Perfect Fit (21 page)

He frowned. “Over there.” He tipped his head toward the back corner from where he’d heard the sound.

Cara sucked in a sharp breath. “He looks just like you,” she said in awe.

Mike nodded, sensing he’d been given a glimpse into what he might look like in twenty or so years, but from the other man’s obvious outgoing personality, that was where the similarities ended. Rex sat in the corner, holding court. There was no other word to describe how people around
him gravitated to the booming laugh and deep voice. He was telling a story, and the people surrounding him seemed to hang on his every word. And by his side was a woman who couldn’t be more than twenty-two if she was that, wearing a tube top with no support for her ample breasts, makeup that had been caked on and bleached blond hair teased high, obviously trying to look older than her very young age.

Mike moved on autopilot. Retaking Cara’s hand because he wasn’t willing to leave her here to be picked up by some douchebag, he moved forward and pushed through the throng of people.

With each step, Rex Bransom’s voice grew louder. “And then I told her, sit back and watch a pro because Rex here’s gonna buy you anything your heart desires. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Nausea swept through Mike. “Is that before you knock her up and leave her high and dry for the next twenty-nine years?” He, who never spoke without deliberation, spewed his deepest thoughts.

Rex paused midgulp and choked on his beer. Dark eyes rose to meet Mike’s, then opened wide in recognition. “Everybody scram.” He waved his hand, and his crowd grumbled but dispersed. All except the woman wrapped around him like a snake.

“You too, baby girl.”

“But Rexie,” she complained, rubbing up against him in an attempt to get him to change his mind and let her stay.

Mike held the other man’s gaze, hoping the hatred he felt was evident because he sure as hell wasn’t holding back.

“Go.” Rex unhooked her arms from around his neck and stood.

With a whine, the woman headed for the bar. “I’ll be waiting right here,” she called back over her shoulder.

Rex didn’t tear his eyes from Mike’s. “Son.”

Mike glanced over his shoulder before looking back at
Rex. “You can’t possibly mean me, because the only man with the right to call me that is Simon Marsden.”

Only the slight tic in one eye betrayed any feeling. “So that’s the way of things.”

“What other way would there be?”

Rex nodded and appeared to eye Mike with newfound respect. “Sit.” He pointed to the chair one of his minions had vacated.

Mike folded his arms across his chest and remained standing.

“Who’s the pretty lady?” Rex’s gaze landed on Cara and stayed too long for Mike’s liking.

“Cara Hartley,” she said, stepping forward.

“She’s not your concern,” Mike said, holding out his arm so she wouldn’t step forward for a handshake or any other contact.

“So you’re not here to make nice, and you’re not here to introduce me to your woman. Why don’t you tell me what’s brought you to my neck of the woods?”

It was time to dive into the reason he’d come, to find out what the hell Rex Bransom had been up to in Serendipity. “Now I think I will sit.” Mike pulled out a chair for Cara before easing himself into a seat beside her.

Rex did the same, settling back into his chair.

“Why the hell are you bothering Ella?” Mike hadn’t planned on saying that either.

Rex blinked, appearing stunned and even a little hurt. “Is that what she said? I’m bothering her?”

A steady throb began in Mike’s left temple. “That’s my interpretation.”

Rex leaned forward.

Mike angled back.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might want to know how my family’s doing?” Rex asked.

Damned if he didn’t sound sincere, and that more than anything made Mike sick to his stomach.

Beside him, Cara let out a small sound of disbelief. Mike ground his back teeth together, as surprised as she was.

“Family doesn’t disappear for decades.” And Mike didn’t want to prolong this agony any more than necessary.

If tortured, he might admit to having been curious about his old man, but as he’d suspected, he didn’t like what he’d found. “I’m here for one reason only. To ask you what you know about money still lying around the evidence room in Serendipity from a case you worked back in 1983. Marked bills ring a bell?” He watched the other man closely, wanting to catch both the shock—which was obvious—and any other emotion that crossed there.

“Is crime down so much in that podunk town that you cops have nothing better to do than chase down old cases?” Rex asked with disdain.

