Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3) (12 page)

I WIPED MY HANDS
and headed for the water cooler. I punched the blue button over the plastic cup, grabbed it, and gulped at the icy water.

I’d been in a snarly mood all morning at work. I’d growled at everything from the coffeemaker to Dawes, who’d only been trying to help me with this old Dyna I’d been working on.

Since Lock opened Eagle Wings, he had me run bike service and repair and oversee special builds. I’d always been satisfied doing repair and leaving it at that, but the kid had insisted. I stepped up and made sure our shop ran like clockwork. I hated backlog, especially when Lock’s custom-detailing crew was waiting to get their hands on the bike.

Fuck it.

I was toast. Burnt toast, charred on both sides.

“You need something stronger maybe?” Butler poured himself a cup of water.

I tossed a hand in the air. “The rust on that bike is unbelievable. The idiot should’ve kept it under a tarp and in good storage, not under a heap of garbage.”

“Well, that’s what they pay us for.”

“Yeah, that they do.”

“Speaking of which, is that Dig’s Camaro in the new storage shed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You still got it.”

I pushed at the cold water button again. “’Course I do.”

“Can I take a look under the hood? From what I saw, you’ve kept it in prime shape all these years. There’s no reason why—”

“No.”

Butler’s neck stiffened. “Bro, I’m the one who used to work on it for him when he couldn’t. Let’s me see if—”

“I said no,” my voice snapped.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Tania said from the doorway leading to the storage units.

Butler’s eyes landed on her. “You’re not interrupting.”

She glanced at him and took a step back. “I’m in a bit of a bind, and I was hoping someone could help me.”

“What do you need?” Butler tossed his cup into the garbage can.

“I have an appointment with someone on Skype in ten minutes, and I can’t miss it,” she said. “But I forgot to pick up these two prescriptions for my mom at the pharmacy, and she’s going to need them in a few hours. My sister’s out of town today, and Jill’s in Rapid with Becca, and her phone must have died because I can’t seem to reach her. Do you think you could send someone to pick up the prescriptions and bring them to the house? I’ll call my mom and the pharmacy and let them know. I’ll make it up to whoever the lucky dog is with plenty of pizza and beer, I swear.”

“Sure thing,” said Butler.

I pitched my empty cup in the trash. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Are you sure?” Tania said. “You’re working. I don’t want to interrupt—”

“I need a break.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s me.” I undid my jumpsuit.

More like addicted, obsessed, crazy, a masochist
.

Twenty-five minutes later, I knocked on Rae’s door. Jill swung it open, the house phone at the side of her face, her mouth set in a hard line, reddish-blonde curls in her eyes. She waved me inside the house, putting a finger to her lips, and then she pointed to the playpen in the living room. I gently closed the door behind me.

“Yes. Okay.” A hostile, seething tone in her low voice caught my attention.

“Okay, I said!” She charged into the kitchen, and she spewed out more tight words. She was pissed.

I snuck a peek into the playpen. Becca was sleeping on her stomach, her mouth open, one hand clutching the baby doll I’d bought for her. A pinch twisted in my chest.

I headed for the kitchen. Jill slammed the phone on the counter, her face screwed up into a knot.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Oh, the usual.”

“What’s that exactly?”

“That was Catch on the phone. He hasn’t been up here to see Becca or his mom for a long time now, over two months. Personally, I don’t mind, but Rae does. He’s her son. This is so typical of him, but it really makes me mad after all the crap he laid on me about me leaving him and moving up here and…” She averted her gaze, shaking her head.

“And, what?”

“Me hanging out with the One-Eyed Jacks.”

“It’s not like you’re some groupie, for fuck’s sake. You don’t even hang out. You drop by or—”

“I know, but he’s still all possessive.” She crossed her eyes.

“Yeah, okay. I get that.”

“Well, I don’t get it!” She planted her hands on the counter. “And I’m sick of it. It’s okay for him to blow his daughter off, saying she’s too young to realize anyhow. He’s blowing his mom off, too, when he does that. Boner, the disappointment on her face this morning! Even Tania, Ms. Tough, was disappointed. She plays it like she’s accepted his douche bag ways, no big deal, but I know she keeps hoping for the best each time. He’s being so unfair. I’m sure he’s doing it on purpose to get back at me, but the thing is, I don’t give a shit, not for me.
They
care though,
his family,
and they certainly don’t deserve it.”

“He’s an asshole, Jill. Nothing much you can do about it.” I touched her arm, and our eyes met.

Yesterday, her grayish-blue eyes had been soft and vulnerable, but now, they were more like steel in the sunlight that was filling the kitchen with early evening gold. It took my breath away.

I raised the small white bag with the Meager Grand Cafe logo on it. “Maybe you need a double creamy mocha thingy to make you feel better?”

“A mocha thingy?” She grinned. I’d made her day. “Decaf?”

“Of course, decaf.” I handed her the bag, and she quickly uncurled the top.

“Of course,” Jill murmured. She chewed on her lips staring into the bag. “Thank you.”

“Rae’s prescriptions are here.” I tossed two stapled bags from Walgreens on the counter. “Tania had a meeting and got stuck and—”

“Thank you. I was in Rapid at a Mommy and Me class with Becca and my battery died—”

“No problem, and this is for Becca.” I put another Walgreens bag on the counter.

One of those huge smiles of hers broke over her face. “What did you get her now?” She opened the bag. “A tea set?” She took it out of the bag and removed the plastic cups, saucers, and teapot from the packaging. “Oh my gosh, she’s going to love it. Thank you. I’ll wash it and have it ready for her.”

