OGs: Deep Down (26 page)

“Next time, you call me,” he said in her ear.

She looked up. “I didn’t want to bug—”

“Next time, you call me,” he repeated, his voice rougher now. The “or else” was implied in his tone. She was going to ask about it, but he fell upon her, holding her face with both hands on her neck, and kissed her long and thoroughly in front of God and everyone.

Since deciding to move their relationship to the next step, Mike had had no problem kissing her in public. Or touching her. The very next day she’d gone to the gym, she was warming up for the abs-and-butts class, when Mike had come and kissed the living daylights out of her. Then he’d glared at the line of guys already leaning on the wall, waiting for the class to start, and growled,
“Out.”
In two seconds flat they were all gone. And so far they hadn’t come back. She shuddered to think what Mike had threatened them with.

Angie had flipped for joy. Sam had taken it all in stride. His presence in the house that morning after Kyra was sick, their kiss. Him being around that evening and the next ones. Sam was not only uncomplaining; she was ecstatic.

Kyra was excited and alarmed in equal parts.

As they were kissing, a blast of foam hit them from the side, interrupting them.

She swiped her face with her hand, but that was also full of foam; she didn’t make too much headway. “What are you doing in here? Aren’t you too old for this?”

“Sam didn’t want to go in by herself, but she was dying to, so I lifted her to my shoulders and went for it.”

Kyra looked at him for a long moment. “You’re so getting lucky tonight.”

Mike barked out a laugh. “Baby, I get lucky every night nowadays.”

“Lucki
er
,” she emphasized, wiggling her brows. She had his glasses on, so she doubted he could see her wiggling her eyebrows, but he got the point and chuckled.

“Well, as fantastic as that sounds, I have to tell you it will be late, because I have a date tonight.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You do?”

“Yep. With a beautiful brunette whom I promised pizza and a movie. You’re welcome to join us. I negotiated with her so I get to choose the pizza and she gets to choose the movie.”

“So we’re watching…?”

“
Karate Kid
, or the
Karate Kid
with the girl, or the new
Karate Kid
with Will Smith’s son. It’s still unclear.”

Kyra laughed. “It sounds like that brunette has you wrapped around her little finger.”

“Did you hear the part where I get to choose the pizza?” he asked, opening his eyes wide. “Huge victory if you ask me.”

“Scared of Sam’s pizza decoration?”

“Gummy bears do not belong on pizza. No way, no how. I thought Angie soaking them in vodka when you guys were in college was bad, but having them melting on top of pepperoni and tomato? Much, much worse.”

Kyra laughed, but before she could answer, he whispered against her lips. “And by the way, the brunette may have me wrapped around her little finger, but her mother has more power over me. She’s got me wrapped around every part of her. She just has to smile at me to send me to my feet.”

* * * *

“It looks like I’m late for the fun,” Max said from behind as Mike was stomping his feet into the ground, trying to shake the foam.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to head for California?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving in two days. We’ll be shooting for a month. Then I plan to catch a plane and go on holiday before going back for several weeks of more shooting.”

“What’s this time, heli-skiing? Skydiving? BASE jumping? Ice climbing? Wakeboarding?”

Max smirked. “Do you really want to know? Although I’m pretty tame nowadays.”

Mike shook his head. Nope, he didn’t want to know. Max had cooled down a lot since coming back from the military. Now he got to do most of his tricks under supervised conditions as a stuntman. Still, adrenaline junkie that he was, he enjoyed any sport with “extreme” in front of it. Max called it sports; Cole “attempted suicide.”

“I’ll send you a postcard,” Max said. “Between one thing and another, I’ll be gone for several months. James is still on his honeymoon; Cole sucks at kickboxing; Jack would kill your clients, not to mention he seems to have gone under, because he’s nowhere to be found, so I’ve talked with Zack, and he’s agreed to take over my kickboxing classes. If it’s okay with you.”

“Of course.” Zack was one of James’s partners in his security firm. A solid guy.

“Once James and Tate get back, I’m sure James will pitch in.”

“How are they doing in Italy?” Mike asked as he watched Kyra and Sam dancing.

“Great. Tate has sent some pics. James is grinning like a damn fool in all of them.”

“Good.” He had been grinning like a fool before leaving.

