Tank (Blue-Collar Billionaires #1) (11 page)

“Of course not. I think your mom will be really happy to have both of you there. What’s he like? Your brother, I mean.”

He glances at me and his lips tighten. “Never mind. I’m definitely not inviting him. He’ll spend the entire night hitting on you and then I’ll have to pound my own brother.”

Heat spreads through me at his possessive statement. After our disastrous beach date, I figured he wasn’t interested anymore. I definitely wouldn’t have expected him to be jealous at the idea of his brother hitting on me. Why would he even care?

“I’m sure he won’t even notice me. Ivy’s the one who has men panting after her everywhere she goes.”

His gaze holds mine. “You have men panting. If you don’t know that, then you aren’t paying attention.”

I suck in a breath as his breath washes over my face. His eyes drop to my lips as he gets closer. Is he going to kiss me now? I lick my lips and his eyes immediately go to my mouth. Then he leans closer and grabs the helmet from my hands. He sits back, looking all together too satisfied considering that he’s gotten me all riled up. Then it dawns on me that he’s playing with me.
 

I adjust my bag and start walking up the driveway. When I turn around, he’s still watching me with a small smile.

“What?”
 

That smug smile gets even wider. “Nothing. I told you I’d get you to dinner one of these days.”

Then he starts the engine, drowning out any reply I would have made, and pulls off leaving me staring after him.
 

The next day, I’m completely distracted. Even Mr. Stevens notices when I call one of his longtime clients by the wrong name. Luckily we’re so busy today that I don’t have time to brood. Tank called this morning and offered me a ride to work but luckily Ivy was home. Seeing him first thing in the morning would have been too much. I need time to think without him there clouding my mind.

 
I only get out of the office to pick up a deli sandwich for Mr. Stevens. I don’t eat my own lunch until after three o’clock, a ham and cheese sandwich I threw together on the way out the door this morning.
 

When I take a bite, I discover that I didn’t put any mustard on the bread. I let out a disgusted sigh.

“I know that sound. Dating trouble?” Mr. Stevens puts a file on my desk and then leans against the wall.
 

“Not really. We’re not really dating.” I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He looks like a lawyer with his standard blue suit, red tie and strong jaw line. If his brown hair wasn’t thinning in the front, he’d look like an actor playing a lawyer on a crime drama.
 
He’s always come across as logical, objective and fair. He’s the perfect person to ask for an impartial opinion about Tank. As far as I know, they don’t know each other outside of their professional relationship.

“It’s about Tank Marshall. I went on a date with him. And it was nice. Strange but nice. But I don’t have a lot of experience dating. You’ve been working with him for a while now. Does he come across as a decent guy to you?”

Patrick looks uneasy. “Look, kiddo. I can’t divulge information about my clients. You know that. But that family … just watch yourself, Emma. You’ve had a rough year and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Of course. Thanks, Mr. Stevens.”

He nods and then disappears back into his office.
Well, that tells me absolutely nothing.
Since Patrick can’t tell me anything and I have nothing else to go on, I’ll have to use my own judgment here. What’s the big deal? I’m just supposed to be friendly to the guy and then put in a good word for his dad. I shouldn’t have to know his entire background to do that. But as I pack my things to leave for the day, I know I’m just fooling myself. I want to know more about Tank for reasons that have nothing to do with Maxwell Marshall or his insane job offer.

I want to know him because I’m attracted to him. Which is the number one reason I need to stay far away.

As if my thoughts have conjured him, Tank comes through the door at five minutes before closing time. He’s wearing the same beat-up leather jacket he had on a few nights ago at the club. His dark hair is spiked up at the top but not in a
metrosexual I use hair product
kind of way. This looks more like he’s growing out a buzz cut and his hair hasn’t figured out which direction is down yet.

“You don’t have an appointment today.”
 

