Under Fire (12 page)

She gave him another look.

“Look, he’s good. Like I started to say, I’ve known him a year. Taken him to eat a few times. We talked. I think the reason he’s on the streets is he was abandoned by his family.”

He could see she was thinking about it. “Olivia, I can’t go with you and you can’t go alone.”

“You can’t go with me but you can go out looking for this kid?”

He sighed. “He stays two streets over in an old warehouse.”

“Okay.” She shrugged. “But if he gives me one second of trouble I will ditch him.” She went into the bathroom and opened cabinets and drawers.

“One thing about Mouse,” Rico continued. “He’s never been inside this place. I’ll let him in downstairs but I don’t want him up here.”

“Why not?” she asked, crouching down to search the lower cabinet.

“What are you looking for?” he said from behind her, ignoring her question.

“Shampoo.” She stood, stared at his reflection in the mirror, raising the box in her hand. “What are you doing with all this hair color?”

He flushed red under his tan and took the box from her.

“Prematurely gray. It isn’t a good image for someone in my line of work.”

Rico squatted and his head and shoulders disappeared inside a cabinet. She was still staring when he stood, shampoo in hand. He gave her a kiss and quickly walked away.

“I’m going to find Mouse. Another thing,” he called out as he pounded down the stairs, “he might be kinda smelly.”

Rico paced, sat, checked his cell and the time, and paced again. He’d sent Olivia off with the kid at nine-thirty. It was half past six. They’d agreed to call only in an emergency. Fuck it. He punched in the number of the cell he’d given her then heard the bay door slide open. He flung the cell on the table. About fricking time. Laughter breached the top of the stairs and he realized Olivia and the kid were on their way up.
Damn it!
He’d told the kid not to come to this level. He jumped to his feet, set to chew him out. Mouse cleared the steps loaded with shopping bags and a big-assed smile on his face. With a flourish of his arm and a bow, Mouse announced, “The new and improved Miss Olivia.”

She rose up the stairs like an apparition. Rico stood stone still. He couldn’t believe it. He had no words.

“Say something!”

“Holy shit” was all he could manage.

Olivia looked down at the dress she wore and glanced at Mouse. “I thought I looked pretty good.”

Pretty good?
She looked fantastic. Her hair was now a reddish brown and the curls were gone. It was straight, sleek and sophisticated. Gold hoops swung from her ears. She had makeup on and looked like a model on a photo shoot. But what she was wearing? Holy shit! The dress was tight around her boobs, then flowed loose and was so short it barely covered her ass. He hoped she had panties or something on under there, otherwise, when she sat she’d be doing a Sharon Stone. Now there was an image. Five-inch heels made her legs look like they went on forever. Rico swallowed the lump in his throat and raked a hand through his hair. He could do little more than stare. She stood, legs spread, hands on her hips, looking like the “before they take their clothes off” photo for the Playmate of the Month.

“Well?”

“You look—” he gulped, “—you look…”

“Damn it, Rico. Do I look the part? Yes or no. I toned it down from what you and Mouse—” she glanced at the boy, “—thought I should get.”

He couldn’t stop staring. The transformation was amazing. She went from beautiful woman to spectacular drop-dead show stopper.

“Rico?”

“Yeah. Yes.” He licked his lips. “You look perfect. Amazing.”

“Hey,” Mouse called out. “You have a lot of my stuff.”

Crap.
He’d forgotten the kid was there.

“I thought you’d pitch it. Looks good framed,” Mouse said, roaming the space.

Rico should get him out, but he couldn’t stop staring at Olivia. Something was definitely happening here. He was falling fast for this woman.

“Miss Olivia, show Rico the rest of the stuff you got,” Mouse urged. “The shoes too.”

She smiled and raised one eyebrow. “Wanna see what your money bought?”

“Yeah. Wanna see ’em
on
you.” Her smile turned him inside out. He wanted to put his arms around her and never move.

“Okay. You two either go downstairs or turn your backs.”

The look she gave him heated his blood to boiling and got his dick thinking about jackhammering. He wished she hadn’t brought the kid with her.

“Let’s stay up here,” Mouse said, giving him an elbow in the side.

“We’ll stay here,” Rico said quickly.

Olivia walked to the bathroom and began to shed clothes. Rico turned away. Mouse didn’t. He planted his hands on the kid’s shoulders and twisted him around.

“Man. You better hang on to her,” Mouse whispered. “I ain’t never seen anything that beautiful—or smart.”

Rico caught Mouse trying to sneak a look at Olivia over his shoulder and stopped him with a sound whack to the back of his head.

“That hurt.”