Podunk town? There was no better description to indicate that Rex was happy to have left Serendipity and the people in it behind. And hadn’t Mike felt the same way? And hadn’t he ended up in Atlantic City, a place not too dissimilar to Vegas? Mike had a job. According to his P.I., Rex did occasional work with the local PD. In other words, he was a snitch who got paid for his observations. Mike’s stomach clenched some more.

You traveled all the way here for that?” Before Mike could answer, Rex turned toward the bar. “Sal, get me another scotch. Neat.”

Mike narrowed his gaze. Talking about the family he’d abandoned hadn’t driven Rex to need another drink, but the old case had.

Rex refocused his gaze on Mike. “You got so many questions, why didn’t you just ask the man you call Dad?”

Mike straightened his shoulders. “You mean the one who did your job for you? Who stepped up when you couldn’t be bothered? There’s no way I’m going to upset him now, not with what he’s going through.”

Rex jerked as if Mike had gutted him. “What’s wrong with Simon?” he asked, suddenly sounding as if he cared.

Cara shifted in her seat, and Mike answered before she could offer up anything. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

He hadn’t meant to slip and give Rex any information about his family. “Tell me what you remember, and I’ll get out of here and you’ll never have to see me again. I’m sure that’s what you want anyway.”

Rex scowled, his expression turning dark. “You have no idea what I want. Not now and not back then.” He paused, and the silence between them grew heavy. “Sometimes we do things because we have to. Want has nothing to do with it.”

Mike rolled his eyes. He’d flown cross-country only to have him speak in riddles. If he’d wanted to waste his time, he could have stayed at the casino and dropped money at the tables.

But he’d try one more time. “Money?” he reminded Rex. “Marked bills found in the trunk of a car you stopped for speeding? Does any of this sound familiar?”

Rex slammed a large hand against the table, causing it to shake under the force. “Leave it alone,
son
.”

“And I told you not to call me that.” Just being in Rex Bransom’s presence made Mike feel like a small, unwanted boy. There were too many times he hadn’t appreciated what Simon had done, focusing instead on what this man hadn’t. At the moment, Mike resented the hell out of having had to track him down.

He’d had enough and rose from his seat. “This was a waste of time. Come on,” he said to Cara.

She dutifully rose from her chair, and Mike knew she was doing what he asked in order to make this as easy as possible on him. He appreciated it more than he could express.

To Mike’s surprise, Rex stood as well. “You might not believe this, but it was good to meet you.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Mike muttered.

A flash of pain flickered in eyes similar to Mike’s own before Rex masked it. “Glad you brought your lady. She’s a fine-looking woman. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll never turn my back on the people who mean the most to me.”

He grasped Cara’s hand and walked away without looking back.

Cara felt Mike’s tension and anger vibrating through
him and didn’t know how to ease it. She wasn’t even sure he’d want her to. They returned to the hotel in silence, and she waited until they were alone in the suite.

He stalked over to the bar and poured himself a drink, downing it in one gulp.

“Mike?”

He shook his head. “Not now.”

He was shutting her out. She couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, but she understood. She’d wanted to make the overture and she had, but whether he wanted to talk was up to him. And he clearly did not.

She opened a drawer, pulled out the nightgown she’d brought with her, and walked into the bathroom. After being in the smoky bar, she needed to feel clean before getting into bed.

She stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the luxurious shower. It took her more than a few tries to understand which knobs turned on the overhead spray, but once she managed, the water cascaded down her back, warming her up—at least from the outside. Inside she was cold from Mike’s rejection. No matter how much she got it, she’d made this trip to help him. Once he’d accepted her offer, she hadn’t expected him to turn her away.

As she lathered up with the soap provided by the hotel, which smelled fruity and delicious, she thought about the short meeting with Rex Bransom. The man was more self-contained than Mike. Other than his initial startled surprise at seeing Mike, he hadn’t slipped, hadn’t given anything away. And when he didn’t want to answer, he used Mike’s weak spot—the word
son
—poking at the open wound. No question, the man was a bastard. Her heart broke for Mike, who she was sure was as hurt as he was confused.

