Had to Be You: Bad Boys of Red Hook (5 page)

“D.O.G. needs to go out.”

“So, take him out.”

Her hair looked like a rat’s nest—curls stuck straight out from what looked like matted knots.

“I’m not allowed to take D.O.G. out by myself and Pop’s still not up for it. D.O.G.
pulls too hard and it hurts Pop’s chest, and sometimes D.O.G. pulls me right over. I scraped my knee. Wanna see?”

“No.” He was afraid if he’d said yes, the kid would take her pants off or something and the last thing he wanted was for them both to be without pants.

“It’s right under the hole in my jeans here.” The kid lifted her knee to show off her ripped jeans. “Skye put some stuff on it that made the stinging stop. She’s nice.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Mr. Francis came up before he and Ms. Patrice left last night and took D.O.G. for a walk since you weren’t around, but that was hours and hours ago and D.O.G. has to pee.”

Shit, he’d forgotten all about the mutt last night. He’d never had a dog. He knew no more about what to do with a dog than he knew about what to do with a little girl. He did have a very strong suspicion he would no longer be sleeping in the raw.

“I’d have brung you coffee—”

“Brought.”

“Whatever.” Nicki pushed her hair out of her eyes and he looked away. How a ten-year-old, fifty-pound girl could give him the willies he’d never know.

“I would have brought you coffee but I don’t know how you take it.” She shrugged and she and the dog leaned against the bed watching him. “Storm and Logan were always nicer when I waked them up with coffee but Skye’s nice all the time. I guess it depends on the grown-up, huh?” She tilted her head to the left and crossed her bony arms over her chest. “Or is it only boys who are always cranky in the morning?”

“I’m not cranky. Why don’t you and your buddy there get ready to go and let me get dressed.”

“You want me to pour your coffee?”

“Sure. I take it black.”

“Sugar?”

“No, I’m sweet enough as it is.”

The kid actually cracked a smile and let out a little giggle. “Hurry up and get dressed. Maybe we’ll run into Skye and Pepperoni. Then we can take both dogs to the dog park and let them play and you can buy us bagels. Logan always buys us bagels before school. He promised he’d come home, you know.”

“He did?” Slater hoped the kid wouldn’t be disappointed if Logan had a sudden change of plans. After all, it sounded as if he and Skye had some kind of blowup.

“Sure. He loves Skye and Skye loves him so of course he’s coming home. People don’t leave people they love.”

From what Slater had seen, love was temporary at best. Nicki obviously had read one too many fairy tales. What was it with little girls—hell, big girls too—and love? Until last night, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a couple who were really in love.

Nicki worried her lip between her teeth and backed out of his room. D.O.G. eyed him warily and followed her out.

“Nicki, close the door.”

When the door snicked shut, he picked up his jeans off the floor and tugged them on.

If Francis and Patrice weren’t in love, then they had been doing a hell of a job of faking it last night. He’d watched them dance and almost felt like a voyeur. The way they danced and looked at each other made him uncomfortable enough to look away. It was so intimate, so personal, that even though they weren’t doing anything at all sexual, the two of them should have gotten a room. He’d never seen anything like it.

Slater headed to the bathroom with Nicki’s words repeating in his head.
People don’t leave people they love.
He loved his father and his brothers, but he had no problem leaving them. He guessed it would be different if he loved a woman, but since that had never happened, he had to be immune.

He ran his head under the faucet—the only way to deal with his bed head—brushed his teeth, and dragged on a Henley before grabbing his jacket.

Nicki stood by the door holding D.O.G.’s leash in one hand and a travel mug of coffee in the other. “Thanks for taking us out.”

“No problem.” He took a swig of coffee, tapped his back pocket to make sure his wallet was still there, and grabbed the keys. “Let’s go.”

Nicki handed him the leash. “You first, but be careful, he gots to go bad, so he’ll pull you down the steps.”

“Thanks for the warning.” And it was a good thing she’d told him because if she hadn’t, he was sure he’d be on his ass. He hightailed it outside and waited for Nicki while D.O.G. took a leak on the nearest tree.

She shook her head. “Told you he had to pee bad.”

“You sure did.” The rain had stopped and the skies had cleared and it was unseasonably warm. He took off his jacket and asked Nicki, “Why don’t you show me this dog park and the bagel shop? We can let your boy here play and bring back breakfast.”

“Okay.” Nicki grabbed his hand.

He’d never held a little girl’s hand before and he wasn’t sure why he was now, but he didn’t think it would be cool to ask. He didn’t want Nicki to think he didn’t like her.

“I’m not allowed to cross the street without holding a grown-up’s hand.”

Great, he’d better start doing a better job of hiding his discomfort around the kid.