He acknowledges the observation with a slight nod. “I don’t. I didn’t need all those other appointments either. But I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

A warm tendril of pleasure unfurls inside me at his words. The thought had crossed my mind because he seemed to have more frequent appointments than any of our other clients but to hear him confirm it out loud is unexpected. He’s so …
forward
, sometimes. It’s like he has no fear, of rejection or embarrassment. Then again, considering the things he told me yesterday on our beach date, he’s had far worse to deal with in his life than a girl hurting his feelings.
 

“Maybe. But then maybe you flirt with every girl you meet.”
 

“No. I do a lot of things with you that I don’t do with anyone else.”

“Oh, you aren’t normally a beach-going kind of guy?” I tease. He’d seemed so out of place at the beach, like he wasn’t quite sure how to relax.

“Or an
ask a girl out repeatedly
kind of guy. I just don’t care that much as a general rule.” He tucks his hands in his pockets. “You seem to be the exception.”

“Lucky me.” I gather my things and then slide my arms into my coat. He follows behind me as I walk out of the law office. My car is parked directly in front of the door.
 

“You fixed it already?” I’d spent so much time obsessing over Tank that my car had completely slipped my mind.
 

“It turns out, I know a guy.” He laughs softly and I figure there’s probably way more to that story than I know.
 

“Still, thank you. If I’d had to go to my usual garage it would have taken at least a week before they’d finished with it. And they’d want my life savings and the blood of my future firstborn child.” I pull out my phone to text Ivy that I don’t need a ride anymore.
 

“No sacrificial lamb will be needed this time. Although, I feel bad about how off-track things got yesterday. We were interrupted, and then you end up playing hairdresser for my Mom and cleaning her kitchen. This can’t stay on my record. I need a do-over.”

“Well, the thing is I’m not going home. Today is my day to volunteer at the animal shelter.”

Tank leans closer and my breath seizes in my throat when he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He’s so close that I can see that his eyes are actually a mixture of brown and green.
 

“Can’t you skip today? I really want to spend some time with you, Emma.”

Something clenches deep and low in my belly as his fingers brush over my cheek. I
could
skip going to the shelter but I know they really count on my help. They can’t afford to hire more people due to budget cuts. Blowing it off just to go out with a guy, a guy that I’m not even sure I really like, seems pretty crappy. A hot guy should not trump poor, sweet helpless animals. Although my libido doesn’t seem to agree. There is a completely shameless hussy inside of me that doesn’t care at all about the helpless strays at the shelter. I shake my head and open the driver’s side door of my car.
 

“I can’t. They really need all the help they can get. But wait, you could come with me. We could use the extra set of hands.” I smile pleadingly, hoping that he’ll come. Lusting after him isn’t so bad if he’s using those muscles to help out charity, right?

“I’m not really an animal person.”

“How can you not be an animal person? Animals give love so freely and they don’t hurt anyone. Not like people. Come on. This can be our do-over. What do you say?” I find myself holding my breath waiting for his answer.
 

I want this do-over just as much as he appears to. I can’t ask him more about his relationship with Mr. Marshall without making him defensive. But maybe I can find out how he feels about the rest of his family. Maybe that will give me a clue as to why he’s so against the idea of reconciling with his dad.
 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” Tank walks around the car and gets in the passenger seat. “There won’t be any interruptions this time.”

T
ANK

“So where is this place we’re going?” I’m prepared for the next hour or so to be pure torture. But if dealing with a bunch of pitiful creatures makes Emma more likely to give me another chance then I’ll do it.

“Near the community college. Back when I was in school, one of the guys in my biology class, Brett, mentioned that they needed volunteers. He’s studying to be a veterinarian, too. If I hadn’t had to drop out, we’d probably be in vet school together.”

“Everyone’s life takes a different path. I’m not sure why. Hell, I have absolutely no answers. But your path isn’t wrong, Emma. It’s yours and you’ll make it meaningful and right. Don’t compare yourself to others.”

“You’re completely right. I just need a reminder of that some days.” Emma smiles over at me before turning into the parking lot in front of a small white building.

“The owner, Dr. Kenya Marsh, is really appreciative of all volunteers. This place is exactly what I want to do after I finish school. I want to offer veterinarian services to people who can’t afford it. Dr. Marsh has an open clinic one Saturday per month so that everyone can make sure their animals get preventative care.”
 