“Try that again and I’ll smack you harder.”

“You can’t blame a guy for trying.” He grinned.

No, you sure as hell can’t.

“You can turn around,” Olivia called out.

The two men turned around. Rico sucked in a loud breath and Mouse said, “What did I tell ya? Come on, tell her how great she looks.”

The red dress was strapless, little more than body paint, and she looked spectacular. Silver jewelry and silver stilettos completed the look. She put her arms up and turned around doing a little dance, wiggling her ass.
Oh, man.
Her ass and legs. He’d turned into an ass man. No, a leg man. Ah, shit. He’d turned into an Olivia man. He loved everything about her.

Love?
He rocked back on his heels. He surprised himself even thinking that word. Could this be what was happening? No.
This
wasn’t anything more than an overload of testosterone and raging sexual desire. Long suppressed needs.

He blew out a loud breath and shook his head. “Wow.” It seemed to be all he could manage.

Olivia walked to them, stopping inches in front of Rico. He wrapped an arm around her waist. She draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning into him. The shoes brought her up close to his height. Her gorgeous, very glossy red lips inches from his.

“Do I look the part?” She lowered her eyelids, put a finger to her mouth and sucked it in.

Ho-lee shit.
“Yeah.” He stepped back from her while he still could.

“These clothes make me feel the part,” she said, sliding her hands down over her hips to her thighs.

“You wanna see the other dresses?” The smoky voice she used would have made a dead man get a stiff dick.

He put his hand on his chest. “I don’t know if my heart can take any more.” It was true. His heart pounded wildly and his breath came in ragged puffs.

“Get a room, you two,” Mouse said.

Without taking his gaze from Olivia, Rico answered, “We have a room, kid, and you’re in it.”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy answered, sheepishly. “I’ll get out of here.” He turned.

Rico grabbed his shirt, holding him in place.

“
You
—aren’t going anyplace. You live here now. I need your help.”

Mouse began to protest.

“I’ll pay. A grand.” He couldn’t risk having the kid slip up and say something about what he’d seen. Until a couple of days ago no one had been inside his place. He wanted to keep what was in here quiet.

“You mean it?” the kid squeaked.

Rico watched Olivia bite her lower lip. Was that disappointment on her face? Did she want him as much as he wanted her?

“Yes.” He released his grip on the kid’s shirt.

“What do you want me to do?”

“First get a shower. You stink. So do the things you’re wearing. Pitch ’em.”

“I don’t have any other clothes.”

Olivia moved away. “Yeah you do.” She went to the shopping bags Mouse dropped on the sofa.

“Here.” She held three bags out. She’s given one of the sales girls a few bucks to pick out some clothes for him. “Some clothes in your size. Pants that fit and aren’t falling off your ass. Some shirts and other stuff.”

“Really? For me?” Mouse took the bags and dug through them. “Everything but shoes,” he said, holding up a bag of underwear. “I don’t wear these.”

“You do when you’re sleeping on my sofa,” Rico responded.

Mouse’s face lit up. A smile spread across his face. “Thanks.” He looked from Rico to Olivia.

Rico thought the kid was going to cry. “Shower,” he said, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. “Now.”

He pulled Olivia to a corner of the room where Mouse couldn’t see them, squeezing her between him and the wall. In seconds her arms were twisted around his neck, her legs climbing his sides. The heat coming from her body set his on fire. His hands cupped her tight ass, raising and lowering her body, grinding her mound against the hard bulge in his shorts. Her panties were hardly more than nothing and his fingers easily slipped to her center. Olivia moaned. This—
they
—was completely out of control and he didn’t care. Screw thinking about the Dolphins losing. He was thinking about screwing
and
scoring right now. In the back of his brain he kept thinking she’d put an end to it. She didn’t. Her hands tangled in his hair driving their lips together with bruising force. His heart slammed harder with each beat. He felt one of her hands drop and her fingers were inside his shorts squeezing hard. This time he moaned.
Step back, man. Step back.

It was useless, he couldn’t. She was a drug and he was addicted to everything about her.

“This shower is great,” Mouse called out.

They froze, staring at each other with sex glazed eyes. The kid’s voice brought them out of a thick fog of lust. Olivia released his hair, and slowly her legs slid down. The last thing he wanted to do was move his body away from her, but he did. Cool air filled the space between them, drawing a gasp from Olivia. He looked down at her hand, still wrapped around his dick, then toward the shower and back at her. She bit her lower lip and let go. They both grinned.

“Change into something I’m not going to want to rip off the second I see you.”

“Don’t have anything like that.” Her warm breath hit his cheek in quick bursts.

