His eyebrows rose in surprise as his gaze raked over my body, and there was no mistaking his interest. Score. “You’re asking me out?”
“Yes. To my sister’s wedding.”
“To a wedding?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit. You don’t fuck around. Look, miss…”
“Julia. Julia Edwards.”
“Julia.” He said my name like a treat he was tasting for the first time. “You’re an attractive woman. I’m sure you’d have no trouble finding a date and you don’t know shit about me. And I’m not stupid.” He checked out the shelf and selected a small, no nonsense guide about gardening. “I know how to find a book. I’m also familiar with the internet. I just stopped by here because it was on the way home and I try to support local businesses, so why are you trying to play me like I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground? What’s really going on with this wedding?”
More lies flooded my mind. I could have employed flattery, flirted for all I was worth, or bribed him to do it, but I was rusty, and Havoc had already seen through my bullshit. He was a down-to-earth good guy, and he deserved an honest answer. “Because, you’re a helper of Seattle and I need help. I need… protection.”
Havoc
ICOULDN’T SEEM to wrap my mind around what the fuck was going on. The hot, curvy redhead with porcelain skin and big green eyes had been checking me out and flirting with me since I’d walked into her bookstore. Not that I minded her attention. Not in the least. In fact, the way her eyes darkened every time her gaze went to my chest and arms was downright ego boosting. She walked past me, and a sweet, soft scent caught my attention. The broad smelled incredible.
While following her to the correct section of the bookstore, I got an eyeful of her round, juicy ass. She had one of those natural, perfect hourglass figures, heavy on the top, heavy on the bottom, and the kind of shapely legs that were no stranger to the gym. Just thinking about the things I could do to that body was making my pants uncomfortable. I adjusted myself and tried to pay attention to the big ass books she kept piling on top of the bookshelf.
I knew she was up to something, but damn, I had not been prepared for what she wanted from me. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t opposed to dating her—hell, I’d be all over that—but to a wedding? What kind of broad tried to trick a perfect stranger into going to a wedding with her? The crazy kind. I took a step back, knowing I should get the fuck out of there, but her eyes… those goddamn green headlamps glowed with so much pain and desperation I was having a hard time walking away from her.
“I need… protection,” she said, sounding desperate and scared.
Those were the magic words. They made the hair on the back of my neck stand up and my feet stick to the ground. I couldn’t go anywhere until I found out what was happening and made sure she was safe. Link has called me a sucker for a sob story, and goddammit, I know he’s right. Especially when that sob story comes with a nice rack and a round ass.
“Is someone trying to hurt you?” I asked. I didn’t put up with men roughing up women. Never have, never would. If some asshole thinks he’s big enough to slap around a girl, he should be big enough to take me on. And I’d be more than happy to let him try.
“Not physically.” She took a deep breath, and her big tits bounced as she let it out. “My little sister’s getting married and my ex will be there with his flavor of the week.”
Sounded like the kind of drama I didn’t need in my life. Still, she was sexy as fuck and flashing me all good signs, and everyone knew that weddings made bitches horny. Yes, my mind went there as my gaze drifted back down to her tits. What could I say? I’m a man, and she had the type of body that made smart men do stupid shit.
Also, she’d asked for my help. Not like I thought I was some sort of hero. No, my problem was the opposite. I’d destroyed so much in my life that helping people gave me the chance to balance the scales a little. A shot to make right on somebody else’s wrongs. So, I decided to feel out the situation and figure out if I could handle her level of crazy. “Your ex is going to your sister’s wedding?”
“Our parents are good friends and business partners. They’re extremely successful and wealthy. They don’t let little things like the comfort or happiness of their children stand in the way of business dealings and public impressions.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Power comes with an expensive price tag. You must bid high and be willing to sell everything to make the payment. That’s what makes it so appealing.” The smile she shot me was self-deprecating, and I could tell the shit she was spewing had been spoon-fed to her. Her demons were strong and had probably been there most of her life. But she was smart, and a fighter. I could help a smart fighter.
“And you’re afraid of your ex?” I asked.
“No. Oh, hell no.” She chortled. “I’m afraid of me. I don’t need your protection from Wesley. I need you to protect him from me. No, it’s more than that. I need you to contain me. To keep me from reverting to my old self.”
This was getting interesting. “What do you mean?”
“Wesley is weak. Stupid.” Her face twisted in disgust. “I could ruin him. I could ruin most of them if they pushed me too far. But I don’t want to be that person anymore. I need someone with me who’s big, strong, and smart enough to keep the power-hungry bitch inside of me and off the playground. I read that you used to be in the Special Forces, so I know you’re smart and strong.” I eyed him up and down. “And you’re obviously big.”
“Yet you tried to pull that shit with the books on me.”
“And you called me on it,” she said. “Which means I won’t be able to manipulate you. I need that. I’m trying really hard to be a decent human being and leave my past behind me, but this wedding will threaten my resolve.”
“Where and when is the wedding?”
“This coming Saturday at three p.m. at the Shoreline Country Club on Bainbridge Island.”
Ritzy place. Julia wasn’t playing when she said her parents were loaded.
“I know it’s short notice and I’m sorry.” She winced. “It’s a suit and tie event, so no bikes. But we could take my Mercedes.”
Her assumption that I only had a bike rubbed me wrong. Sure, I wouldn’t be hosting any parties on Bainbridge Island, but I did all right for myself. I had a house and a yard to keep up. Couldn’t exactly put lumber and a lawn mower on the back of my Fatboy. And even if I didn’t have some sort of cage, I’d rent one. No way in hell I’d let her drive me to a wedding of rich white people. Be the black man in the passenger’s seat? Fuck that.
