LaceysGame (2 page)

She’d understand…right?

Lacey lived in a redesigned loft across town. It acted as
both studio and home. It was meticulously neat, rarely a thing out of place in
his experience. But this was…unreal. After he’d used his key to let himself in,
he found himself standing in the middle of the main room, staring at…nothing. Her
things were gone. Logically, he knew what that meant. But he wasn’t letting
himself admit it. Not yet. She couldn’t be gone.

No.

He’d only left town on Friday. He’d been gone two damn
nights
.
Two nights. He couldn’t have been so fucking stupid as to let her leave him
like that.

Except the evidence was right in front of him.
Right
in front of him… She was
gone.

Hurling his keys across the empty cavern of a room, he
stormed into the kitchen and hit the lights. The glass-fronted cabinets
revealed empty shelves. The refrigerator was empty. The pantry was empty. The
bathroom had none of the numerous soaps and lotions she loved. Everything was
gone. Her bedroom…the same.

Finally, in the extra bedroom that she rarely used, he
lucked out and found some sign of life. As in boxes. A number of them. Packed
up as if ready for storage. The sight of it was like a fist to his chest.

Stunned, he leaned against the door frame. She was gone…

Hearing the familiar sound of a door opening, he turned. Lacey—

Taking off down the hall, heart racing, he came to an abrupt
stop. The man in front of him wasn’t who he wanted to see. Cole Stanton, Rocki’s
fiancé, stood there, his hands in his pockets and an appraising look on his
face.

“She’s not here.” Cole—the master of understatement.

“I see that,” Brogan snapped. “Where the hell is she?”

The other man shrugged. “That’s not for me to say. I just
promised to make sure things got moved into storage. She’s subletting her loft
for a while and I need to get this stuff put away before the new tenant moves
in next week.”

New tenant…
Brogan’s stomach dropped to his knees. This…shit.
This wasn’t a temporary thing. She wouldn’t be giving up her place if she was
coming back any time soon. “Damn it, where is she?”

“Why do you care?”

Brogan stalked across the floor and reached out, fisting his
hand in the other man’s shirt. He hauled him close until just a few breaths
separated them. “If you don’t tell me where she is, I’m going to pummel that
pretty face of yours.”

A tight smile curled Cole’s face. “You can try.” Then Cole’s
hands shot out and, with surprising ease, he broke Brogan’s hold. After he’d
moved a few feet away, he smoothed his polo shirt down and pushed a hand
through his hair. Just like that, the pretty boy looked like he was ready to
step onto the cover of
GQ
. “Here’s the deal, Brogan… You want to go a
round with me? I’m game. I’d love to hurt you some for what you did to Lacey.
But I’m not telling you shit. Go put that fancy-ass security firm of yours to
use or figure it out on your own. Lacey
left
you. You treated her like
shit and she needed to be away from you. If you don’t like that, then I suggest
you start figuring out what the problem is, fix it and then go after her. Because
if you can’t fix it? You don’t deserve her.”

“Sir?”

Brogan looked up from the report spread out over his desk. It
was the Layton account, one he’d almost lost because he had his head up his
ass, one he couldn’t focus on while he was worrying about Lacey, and even
though it was one of his biggest accounts, he couldn’t even care.

He was fucking rich and he had a number of big accounts—he
ran one of the better security firms in the region and he didn’t give a flying
fuck if one of his biggest clients was unhappy. Which just went to show how
fucked up he was.

He couldn’t find Lacey… Yeah, he had his head up his ass. He
was in security. And he couldn’t find the woman he needed to find—

“Sir!”

Looking up, he saw his administrative assistant standing in
the doorway. Seth wasn’t exactly the typical assistant, but he did a hell of a
job. “Yes?”

“I think I’ve found her.”

“Shit,” Brogan muttered, shooting up from the desk. “Why
didn’t you say so?”

The look in Seth’s liquid, dark eyes spoke volumes, but the
black man said nothing, just held out a file.

Brogan snatched it away and flipped through it. There wasn’t
much. She’d had a paycheck cut. That was about it. Nothing about where she was
living or anything. Nothing on her credit cards, nada.

But a paycheck… That was good enough. Because now he knew
where to look for her.

“It’s from a bar,” he said quietly. “This is all we have?”

Seth nodded. “I ran the place. No problems that I can tell—owner
is new. He inherited it from an uncle about a year ago. His name is Louis
Rainier.”

That name…

Brogan glanced up, frowning. “Rainier.”

“He’s a photographer too. They were in school together. I
went ahead and did background on him, saw that they attended college together. They
were there at the same time, had some photography classes together, so it’s safe
to say they knew each other.”

A knot clenched in Brogan’s gut. He tried not to think about
it. Nothing mattered. Three weeks had passed since Lacey had disappeared but he
had an idea where to find her now.

He checked the address for the bar.

Lexington.

He could be there tomorrow.

“I need you to clear my schedule.”