“Much like you’re grinning now too,” Max added and then pointed at Kyra and Sam. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. He knew what he wanted to be going on; he was just afraid to put it in words and find out it was all a dream that would disintegrate as soon as he tried to pin it down. Because what were the chances a first-class dancer like Kyra would stay with him in Alden? She’d had to make that choice seven years ago. Mike hadn’t come out on top.

“Well, whatever it is, you seem much happier with them than when you were with Melanie.”

“Melanie was what I thought I wanted. Kyra is what I need.” What he’d always needed. And it might kill him when she left, when they both left, but he was going to hang on to this dream for as long as possible and worry about that later.

Not that he was going to explain all this to Max. Or to anyone, for that matter. He got cold shivers when he thought about it.

“Her shoulder seems totally healed,” Max mused as Kyra lifted her arms while dancing and twirling around with Sam.

Mike nodded. It was. Soon she would be able to take up any job offer she got. And she would be getting them, no doubt about it. Alden was too small for her. He and his life were too small for her.

“What was up with it; did you find out?” Max continued.

“Injury,” he answered, uneasy. “Stop ogling her.”

Max broke into laughter. “What you mean stop ogling her? She’s covered in foam. Can’t see shit.”

“Keep it like that, then,” Mike grumbled.

“You have it so fucking bad.”

“Now you noticed?”

The snort was loud. “Nope. I just figured now that you seem more calmed, you wouldn’t beat me to a pulp for bringing it up.”

At that very moment Sam, all covered in foam, came running, yelling his name, and threw herself at him. He lifted her, and she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. “Let’s go make pizza. Hi, Max.”

“Hi, sweetie,” Max greeted.

“We’re done here, baby girl?” Mike asked.

“Yes. Mom may need a bit of help. Her shoes are slippery. Foam got in.”

He turned to see Kyra struggling to keep her balance around the bouncing kids. If one took into consideration the big mountain of foam on her head, she was a good foot taller than when she arrived at the park. The foam-cannon guy had really used her for target practice.

“Hold on tight. Let’s go get your mom.” He strode to Kyra, and holding Sam on one hip, he threw Kyra over his shoulder.

She shrieked. Sam laughed.

“Mom is going to be mad,” Sam whispered to him.

He winked at the girl. “Well, wait until we hose her down.”

Kyra, trying to shake the foam from herself and slapping at his ass, sputtered something else about kicking his butt, but he ignored it.

They were quite close to Kyra’s place, which was a blessing, because no way in hell was he getting them into his truck. And he was pretty sure he didn’t fit inside her Fiat. Although if there was ever a time to test that premise, it was today. He was so slippery with soap, there was a good chance if he got stuck inside that egg from hell, the firefighters should be able to slide him out.

He didn’t put down either of his girls until they reached Kyra’s lawn. Then Sam jumped from his arms and ran for the hose. By the time he had Kyra on her feet, helping her get her hair out of her face, Sam was spraying them both with water, laughing her pretty head off, before turning it on herself.

“Don’t you dare. The water’s freezing,” Kyra warned Mike as he grabbed the other hose and directed it to her. She tried to make a dash for it, but he got her good.

Putting her hands in front to stop the spray, Kyra took the hose her daughter was now offering and went after him. The water war continued long after the last speck of foam had been removed.

“Josh!” Sam screamed. “Mom, Josh is here.”

Mike turned toward the girl. A guy he recognized as the Amantis lead guitarist was smiling at them from behind the fence, kicking the stand of a Harley. From the Hummer nearby a petite blonde was emerging. Alexa, and behind her was a huge mountain of a man with half his face tattooed, Maori style. Alexa’s bodyguard and husband.

Mike stilled. Reality had come calling faster than he would have thought.

“Where’s Tony?” Sam asked, looking around. Mike figured she was asking about Alexa’s son.

“He wanted to come, but he’s with the flu, sweetie.”

Sam pouted.

“Guys! What are you doing here?” Kyra asked, rushing to them, a big, surprised smile on her face.

“We came to visit our parents in Boston, so we thought to check on you,” Josh answered.

“Sure. Come in,” she said, hugging Alexa and then turning to Josh.

Mike looked at Kyra and tensed. Her short skirt rode very high on her thighs. Her white blouse was see-through and stuck to her flesh, showing off all her curves. He could see her puckered, tight nipples through her bra.

