?” she teased.

His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know how much I want to.”

She watched him, waiting.

He shook his head, though. “I shouldn’t touch you,” he told her. “I’m dirty, Ava.”

“Thank God,” she whispered back. 

He laughed. “Maybe Shooter’s wrong. Maybe you have
too
much sass, muñeca.”

“You keep saying that: muñeca—what does it mean?”

“Wrist.”

Ava wrinkled her nose. “Not very sexy.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Despite his declaration just seconds ago, he took hold of her wrist and turned it over until the soft underside was exposed. He brought it to his lips and pressed them to her skin. “Seems sexy to me.” His hot breath caressed her and she shivered in spite of herself.

She was used to taking charge. Her swagger and confidence usually overwhelmed her intended targets, but this guy was different. Emilio wasn’t intimidated, didn’t count himself blessed that she would bother with him. He looked at her as though he’d woken up this morning knowing she’d seek him out, like he’d been waiting for her all day.

Ava had never met any guys like that, for sure. “How old are
you
?” she prompted.

Cocky. He was far too cocky.

He kissed her wrist again and then, reluctantly, dragged his lips away as though it pained him to have to stop. “Twenty-two.”

Ava wrinkled her nose and pulled her arm back. “Oh. Well, forget it then.” She turned and waved him away dismissively as she stepped toward the door. “Too old,” she called back.

“Old? Who’re you calling old?” he demanded.

She felt his hands on her hips and suddenly she was dragged backward, against him. She giggled. “Guess your little blue pills are working,” she declared.

Emilio’s hands traveled up and tugged gently at the hem of her shirt. They slipped inside and his fingers splayed across her bare belly. It fluttered at his touch. His lips brushed her ear. “You got a mouth on you, muñeca.”

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. “Really?”

“Yes.”

His thumbnail scraped the fabric of her bra. Just a tease.

Ava bit her lip. “I’ve never used it before.” Her confession surprised herself and she held her breath, waiting.

He groaned. “Dios,” he replied in a gravelly voice. “Please, God, tell me you’re not a virgin.” His mouth pressed harder against the side of her head. “I’m not strong enough to walk away, muñeca,” he whispered. “I’m a good guy, but I’m no saint.”

Ava tensed. “I’m not a virgin,” she replied reluctantly. She didn’t really want to think about Clint just now.

Emilio didn’t respond, though. His hands stopped moving.

She turned her head to catch a glimpse of him. “Emilio?”

He was quiet, too quiet. Ava was about to prod him when he said, “Not actually sure how I feel about that.”

Fucking Clint,
Ava thought. She wished he’d just fade away completely.

She twisted out of Emilio’s grip and tugged her shirt back down angrily. Before she could leave, though, he caught her elbow and turned her back toward him. She stood for a moment, under the harsh florescent lights, looking up at him. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, frowning as he did so. “Seems like maybe you’re not sure, either.”

Ava pursed her lips. “Doesn’t matter. He’s done. There were plenty after him and there’ll be plenty more.”

It wasn’t the whole truth. She’d made out with plenty of guys, mostly after races, standing around the bonfires. She’d screwed one of them, taken him to the back seat of his muscle car and straddled him until he came. She’d walked away frustrated and pissed off and not really knowing why.

She tried to twist out of Emilio’s arms but he held her firmly. Her heart skipped a beat as he leaned down slowly. His lips touched hers, soft, not urgent this time. She opened her mouth, but he didn’t take the invitation. The kiss was slow, almost chaste, and nothing they’d said or done up until now had made her blush as deeply as she was right at this moment.

Emilio pulled back. His hands slid away from her face. His cocky grin was gone. Embarrassed, she almost wished it was there. She preferred their playful banter to this.

“Just in case any of them forgot to kiss you like this,” he said softly.

Ava turned away. This time he let her go. She stalked to the door, cheeks aflame.

“Ava,” he called after her, but she didn’t listen.

She tugged open the door and disappeared through it, wishing she could disappear altogether. She drove the Olds back to Sienna’s place and ducked out the side door once again. This time the sun was shining overhead as she trudged through the grass back to her own place.

She mounted the back steps, headed toward the kitchen door, when she froze, peering through the glass.

Her heart stopped.

She stood motionless, unable to either reach for the knob or back away. The silhouette of a familiar figure loomed in the living room.

“Sonofabitch,” Ava whispered quietly to herself. Her heart had re-started and was now trying to pound its way out of her chest. Blood roared in her ears.

She couldn’t think what to do. She could leave, she supposed. That was an option. She could dart around the side of the house, slip onto the Honda, and speed away before anyone knew she was even here. She could even knock over the green BMW racer that she knew,
knew,
was parked out front. She might even slash the tires before she made her exit.

But that still left the problem of the leather-clad rider standing in her fucking living room, talking to her fucking family.

“Fuck!” Ava ground out and grabbed for the brass door handle. She twisted it so hard it nearly snapped off in her hand. She stomped through the back door and into the kitchen. Her heavy boots thudded on the linoleum. She stopped herself from slamming the door behind her, though.

Calla smiled at her as she chopped vegetables at the kitchen counter. “Oh, hey, Ava!” She turned her head back toward the living room, “Ava’s home!” she called out. “Wash your hands,” she insisted, wiping her own on a dish towel. She leaned toward Ava and whispered conspiratorially, “I invited him to stay!” She grinned like she’d taken up the matchmaking mantle that Jonah had refused to take up.

Ava took a long time washing her hands at the sink. There were knives in the block just a few feet away. She could stab him. She really could.

“Thanks for inviting me,” a familiar male voice rang out from the adjoining room.

“Oh, it’s no problem!” Calla replied. “Enough food for everyone.”

Ava turned and looked at Adam, who was rising up off the couch at this point. He didn’t seem as perky as his fiancée. He shot Ava a questioning look as he moved forward.

Ava shrugged. It was all she could do. The house was now a veritable field of landmines, fraught with invisible tripwires. There were so many ways this could blow up in her face, and Ava knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the fact that he was here at all meant things were about to do exactly that.

Explode.

Devastate.

Possibly reduce her to ashes or maybe just vaporize her altogether.

He smiled at her. Ava wanted to pounce on him.

“Hey, there,” he said, sounding ridiculously cheerful under the circumstances. The sharpness in his eyes didn’t fool her, though.

Ava gritted her teeth and forced her own smile. “Clint.”

Calla stepped between them, carrying a huge bowl of tossed salad. “Lunch is ready!”

A
va couldn’t move, either toward the dining room table or to the front door to escape. She stared at Clint. Surely he wasn’t actually staying? How could he eat with them? What the hell? If this was some kind of sick, twisted game, he could forget it. She wasn’t going to play.