Seth smiled. “It’s already done.”

Brogan stared at him.

With a shrug, Seth said, “Everybody but you can see how you feel
about her…sir. I’m just trying to do what I can to get you back to your normal
state.”

Eying his friend, Brogan said, “My normal state?”

“Yes.” Seth turned away, heading back to his desk. “You’re
normally an asshole and I can say this without worrying about losing my job for
two reasons. One—you’re my best friend and I figure you’re not going to fire me
for speaking the truth. Two—you won’t find anybody to replace me, considering
the way you’re acting lately. So let’s get you back to normally cheerful self.”

“I’m never cheerful.”

“True,” Seth said. “But you’re usually not this bad.”

Put on my blue suede shoes and I boarded the plane…

Lacey closed her eyes and lost herself to the music. Lou was
playing the piano and the lights were so bright, she couldn’t see the crowd.

That was fine with her.

She loved music almost as much as she loved photography. She
loved losing herself to it, loved the rhythm, the beat…

And very few could match her the way Lou did.

He’d launched into “Walking in Memphis” the minute they’d
talked her onto the stage and she didn’t know if she wanted to smile or sigh. The
song held painful memories now. Memphis wasn’t the playground it had once been—Brogan
had figured out she loved the city and they’d visited a few times.

But it was a bittersweet memory and she still loved the
song.

Her voice was huskier than normal as she reached the chorus,
but she didn’t let it stop her. He’d taken enough from her. He wasn’t taking
this too.

The song ended and Lou didn’t even give her a chance to
catch her breath before hitting the next one.

“Summer of ’69”
.
That’s more like it,
she
thought. Just the beat of it was enough to bring her spirits up and she was all
but dancing on the stage by the time it ended.

They did another three songs while the regular band finished
up their break and then, before she could retreat into the crowd, Lou caught
her around the waist and dipped her back, taking her mouth with a kiss that
stole her breath away.

She heard the crowd whooping and she was gasping for air by
the time he let her go.

Laughing, she let him lead her offstage. She should have
gone back to the bar.

But part of the reason she was here was to forget. To feel
better about herself. And to heal.

Nobody could make her feel better the way Lou could, she
figured. Why not let him do it?

Walking in Memphis
…

The moment he heard that husky, throaty voice, he knew who
it was.

Standing in the back of the crowd, he stared at Lacey up on
the stage and fought the urge to tear through the crowd to get to her.

Not right now, Brogan told himself. He could wait until she
wasn’t in front of a damn crowd.

She was here to sing?

He scowled. Had he known she did that? He knew she
could
sing, but had he known she did professionally? Was that how she was making a
living now? What about photography? He’d known she was doing
something
here at the bar, but he’d assumed she’d done some photo shoots or something.

Not singing.

She was standing up there on the stage wearing one of the
corsets Rocki had likely designed for her, and her alone. It was blue, matching
the song she was singing rather well, sapphire blue and it gleamed against the
ivory smoothness of her skin. From here, he couldn’t see the smattering of
freckles that dotted her shoulders. He loved those freckles, loved tracing them
with his tongue, teasing her as he touched her. He couldn’t see them, and he
hadn’t thought about how much he missed them until that very moment.

But he could see the way her skin gleamed, the way her
breasts swelled above the corset, the way it nipped in at her waist. The short
skirt she wore rode low on her narrow hips, cut high on the thigh, and she wore
a pair of boots that went up over her knees.

She looked hotter than hell and it wasn’t for him.

Jealousy twisted inside him, but he battled it down. He had
no right to be possessive, not after the way he’d acted. And he needed to be
calm, rational…because sometime soon, he’d find a way to talk to her. Convince
her to give him another chance.

Of course, he was doing okay with that plan…right up until
the fucking pussy playing the piano came up and grabbed Lacey, kissing her. Acted
as if he had a damn right to. Lacey smiled at him. Smiled. Laughed. And when he
led her off the stage to the cheers of the crowd, she was still smiling.

Dimly, he realized somebody was up there talking.

“Man, our Lacey has a set of pipes on her, doesn’t she? We
need to forget having her work the bar and just have her sing!”

The crowd broke into a chorus of bellows and screams.

Work the bar…
?

She’d left Asheville, and him, to come here and work behind
a fucking bar.

He couldn’t believe it.

Okay, yeah, he could. She’d needed to get away from him and
that was enough of a reason to leave, but what he couldn’t believe was that
he’d pushed her that far away. Asheville was home to her. She loved it.

He’d made her need to leave.

I’ve got to fix this.

With that in mind, he started to work his way through the
crowd, elbowing through rows of bodies three and four and five people deep at
times. The place was packed, full of people laughing and talking and in
general, just loving life. It made him that much more aware of how empty
his
life was.

How much he needed Lacey back.

So he’d find her.

Fix all of this. Bring her back home.

Maybe find a way to belt the bastard who’d been pawing her
in front of a bunch of people.