“The park is this way.” Nicki skipped across the street and let him go as soon as she hit the sidewalk. “Bree’s pretty weird about things like crossing the street and she has spies everywhere. It’s just not worth taking a chance on getting caught.”

He figured she was more than old enough to cross the street alone, but then what did he know? All he wanted to do was get the dog walked, buy breakfast, and get home.

Slater watched Nicki and D.O.G. play and wondered if he’d blinked and missed winter. It felt like spring. Nicki had dropped her coat on a bench so Slater picked it up and watched her and D.O.G. race around the park.

He took a deep breath—fresh air filled his lungs, and heightened the sense of expectation. His blood buzzed through his body. It was a perfect day. If the weather report was accurate, the mercury would hit seventy and he wasn’t going to miss his last chance for a comfortable ride.

“Come on, Nicki. Time to go. Patrice is going to pick you up to go to see the Intrepid Sea, Air and Space Museum today.”

Nicki ran all out toward him. He held out a hand and caught her.

“It’s a museum.” She strung the word out like a piece of taffy until it broke. “Do I have to go?”

“The Intrepid is awesome—it’s an Essex class aircraft carrier. You’ll get to check out the whole ship. Plus there’s the space shuttle, and they even have a Russian space capsule. It’s a really cool museum.”

“If you think it’s so great, how come you’re not going?”

Smart-ass kid. “I wasn’t invited.”

Nicki took his hand. “That’s okay. You don’t need an invitation. You can come with us.”

She tugged him toward the gate and he wondered how the hell he’d get out of it. Then he realized he didn’t want to—it would be fun to check out the
Intrepid
, to be on board a ship again, even if it was only a museum. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t go with them and then take off early if he was bored. And Patrice might be happy to have a little help. He didn’t think he could handle watching a three- and five-year-old, but he’d been helping out with Nicki this morning and he hadn’t lost her yet. “How about I take you to Patrice’s house? We can take my bike if it’s okay with Pop, and then we can ask Patrice if she wouldn’t mind me going along.”

Nicki shot him a look that told him she was way too proud of herself. She thought she’d played him like Parcheesi and what the hell, he’d let her bask in the illusion.

Nicki had one hand on D.O.G.’s head while she skipped all the way to the apartment. For once she looked like every other normal kid. The kind of kid with a real family, the kind of kid who never went hungry or wondered when she’d eat again. The kind of kid who knew the meaning of love and trust and security. For just a few minutes, they both could bask in that illusion.

Rocki took the last slug of coffee, stepped up to Patrice and Francis’s house, and let herself in. “Patrice, it’s me.”

Patrice bopped out of the kitchen, and it was a bop, followed by a shimmy, and sometimes a sway—the woman looked like she moved to a Motown beat that played on a continuous loop in her head. She didn’t walk, she didn’t saunter, she did a modified conga.

Patrice wiped her hands on a towel. “I’m just putting together a few snacks for the trip.” She stopped talking, walked up to Rocki, and eyed her new boots. “Uh-huh.” She placed her hands on her hips and struck an irritated pose. “So, girlfriend, what’s the problem?”

Rocki did her best to look bored. “No problem. I just saw these in a window and had to have them.”

“Right. So nothing had you running out for emergency retail therapy? You said you were going to work this morning; that’s why we’re going at noon. You didn’t have time to shop, remember?”

“I didn’t shop.”

“Yeah, so tell me what’s in the bag?”

Shit. Rocki was tempted to hide the bag behind her back but it was already too late. “Just a few ribbons I thought the girls would like for their hair.”

“Hm-hmm, yeah, that’s not shoppin’ all right.”

Rocki let out a breath and prayed for strength. “So, I’m blocked—nothing I wrote worked. I was just making a hash out of the whole piece. I had to get out. Shopping is not a crime. I paid for everything—I even paid way too much for these boots, but you have to admit they’re gorgeous.”

Patrice cocked her hip and looked down her nose. “Girlfriend, you best be careful because you’re in for a shock.”

“I already know what the boots cost me. It’s no longer a shock.”

“That man affects you like the moon affects the tide, and you don’t even know each other—yet. But you will. I have a feeling you definitely will.”

“I will not.” Her retail therapy had served its purpose. She’d hardly thought about Slater since she started. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. She’d thought about him, but she hadn’t pictured him naked—not in the last hour.

“Ha, you didn’t even have to ask what man. You and I both knew who we were talking about. Just sayin’.” Patrice gathered the kids and helped them with their backpacks. She opened the door, ushered them out, and stepped onto the front stoop before looking over her shoulder. “Rocki, are you coming?”

No, but damn, she wanted to. She practiced her deep breathing. Maybe she needed more oxygen to the brain. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

The door closed—yeah, she needed a minute. A minute to finish putting herself together. The kids squealed in the front yard and she knew Nicki must have arrived.

