Waking Hearts (23 page)

Her heart fluttered. Nothing flowery. No grand declaration. Allie handed him all her crazy, and the quiet man said yep.

Allie tugged gently on his beard and drew him down for another kiss. “Then what kind of fool would I be,” she asked, “to say no to the offer of you?”

Chapter Fourteen

IF THERE WAS ANYTHING THAT could distract Ollie from the memory of the sweet kisses he’d managed to sneak with Allie before she took the kids to the bus stop, it was an ugly biker sitting across from him, giving him news he didn’t want to hear.

“It was a private game,” Tony Razio said. “Guys like me aren’t usually invited to shit like that.”

“It was in Palm Springs.”

“Yeah, but that’s about all I know, man.”

Razio was looking worn, and Ollie wondered if the man was tired or strung out. He gulped the coffee Ollie had set in front of him as he sat at the bar.

Ollie picked up a bar towel and started polishing the pint glasses he pulled out of the washer. “So Russell sits in on this game with four other guys…”

“Fancy game. High stakes,” Razio said. “And then three days later… he’s a ghost.”

“Literally?” Had whoever killed Joe advertised it? It might not be legitimate enough for the police, but Ollie wasn’t the police. If he found out who’d killed Joe, he’d find out how much they knew and then he’d take them out. Ollie knew Joe wouldn’t have started anything, which meant it wasn’t self-defense. Killing his murderer would be justified.

The Campbell clan was old school. An eye for an eye. Sometimes that was how things needed to be done. The justice system had never watched out for black freemen like his ancestor William Allen, so the Campbells and Allens took care of themselves and those who belonged to them. The town of Cambio Springs belonged to them.

“Was someone shooting off their mouth about killing Russell?” Ollie asked again. “If they were—”

“Nothing like that. Just whispers.”

“About?”

Razio squirmed. “About who was at the game. It wasn’t just yuppies with too much money.”

“Who?”

The biker shrugged “Bad dudes, man.”

“No shit.” Ollie crossed his arms and stared at the man. The silent stare was usually pretty effective at making people spill their guts.

Razio was quiet. Then he picked up his coffee cup. Set it down.

“Listen,” he finally said, “if you want my boys looking into this, I need more than just a favor or two. I need to get paid. Asking questions about this guy brings attention we don’t want.”

Bingo.

“What guy?”

The dusky-skinned biker grew a little paler. “They call him Lobo.”

“Lobo?” Ollie rolled his eyes. “Motorcycle clubs and their bullshit nicknames—”

“This guy does not ride. He’s from Mexico. I know he’s got money, but I don’t know how he gets it. Rumors say he’s got cartel backing.”

“Is that so?”

“Rumors.” Razio shrugged. “I don’t know nothing for sure about Lobo.”

Lobo
. Spanish for wolf. It was probably a coincidence. Lobo was the kind of nickname assholes gave themselves when they wanted to seem mysterious. It probably had nothing to do with the shifters in the Springs.

“Razio, someone broke into Russell’s ex-wife’s house last week. In
my
town. You know anything about that? We think they were guys from the city.”

The man looked encouraged. High-stakes poker games were a little above his pay grade, but breaking and entering was right up his alley. “No, but that’s something I can look into. What’d they take?”

“Nothing. Seemed like they were looking for something.”

“Really?” His greedy eyes gleamed.

“Yeah,” Ollie said. “There any word on who took the pot in that game?”

“Nope.”

“So it’s possible Joe Russell took it?”

Razio shrugged. “Anything’s possible.”

“Find out. About the money if you can and about who might have come looking for it.”

The biker stood and finished his coffee. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“And I’ll take care of you. I know it’s more than just asking around.”

“I don’t mind you owing me a favor, Campbell.”

Ollie grunted and returned to polishing glasses as Razio walked toward the door.

“Hey.” The biker turned before he walked back into the heat. “I heard Russell’s wife was a sweet little blonde. Curly hair. Nice ass.”

Ollie stopped polishing and reined in the violent urge to throw the man out the door. “And?”

Razio shrugged. “Thought it sounded a lot like your old lady.”

“Did I give you permission to be curious about my woman?”

Razio laughed. “Nah, man.”

“Then I don’t know why we’re having this conversation, Tony.”

“Yeah, okay.” Razio put on his shades and pulled the door open. It was almost noon, and the late-September sun was already baking the ground. A dust devil kicked up in the parking lot. “I’ll see you, Campbell.”

“You have my number if you find anything. Use it.”

“ALLIE?”

Ollie walked into Allie’s house, trying not to panic about the open front door. It was hot as hell in the sun, but the breeze was probably keeping the house cool. All the windows were open too. She was fine. No one had broken in again. He sniffed the air and looked around.

Allie was still sorting out the wreck of her old house, and he was trying his best not to be a Neanderthal. She’d had to remind him several times that morning that she was a predator herself and perfectly capable of cleaning and sorting the house without a bodyguard.

“Hey!” Allie called from the back. “I’m in my bedroom.”

He closed the front door and walked down the hall, not scenting anything unfamiliar. She’d gotten the kids’ rooms sorted last week with his housekeeper Vicky, but she probably wanted to do her own room by herself.

Walking in, it almost looked back to normal save for the deep rips in the sides of the mattress and the piles of laundry everywhere.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She smiled while she tossed rumpled clothes into different piles. “How was the meeting with the biker dude?”

He sat in the rocking chair in the corner. “He knew about the game, but not much. Gave me a name. Someone I can ask Alex about.” He watched her work. “Do you want to know?”