* * * * *

Lou’s clever hands managed to make rather quick work of her
corset.

“I’m impressed,” Lacey said. Then she was too busy gasping
as he boosted her up onto his desk and dipped his head, closing his mouth over
her nipple. “Most people can’t undo one of these things so fast—I don’t think I
can.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he mumbled against her damp
flesh. “Haven’t we established that?”

Groaning, she arched closer.

A face flashed in front of her mind but she blocked it out. She
was here to
forget
.

Lou slid a hand up her calf, teased the sensitive flesh at
the back of her thigh. “Lacey, I love these boots, you know that?” He skimmed
his lips up her neck to whisper in her ear.

“Good to know. I’ll keep it in mind the next time I want a
raise.” She dipped her hands into his hair and squeezed her eyes shut.

“A raise, huh?” He chuckled. “That mean you’re going to hang
around a while?”

“Hmmm. I dunno…oh.”

Lou slid his hand between her thighs, under the lacy edge of
her panties. And without pausing, into her. Her eyes flared wide and she fell
back, catching her weight on her hands and staring at him.

“We okay?” he asked quietly.

She saw all the questions in his eyes. Three weeks…and she
hadn’t been able to bring herself to this. But she wasn’t going to stop living.
Three weeks wasn’t a lot of time, no, but the sooner she cut all ties with
Brogan, the sooner she’d have it through her head they were done. She couldn’t
think of a better way to cut ties than to give herself to somebody else…and the
only person she could even think of getting close to was Lou.

She reached for him, tugging him closer. “We’re okay.”

His eyes, as blue as the sapphire satin on her corset,
searched her face. Reaching up, she tugged the band out of his hair and caught
the back of his head. “Come on…did you bring me back here to talk or fuck my
brains out?” she asked, all too aware of the desperation edging into her voice.

If something didn’t happen soon, she’d start to think.

And she couldn’t do that. No way, no how.

“Hey, I’ll have you know, I can do both,” Lou muttered,
sliding his hands up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher and higher, until it
was bunched up over her hips, leaving her bare from the waist down, save for
her boots. “I can talk…and tell you how much I’ve missed you. How damn hot I
got watching you sing.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She grinned at him, relieved that he wasn’t
going to make her think.

As he went to his knees in front of her, Lacey sagged back,
bracing her weight on the cluttered surface of the desk behind her.

His fingers curled into her butt, tugging her closer to the
edge. “Spread your legs for me, Lacey…yeah, like that.”

As his mouth touched her, she closed her eyes.

And tried not to let herself pretend she wished it was
somebody else.

Say no, damn it
.

“We okay?” he’d asked her.

Brogan had honestly expected her to say
no
.

But she hadn’t.

Now he stood there, staring through the slit in the door,
feeling like the world’s biggest deviant, and the world’s biggest ass, and a
million other things, as he watched some bastard going down on
his
woman.

Lacey was
his
, damn it.

But she was sitting in there, letting another man touch her.

Long moments passed and he watched as another man brought
her to climax, and son of a bitch, she wasn’t faking it, either. He knew her
climaxes—knew the feel of them, the look of them…even the taste of them, but he
didn’t have that pleasure now.

Another man did.

Brogan was stuck there watching.

Just let that be all I have to watch
—

A sly little voice in the back of his reminded him,
You
can leave whenever you want
.

He couldn’t leave until he’d talked to her.

But he didn’t have to watch her having sex, damn it.

Before he did something that would make things even worse,
he tore himself away.

I should just go home
, he thought woodenly.

It looked pretty damn clear that she’d already kicked him to
the curb.

Except Brogan wasn’t ready to let her go.

Not as easy as that.

So he’d go back up to the club. Wait until he’d cooled off. Wait
until he could find her for a few minutes. Talk to her.

They needed to talk.

He doubted he could manage a rational conversation tonight,
but he sure as
hell
wasn’t leaving until he at least figured out where
in the hell she was staying.

Although he had a sinking suspicion he already knew.

Nearly an hour passed before Lacey left his office.

Louis Rainier settled back behind his desk, a smile on his
lips, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself.

He’d made her smile. Finally.

Then he’d made her sigh.

It had taken a long time, but Lacey had finally smiled for
him.

It wasn’t proving very easy to lighten whatever dark cloud
had settled over her…

The phone on his desk rang.

“Yeah?”

“Boss, you remember that dude you wanted us to watch for?”

Narrowing his eyes, Lou leaned back in his seat. “Yes.”

He’d been in contact—albeit brief contact—with Lacey’s
friend back home, Rocki. After she’d seemed so quiet and sad, he’d gotten
worried. What kind of friend would he be if he wasn’t worried? They might be
very good in the sack, and maybe he’d carried a torch for years, but she was
also one of his best friends. He was
supposed
to worry about her. Rocki
had all but had him seeing red by the time their brief conversation was done.