The pumpkin orange boots were drool-worthy but were slouching so she tugged them over the knees of her black skinny jeans. She’d brought her black leather jacket to wear over her long-sleeved T-shirt even though she didn’t need it. It rounded out the outfit, and who knew how long the freakishly warm weather would stick around. She checked her lipstick in the mirror by the door, ran a hand through her hair, making the top stand up, and hoped there’d be a few sailors on board the USS
Intrepid
. Maybe a man in uniform would replace the vision of the one she’d been picturing with and without clothes.

Rocki opened the door, looked out, shook her head, and blinked, hoping the vision in front of her was just the result of her extremely overactive imagination. But this one was different—in this one, Slater was dressed. She rubbed her eyes only to open them and see the very man she’d been trying to erase from her mind since last night. “What are you doing here?”

Nicki bounced beside him. “Slater’s coming with us, but he’s going to have to ride his motorcycle since there’s not enough room in the car. I want to ride with him, but he said no.”

Slater’s eyes traveled the length of Rocki’s body and he took his time, hitting all the highlights, and sending a trail of warmth all the way from her head to her toes. “Nice boots.”

“Thanks.” She hadn’t realized she’d stopped midway down the stoop, so she started walking again. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

“It was a last-minute thing.” His eyes homed in on hers and the quirk of his lips told her he’d planned this. “Nicki wanted me to come, and Patrice was nice enough to include me.”

Patrice stood beside him wearing her
this-is-going-to-be-so-entertaining
grin. “I’ve always found it helpful not to let the kids outnumber the adults. Now we’re even. Since Francis was supposed to go with us before he got called into work, we even have an extra ticket.”

Rocki pasted what she hoped would pass for a smile on her face and did her best to inject cheer into her voice—she never had a problem when she was voice acting, but looking at Slater made her feel anything but cheerful. “Lucky us.” She averted her eyes and walked right past him toward the car.

Rocki held the door open for the girls and couldn’t believe Pete let Nicki ride with him. If Bree found out, there’d be more than one skillet flying.

Patrice buckled Callie in and then looked over the top of the car at Rocki. “He sure looks good straddling that bike.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Rocki got into the car and ignored both Slater’s and Patrice’s annoying laughter. She wanted to strangle Patrice, but she couldn’t do it in front of the kids and Patrice knew it. She’d just avoid him the rest of the day.

Slater started his bike and the purr of the engine slid over her—it wasn’t one of those obnoxiously loud Harleys; it was a either a classic or was made to look like one. It was hard to tell since the bike was in pristine condition. It had beautiful lines and as much charisma as its owner. A powerful machine made for a powerful man. A dangerous combination.

He waved and took off ahead of them. Maybe they’d get there and lose him. Maybe she could just take one of the girls and either take off ahead or lag far behind—anything to avoid spending the day with Slater.

•   •   •

An eternity later, Rocki climbed down the gangplank and held on to Cassie’s hand.

Cassie looked up at Rocki and gave her a smile that matched her momma’s—a little bit sweet, a little bit evil, but Cassie’s evil tendencies weren’t as well developed or effective. Still, at five, the kid was fishing for tasty information. “So what did you learn, Rocki?”

She’d learned that there wasn’t a ship large enough for both her and Slater. But she couldn’t say that. “I learned the
Intrepid
is an aircraft carrier and it’s really long.”

“Mine’s longer. I was on the USS
Ronald Reagan
.” Slater’s breath brushed Rocki’s ear and his deep voice sent her pulse skittering. “I hear size matters.”

They’d been on the ship for a couple hours and every time Rocki turned around, Slater was there. Every passage they went through, Slater helped her over. Every retired sailor they’d met, Slater had made an impression. The whole ex-navy thing must have been tattooed on his forehead in invisible ink seen only by fellow sailors. Maybe it was the ease with which he moved around the ship, or the way he held himself. Whatever it was had all her girly parts standing at attention, and a few even gave him a salute. That was so not good.

Nicki skipped past Rocki on her way to the car, Patrice and Callie followed, and Slater brought up the rear.

Rocki turned to face him and walked backward toward the car. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

A slow half smile came to his lips—as if a full smile would have been just too much trouble. “I was wondering if you were free. I thought we could grab a bite, maybe go for a ride through the park. It’s probably the last nice day we’ll have until spring, and I don’t know about you, but I’d like to enjoy it. What do you say?”

She looked around, not sure how to get out of it, not sure she even wanted to. Okay, she didn’t want to get out of it, but she knew she shouldn’t go. “I don’t have a helmet.”

He pulled one out of the saddlebag and handed it to her. “I have an extra.”

She stared at the helmet, wishing she had the self-control to hand it back to him and get in Patrice’s car.

“I bought it today so Nicki could ride with me.” Slater raised a shoulder and Rocki saw a shadow of the tall, lanky geek Patrice had told her about.