“Then put something on that covers your ass. And for God’s sake put on a bra.”

She tilted her head to one side, smiling mischievously.

“The kid’s got eyes too. Go downstairs to change.”

Rico leaned toward Mouse and sniffed. “You smell and look a lot better.” The new clothes made him look like every other kid. Except for the wild red hair.

“Thanks again.” He beamed, smoothing the T-shirt down his skinny belly.

Olivia came up the stairs wearing a pair of his cargo shorts and one of his shirts. His heart jumped. It wasn’t going to make a difference what she wore. He glanced at Mouse. From the way he was looking at her he felt the same way.

“All that shopping made me hungry,” Olivia said, checking out the fridge’s contents.

“Me too,” Mouse chimed in.

“There’s stuff for salad.”

“Yuck,” he cried out. “Don’t you have any steaks?”

“No.” Rico tapped him on the head. “And you’ll get what the lady wants to fix.”

“Oh no.” Olivia turned. “We’re
all
going to fix dinner. Don’t try to make me the cook because I’m the woman.”

“Yeah,” Mouse squeaked, rubbing his head where Rico thumped him.

Rico mouthed
sorry
to Olivia, worried she was pissed. Her smile told him he was forgiven.

She returned to searching the fridge, bringing out pork chops and salad ingredients.

“You know how to cook?” she asked Mouse.

“Not really.”

“Well today is the day you get your first lesson. Come ’ere, put this on.”

“No way! No apron. That’s sissy stuff.”

“You have on new clothes. Put it on.” She held out the apron.

“Whatever,” Mouse mumbled, grudgingly tying it around his waist.

Rico hid a smile behind his hand. Olivia gave him one of her looks.

“You too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Music first. Make it something bouncy.”

Rico turned on his heel, heading for the sound system. He selected Stevie Wonder, The Police and some hip-hop stuff he thought the kid would like. Walking to join them in the kitchen, he watched Olivia instructing Mouse on seasoning the chops.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like that. That’s perfect.”

He grinned at her like she’d just given him a million dollars.

“What do you want me to do?” Rico asked.

“Slice onions and garlic for the chops, then cook them.”

Olivia stood next to the kid, cutting vegetables for a salad. “What’s your real name?”

“Scott.”

Rico stood, dumbfounded. Over the last year he had tried numerous times to get the kid’s real name. He’d always refused to answer. All Olivia had to do was talk soft and smile. Rico wondered if women knew the power a simple smile had over a man.

“Scott’s a nice name. It suits you. Do you want me to call you Mouse or Scott?”

The kid shrugged. “Mouse for now. It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me Scott.”

“How long you been on your own?”

“Left home a couple of weeks after I turned fourteen. Almost two years now. There’s lots of us. Kids come here from all over. We watch out for each other.” He glanced at Rico. “People help.”

“Is it rough?” she asked.

“Sometimes it’s real bad. Sometimes it’s okay.” He shuffled the seasoning bottles on the counter. “I miss…stuff.”

Olivia stopped chopping celery to look at Mouse. He returned her gaze.

“Like what?”

“School. I was pretty good in school.”

She pulled in her lower lip and went back to chopping. “Yeah? So was I. But I had to work damn hard. How ’bout you?”

“Came easy for me.”

“Mouse?” she said in a gentle voice without looking at him. “Why’d you leave home?”

“Parents died when I was ten. Car accident. My aunt got custody of me
and
the insurance money. She didn’t care about me.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Absolutely fucking amazing. In less than five minutes Olivia had gotten all the information Rico had been trying to get for over a year.

“Those chops ready to be cooked?” he asked.

Mouse looked at Olivia and she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Step this way, my man. I’m gonna show ya how to cook ’em.”

Dinner was good. Pork chops, green beans, saffron rice and salad. They cooked six chops. Mouse devoured four of them—and anything else Rico and Olivia didn’t eat. They laughed, talking about anything and everything. Olivia told rescue stories. Mouse was full of questions about flying a helicopter. She answered patiently, not talking down. When he said he didn’t understand she explained until he got it. Several times she used her hands, demonstrating flight maneuvers. Rico stood and picked up the plates.

“Go. Sit,” Olivia ordered. “We’ve got this. You need your rest,” she finished with a wicked smile.

He wasn’t about to argue. He dropped into the big chair, stretching his legs onto the ottoman. Fascinated with their interaction, Rico leaned back, watching.

Olivia was a master at getting Mouse to open up. They talked and laughed easily. When Mouse wasn’t comfortable with the conversation she quickly changed the subject. She was good with kids. Why wasn’t she interested in having her own? Maybe it was the career thing.