“The name?” She shrugged. “I don’t think it would mean anything to me, but sure.”

“Lobo. Sound familiar?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Is that a first name or a last name?”

Ollie laughed. “It’s a nickname. Probably someone thought it sounded cool.”

“Like
Oso
?” She winked.

“You can blame my cousins for that one. I did not give myself a nickname.”

“No.” She tossed a pair of her next-to-nothing panties into a pile of lingerie. “Lobo doesn’t sound familiar. And you didn’t need any nicknames to be a badass, Oliver Campbell.”

“I’m not a badass.”

She laughed and untangled a sundress from a pile of stockings. “Right.” With a sharp tug she finally got the dress free and threw it on the bed, only to sigh and cover her face. “I have to wash it all. Even my clothes that were clean. They went through my whole closet. It’s like they touched everything I own, and it feels so gross.” She reached a leg out and stuck her toes in the pile of lingerie. “It’s creepy knowing they pawed through my lingerie. My jeans are bad enough. I’m tempted to throw all my underwear away, but I can’t really afford to buy new ones.”

He slid to the floor. “Don’t do that.” He held up a certain very small pair made of black lace. “I’ve been thinking about some of these for weeks now.”

That made her smile. “I might make you help me hang them again.”

“Fine by me.” He leaned against the dresser. “I’ll put a clothesline in my bedroom.”

That had her blushing bright pink. “So helpful.”

“I live to please.” He eyed her mouth. Her lips were flushed like they had been this morning when he pulled her into his bedroom to steal a kiss before she went to make lunches. “Come here.”

She shook her head. “I’m trying to work.”

“Break time.” He scooted over to her side of the laundry pile and leaned against the bed.

“Ollie…” She sighed.

“Come on now,” he said, pulling her to straddle his lap. “This
is
work. We’re having a conference.”

She laughed and gave in, settling her sweet backside on his lap and putting her hands on his shoulders. “What are we having a conference about, Mr. Campbell?”

“Your underwear.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” He put his hands at her waist and teased the small of her back with his fingers, tugging at the edge of lace he felt beneath her waistband. “I think you need to consider the effect of your underwear on your housemates.”

She nodded solemnly. “Is that why you want me to hang it in your room?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward and nosed at the underside of her chin. “If any of your housemates—”

“You mean my children?”

“Yes, them. If they saw your underwear, they might be scandalized. They’re young and impressionable.”

“So…” She sighed in pleasure and leaned closer to him, pressing her breasts into the solid wall of his chest. “You want me to keep my panties in your room to… protect the children?”

Allie was driving him crazy, but it was the best kind of crazy. Her scent surrounded him, and her fingers played in the curls at the back of his neck. Also, she should always say panties that way, her voice a little breathless and soft. It was really, really hot. His hand slipped lower and he felt satin beneath the lace. He gripped her thigh harder, and her fingers twisted in his hair.

“Love the feeling,” she panted, “of your beard on my neck.”

“Yeah?” He brushed his cheek along her neck and tasted her ear.
It’s gonna feel even better other places, baby.

She groaned. “So much.”

“I love the weight of you on me,” he murmured. “Love holding you.”

“I’m heavy.”

He laughed loud. “Right.”

“I am.”

“Thank God.” He pulled his hand out of the waistband of her panties and grabbed two nice handfuls of her backside. “You were so tiny when you were young, I worried I’d break you. Now you feel just right.”

She froze, her cheek pressed to his temple.

“Allie?” He relaxed his hands and smoothed them up her back. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t tease.”

Her voice was wrong. Ollie grabbed her ponytail and tugged her back so he could see her face.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

She only shook her head. She looked embarrassed, but there was no change in her scent. If anything, the wave of her arousal was even richer. Headier.

“Allie—”

“After Loralie, I mean… I didn’t bounce back, you know? It was easier with the boys, but…”

It took him a second to figure out she was talking about her body. Of all the things to be worried about, he would never have picked that one.

“Darlin’, you’ve had four kids. That’s normal.”

“Joe didn’t like it.”

He buried the flare of anger when a suspicion snuck up on him. “How long’s it been?”

She groaned. “Ollie, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I do.”

She tried to squirm off his lap, but he held her tighter.

“Forget it.” She stopped squirming. “We’re just… You don’t need to know. It’s embarrassing. And nothing to do with us.” She smoothed her hands over his shoulders. “This is you and me. I need to let go of stuff and forget it.”

“And I need to know how long it’s been since you’ve had a man hold you,” he said.

It was true. Fox shifters were highly sensual. It was one of the reasons so many boys selfishly had the hots for Allie in high school. Foxes craved touch and affection. If Joe had denied touch to Allie for his own bullshit reasons, the animal in her would be starving.

“Allie?”

She rolled her eyes back in frustration and clamped them closed. “A few years, okay?”

“
Years
?”

“Yes.”

“When you were still married? You were sleeping in his bed, and he didn’t—”

She pushed his shoulders. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

“Okay.” He brought his knees up, trapping her on his lap. “But I’m not letting you go. Not right now.”

He could tell she was embarrassed and ready to run. Ollie was pretty sure that her running away from him wasn’t really an option anymore.

“I need to get back to work,” she said.

“And I need to take care of you.” He ran a single finger down her throat and delighted in the shiver.

He stood, still holding her tightly. Then he pushed the pile of laundry off the edge of the bed and laid her on it, settling down beside her.
 

Allie’s eyes went wide and her breath came faster. “I thought we were going slow.”