We climb out of the car and I follow her into the white building. Emma bypasses the front desk and walks down the hall. I follow since she seems to know where she’s going. We enter a room in the back, filled with metal cages. It smells like pee.
 

Christ, I must really like this girl.

“Hi Brett. How are the babies, today?” Emma asks as she shrugs out of her coat. She hangs it on a peg behind the door so I do the same.

A young man with dark, tightly curled hair turns around. In his arms are two black and white kittens. “Great, I’m just getting some playtime in with Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

Emma accepts one of the kittens and holds it gently in her palms. “Hello, Uno. Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Brett shakes his head. “She can always tell them apart. I don’t know how she does that.”

I watch in amazement as Emma lights up. How wrong I was to think that she never smiles. Obviously I’m just not the right audience. She is wearing the biggest, most beautiful smile right now. When she turns to me, her face bent so she can rub her cheek against the kitten’s soft fur, my heart gives an extra thump.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Huh? Did you say something, Tank?

“Uh, they’re beautiful. The kittens.”

She smiles her agreement and then sits right on the floor and allows the kittens to crawl all over her lap. Brett moves around the room, opening a few other crates and taking out their occupants. Before long the room is a meowing, hissing, purring cacophony of sound.

“Most of the cats don’t get a lot of one-on-one affection. That’s where we come in. I do some chores to help Brett take care of them but also I get to play with them.” She hands me a calico kitten nicknamed “Patches.”

“Wait, what am I supposed to do?” A tickle of panic threatens. I’ve never had a pet. My mom could barely afford to feed us, let alone an animal.
 

“Just give them some love. I’m going to help Brett clean out a few cages.”

Give them some love. Right. Like I know what that means.
 

Emma moves away, chatting easily with Brett. The other man squeezes her arm, his touch lingering a bit longer than necessary. I look down at the calico kitten currently trying to climb the front of my T-shirt.

“This is not going the way I’d hoped, cat. I’m supposed to be charming her, convincing her to give me a chance and now she’s off with that guy and I’m stuck here with you.”

Patches meows plaintively.
 

“It sounds like you agree.” I run a finger experimentally over the kitten’s soft little head. It stretches into the caress. It’s so small it almost looks like a toy. It fits in the palm of my hand. There’s a movement to my right so I turn to see what it is and then immediately jerk backward. A hairless thing stands at my elbow, watching me with narrowed eyes.

“Uh, Emma. What is that?”

She turns to see what I’m talking about. “Oh, that’s Poochie.”

“What’s a poochie? And why is it bald?” The thing blinks at me with huge golden eyes. Now that I’m not so startled it looks less threatening. It’s so ugly it’s almost cute.

“No, that’s her name silly. She’s a cat. A breed called a Sphynx. She’s supposed to be hairless. Unfortunately, her last owner decided she wasn’t cuddly enough and abandoned her outside in the middle of winter. I can’t believe they just left her like that.”

I look back at the cat, now watching me with strangely human eyes. An image comes back to me, watching my dad’s car drive away from the house while my mom sobbed in the background.
 

“I think I know how she feels.” I stretch out my hand, slowly, tentatively. Poochie’s ears flicker but she doesn’t move.

“Oh dude, she never lets anyone pet her. She’s bitten me like five times.” Brett stops when Poochie walks forward, her head bent, and allows me to stroke the top of her head.
 

“Well, I’ll be damned. That mean ass cat finally took a liking to somebody.”

“Tank, can you help me? This one is stuck.” Emma points at one of the cages.
 

I stand carefully and Poochie retreats to the corner of the room. For the next hour, I help Emma and Brett by lifting cages and cleaning. It’s an easy hour, surprisingly. One where I’m not required to think about myself, just what I can do to help out. I’m starting to understand what Emma meant earlier about animals not requiring anything from you other than love. I scratch the kitten Emma’s holding behind the ears. Brett replaces the food and water in the cage we’ve just cleaned out.