I leaned over the counter as she popped a straw through the iced coffee and drew on her liquid paradise. Her pouty lips rolled as she swirled the coffee in that mouth of hers.

“God, that’s good.” She licked her lips.

I stared at her, my nerves popping off one by one like a well-timed firework display.

Her eyes found mine. “You didn’t have to come over, Boner.”

Oh, yes, I fucking did.

“I needed a break from work.”

“Thank you—for everything.” Her hand made a sweeping gesture over the prescriptions and the toys lying on the counter.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“You hate it when I say thank you, don’t you?” Laughing, she moved next to me and leaned in close, standing on her toes. A haze of coffee and chocolate rose between us. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

She planted a kiss on the side of my face, and I let out a muffled grunt.

She settled back down on her heels, our eyes locked on each other’s.

My breathing suddenly hit fifth gear. I liked her close. I wanted her closer.

My fingers cupped her face.
So soft, so—

“Boner,” she breathed, a hand clutching my side.

That urgent whisper, her tugging on my shirt. I grabbed the coffee from her hand, and it hit the counter with a
plonk
. I crashed my mouth onto hers, my tongue invading. Sweet coffee, icy cold and wet hot. Her tongue lashed against mine, and she wrapped her arms around my middle, pressing against me.

Jill.

I devoured, I tasted, I took, and she was the victor.

I lifted her onto the counter, and she let out a tiny gasp. The cotton fabric of her skirt was a pathetic barrier to the storm raging between us.

My forehead slid against hers. “Rae here?” I whispered against her mouth, my fingers smoothing down her throat, across her chest.

Her flesh trembled under my touch.

“She’s next door.”

My hand tucked under her skirt, sliding up a smooth bare thigh. She immediately parted her legs for me. My fingers brushed past the damp fabric at her center, pulling it out of my way, as her body quivered in my hold.

“Yes,” she cried out.

With that cry, she gave me a piece of herself that I didn’t want to let go of, only wanted more of.

My knuckles brushed her wet heat once, twice, my pulse spinning out of control. Two of my fingers nestled around the lushness of her clit and stroked.

I groaned. “Fuck.”

Clutching my arms, she let out a low moan, and I swallowed it with my mouth as I gently stroked her. Her eyelids sank closed. I gripped her other thigh with my free hand, and she arched her back. Her eyes opened and melted with mine, her fingers digging into my sides.

Those stormy blue eyes begged, pleaded, demanded.

I’ll give it to you. Fuck, I’ll give it all to you.

My thumb circled her stiff clit, and she let out another moan, which shuddered right through me.

“You like me touching you, Jillee?” I slid two fingers inside her silky heat.

Fuck, yes.

Her body tightened around mine, small cries slipping from her quivering lips.

I nipped her bottom lip with my teeth. “You like me inside your cunt, baby?”

“Ma! Ma! Ma!” Becca shouted from the living room.

We froze. A toy squawked and honked in the distance, and Becca cried out again.

Jill buried her face in my shoulder, her breathing ragged, her body trembling. I held her tight against the painful crash of being denied.

What the fuck are we doing again?

I let go of her and stepped back. She licked her lips, her face blooming in different shades of pink and red.

“I’ll get her.” I washed my hands at the sink as she smoothed her skirt down over her bare legs.

Those legs.

Those legs wrapping around me while I’m pounding into her. Those legs jacking up over my shoulders while I bury my face in her—

“
Ma
!”

I charged into the living room, and there was Becca—face wet and red, punching her feet into the floor of her playpen, arms stretched ferociously over the railing. I followed her line of sight to where her pony lay on the floor. I picked it up and brought it to her. Her knees bent and popped up as she shook the whole playpen.

“Here he is, Becs. Mr. Pony is back.”

Her blue eyes widened like little full moons. Her mother’s eyes. Eyes I had just now gotten lost in, melted in for a stolen split moment in time.

Stolen is right.

“Bo-Bo!” She raised her arms at me.

My chest squeezed.

“Bo-Bo!” she repeated, her lips pouting.

“You want me to pick you up? Okay.” My hands grabbed on to her sides, and I lifted her high in the air, her legs and arms stretching.

My muscles stiffened as I waited for tears, panic.

She burst out laughing.

I gathered her back into my arms, a hand at her back, another under her rear end. “That’s me. I’m your Bo.”

She chattered to herself as she fluffed out strands of my hair and tugged on it, wrapping her fists in it. Becca took her other thumb in her mouth, slobber sliding out of the corner, and sank her head against my chest.

“Let’s find Mommy, huh?”

We turned around, and there stood Jill, watching us, her cheeks pink, those beautiful eyes of hers soft, hair mussed. I had done that to her, and my chest surged with heat all over again.

Her lips pulled together. “You awake, honeybunch?”

“She threw the pony, and then she wanted it back.”

“She does that all the time.” Jill tucked a finger in Becca’s diaper. “Still dry. You want some juice, sweets? I’ll get you some juice, okay?”

Jill went back into the kitchen and came back with a spill proof plastic tumbler with a thick straw sticking out of it. Becca almost launched from my arms at the sight.

“Put her back in the playpen, and I’ll give her the sippy cup.”

I put Becca back in. She grabbed the brightly colored sippy cup from her mother’s hands and drank as she swiveled on her hips. The sweet scent of apple juice rose in the air. Her entire being was about consuming that juice.