He grabbed her and, placing his arms around her chest, covered her. “Blondie, we need to get you a towel,” he whispered into her ear, his eyes hard on Josh, who, with a cocked brow, seemed to be extremely amused. Still, he must have read Mike’s body language, because he kept his gaze on her face.

Sam saved the situation by coming and taking Alexa’s and Josh’s hands, started pulling them in. “Come on. You too, Wata,” she said, turning to the massive guy with the face tattoo. “Today is pizza day.”

Wata and Josh both faltered, grimaces on their faces.

“Mike gets to choose the ingredients this time. I traded it for the right to pick the movie.”

“Thank fucking God,” Mike heard both of them murmuring.

* * * *

“What can you tell me about Drake?” Mike asked the men as they sat in the yard alone.

Wata and Josh glanced at each other, as if assessing how much to tell.

“I know the bastard is responsible for Kyra’s arrest and imprisonment.”

“She told you?” Josh asked.

Mike nodded, trying not to get angry at the surprise on Josh’s face. “Any clue what the bastard is up to now?”

Mike had already spoken with Frank Zaba, the detective in charge of the case. Frank had told him he personally never believed Kyra had anything to do with the drugs, but they had had nothing tangible against Drake, and she’d been the one in possession. They also believed that once Kyra was facing hard time, her husband would have stepped up and taken responsibility, but he never did.

Wata spoke for the first time, his voice a low rumble. “He’s on the move, traveling back and forth to LA, walking a very dangerous line with Bandana, a major drug lord from the West Coast. We found out Drake had been using his position as chief of security in the
Summit
for drug smuggling for years, until he decided to graduate to the big leagues. Never mind how hefty a figure he got paid for looking the other way and bringing in the drugs, the real money to be made is in the States; that’s where the dope is worth millions. That’s when he went from smuggler to importer. That’s why he got involved with Bandana a couple of years ago. Drake needed Bandana’s infrastructure here; Bandana needed a steady, cheaper supply of dope. Drake wanted to use the touring to move the product and feel up the territory.”

Mike looked Wata straight in the eye and said, “And you took him into your security detail?”

“We didn’t know any of that,” Josh interrupted.

“My wife hired him when Kyra asked her to, and we never checked his background in any depth aside from confirming his employment at the cruise company, where he had an impeccable record. He was assigned to security matters not dealing directly with Alexa and the other musicians, so it was up to one of my security chiefs to supervise him. By the time we realized something was very wrong and we were putting the pieces together, the police showed up, and the shit hit the fan.”

“We had him on payroll to protect Sam, and then we lost track of him.”

“Zaba believes Bandana and Drake are clashing,” Mike said.

Wata nodded. “That’s the word on the street. Drake was bound to try stepping into the drug lord’s shoes. Drake’s not the sharing type. He will want to take over.”

As far as Mike was concerned, Bandana could have at Drake. No one would miss such a piece of shit.

At that moment Sam came out and interrupted them. “Mom asks if you want beer or lemonade.”

“Beer,” Josh answered.

“Mom said you would, right, Mom?” Sam asked, looking to the kitchen window. Kyra smiled.

Wata stood and went in with Sam.

Mike studied Josh’s face while the guitarist was looking at Kyra. “You want her.”

Josh turned to him. “Of course I want her. I’ve wanted her since the second I saw her. Then I got to know her, and well, it’s impossible to be around Kyra and not develop feelings for her.”

Mike felt like punching the living shit out of the asshole but locked his jaw and prayed for calmness.

“She was off-limits, though,” Josh added. “And I’m nobody’s second choice.”

Mike had seen Josh in the tabloids many times. With a different woman each time. “Why? You draw the line at married women?” Because he somehow doubted it.

“No, you moron. But I would have wanted more than sex, and she couldn’t give me what she had given to you already.”

* * * *

Kyra followed Mike as he carried a totally exhausted Sam to bed. After having the time of her life at the foam party and then spending the rest of the day playing, eating pizza, and watching movies, she’d crashed and fallen asleep a bit before their guests had left and hadn’t woken up when Mike picked her up to get her to bed. After tucking Sam in, Mike dragged Kyra to her bedroom.