Rocki’s concentration was shattered when Patrice slammed the car door, looked over the roof at her, and waved. “I’ll call you later, Rocki. You two have fun.”

“Wait!” By the time she yelled, Patrice was already driving away. “It looks like I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You could always take the subway home, but it’s a hike to the Port Authority, and my bike is more fun. There’s nothing like the feeling of seventy-five horsepower between your legs.”

She wanted to smack herself—he’d played her like Pavlov played the dogs when he rang the bell. Her conditioned response had her mind going from slightly pissed to over-the-top horny in a nanosecond. The last person she wanted to be horny with was Slater. She stuffed the helmet under her arm, put a hand on her hip, and a
don’t-give-me-shit
cock to her head. “Did you and Patrice have this planned?”

“No.”

She stared into his eyes and knew he wasn’t lying. “Just so you know, this isn’t a date.”

He took the helmet from her and tossed it from one hand to the o
ther like a basketball. “Okay, if it’s not a date, what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

He stepped toward her, placed the helmet with a full face mask on her head, and tightened the chin strap. “That’s good because I’ve been looking forward to doing nothing with you since the first time I saw you.” He flipped the visor down, effectively cutting her off from saying any more. It was a good thing the helmet covered her mouth; she’d hate for him to see her drool.

•   •   •

Slater straddled the bike and held his hand out to help Rocki.

She ignored it, grabbed his shoulder, and threw her leg over.

“Wrap your arms around my waist and hold on.”

“No, thanks. I’ll just hang on to the bars back here.”

“Suit yourself.” He took off, knowing her back would hit the backrest, and her arms flew around his waist before he was out of the parking lot.

“You did that on purpose.”

Damn straight he did. But then there was no reason to tell her she was right. She knew it. “Are you hungry? We could have a picnic in the park.” He took the turn onto Twelfth Avenue a little tight and her arms squeezed his waist, her thighs squeezed his hips, and her breasts flattened against his back.

She didn’t answer but then he didn’t really expect her to. The bike and the beautiful day were working their magic. It’s hard to say no to a longer ride on a perfect day, and with Rocki holding on to him, he was having a hard time seeing anything that wasn’t perfect—well, except for the fact that Rocki really didn’t want to be with him. She wanted on the bike—sure. She wanted to take a ride—hell, yeah. But with him—not so much.

He headed uptown, turned onto Fifty-Eighth Street to Columbus Circle and Central Park West, and wondered how to handle Rocki. And by God, he did want to handle her. He parked the bike, removed his helmet, and offered Rocki a hand.

This time she took it.

He helped Rocki off. “I’m not going to take it personally.”

Rocki tugged at her chin strap. Confusion furred her brow. “Take what personally?” She pulled the helmet off and then raked her hand through her hair until it stood up again.

He looked deep into those eyes he couldn’t get out of his head. “I’m not a threat, Rocki. I don’t want to take over your life. I just wanted to be friends.”

“Friends? That’s why I’m getting the full-court press?”

Leave it to Rocki to put it all out on the line. He thought he was direct. He shrugged. “I want to get to know you.” Oh yeah, and that was the truth; he wanted to know everything about her. What she hid from the world, what she felt like in his arms, the sounds she made when she was excited, and he wanted to see the look on her face when she came. Slater blew out a breath and prayed the tightness in his jeans wasn’t too noticeable. “Unfortunately you won’t give me a break just because I’m Pop’s son.”

He sat on the bike and looked up at her. Damn, even with helmet hair she was gorgeous. Taking a deep breath, Slater swung his leg over and got off the bike, standing so close to her, he saw the flecks of silver in her irises that made her eyes go all soft and gray. He set his helmet on the seat. “If I were anyone else, I have a feeling we’d get along just fine, better than fine.”

“We get along.” Rocki stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans as if she didn’t trust herself not to touch him. He should know since he was doing the same thing.

“Right. But I’m Pop’s son, so that puts me on your do-not-tangle-with list. Even though everything I see tells me you’d like nothing better than to get all tangled up with me.” Her eyes dilated and her breath came out in soft puffs. He stepped closer. “A tangle of tongues, a tangle of arms, a tangle of legs. Yeah, and I want to get all tangled up with you too—temporarily.”

Rocki’s breath shot out of her as if she’d just taken a blow to the diaphragm. Not a good sign.

He took her hand and pointed to a gourmet deli he’d found when he was roaming the city before he’d gotten the guts to go home. “Come on. Let’s get some food, and you can decide what you want. Once you do, I promise I won’t argue.”

She knew what she wanted and Slater knew it was him. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. It showed in the way she breathed a little too heavily, the way her eyes sparkled a little too brightly, the way her face flushed hot. He just hoped she didn’t let her fear get in the way.