She tilted her head up toward the hot water, rinsing the shampoo out of her hair, the spray washing over her like rain. It felt so good, she wondered if she could install this kind of shower in her condo. She laughed at the silly thought.

She heard the creak, and then Mike’s hands gripped her forearms as he pressed his body against hers, his erection solid at her back.

“Forgive me?” he asked, nuzzling his face into her neck.

She sighed, her body softening along with her heart. “There’s nothing to forgive. You needed space.”

“And you always give me what I need. Even if I don’t know what that is myself.” His gruff voice rumbled in her ear.

He hadn’t wanted to talk, but he was obviously happy to forget his troubles inside her body. And she didn’t mind. Sex was what they did best together, was what she could count on from him.

He slid his finger through her slick heat, moisture easing the way for an easy glide. Desire rippled through her and she arched into his hand.

“You’re so wet for me, baby.”

She moaned only to have him stiffen behind her. “Fuck. I can’t believe I call you that. I’ve been calling you that. Hell, I tried to convince you it was okay. Then
he
said it and it sounded so damned demeaning.” His arms were still wrapped tight around her.

Cara sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“From Rex to her? It
was
demeaning. God, Mike, she was all of twenty-one—and that’s if she was even legal! He didn’t care about her. He liked the attention, the idea of a young woman who idolized him and hung on his every word. We both know that’s not how I see you.”

That got a laugh. “No, you don’t automatically do anything I say.”

She grinned. “Independent. That’s me,” she said, before her thoughts sobered.

Mike didn’t know another woman who could make him laugh—during sex or about this whole screwed-up situation.

“Besides, didn’t we already undergo desensitization therapy?” she asked, wriggling her backside against his erection.

She turned to press a kiss against his solid chest. Her soft lips teased his skin, arousing him even more as she continued to explore. She ran her tongue over the flat peaks of his nipples until he let out a harsh groan, and then she nipped harder and he thought he’d come right then.

“Uh-uh.” Her pleasure mattered, not his. He dropped to his knees. He breathed out, teasing her with a rush of air. Her thighs trembled. He placed his lips on her sex, drawing the tight bud into his mouth and suckling hard.

She cried out and thrust her hips forward. Grasping her waist to steady her, he kept up the pressure, knowing exactly what she liked and needed most. He brought her up quickly but didn’t let her climax; instead he released her as soon as she was near, causing her to moan in frustration, to buck her hips and beg for more.

Mike merely chuckled and ran his tongue along her outer lips, teasing her some until she wrapped her fingers in his hair and pulled. “Please,” she begged.

He soothed her with a lick along her slit. Her knees buckled and he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed,
where he laid her down on the thick bedding and eased his body down on top of her.

“Did you really think I’d let you come without me inside you?” He brushed his lips over hers.

She met his gaze, her eyes dilated with pleasure, hazy with desire. “I wasn’t thinking at all.”

He laughed and kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth while savoring the feel of her soft, satiny skin beneath him.

But she was restless and shifted beneath him. “Move, dammit.” She punctuated her order with a squeeze of his butt cheeks.

“Good to know you want me…baby.” He forced the word out of his mouth. No way would he allow his father to control any part of his life, especially this.

Her answering kiss indicated she knew how hard it had been for him and melted more of his heart. Oh hell, she already owned it, he thought, raising his hips and sliding his erection along her damp heat. She shuddered beneath him, as if mini climaxes were racking her body already, and he took advantage, thrusting into her hard and deep.

“Michael,” she said, on a groan, the way he’d come to expect.

“I love it when you say my name like that, when I’m deep inside you.”

A sultry smile lifted her lips.

He pulled out slowly, feeling her clutch around him, then drove back in once more. She raised her knees, pulling him farther into her heat, and he picked up the rhythm, in and out, his sole focus on the intensity of the feelings she inspired. Harder, faster, she met him thrust for thrust, her sexy moans increasing every time their bodies joined.