Rowdy. Jay Crownover
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was looking at me like I was the toy inside a Cracker Jack box. Her dark eyes shone like she had just found something she had been looking for and it was so much better than she imagined it being.
I took a big swallow of beer and told her flatly, “I want to know why you’re in Denver, Salem.”
She picked up her drink, something pink that smelled tangy and sweet, and took a sip. She pushed her heavy fall of hair over her shoulder and I looked down. Yep, Asa had gotten an eyeful. She had on a red lacy top that was cut low over the swells of her breasts and it looked like if she leaned in just the right way, the entire thing would fall down and expose her entire chest. She dressed provocative and alluring, but it was always sophisticated and very pulled together. She really did embody a modern-day Bettie Page.
“I’m here because Phil wanted me here. He knew this was where I was supposed to be if I wanted to be happy.”
I wasn’t expecting that answer, in fact I felt kind of like a dope for thinking she was going to say it had something to do with me being here. The little ding to my ego surprised me and I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
She just shrugged. “It means I’ve moved around a lot since I left Loveless. I never stay in any one place for very long and I’ve never managed to settle. I always thought that meant I was adventurous, that I had the soul of a gypsy, but Phil made me realize that I was always just looking for a safe place to land, a place to call home. I have never had that before.”
“Denver is your safe place? You want this to be home now?”
I got it. I mean, Phil had found me slumming in a disgusting tattoo parlor in Oklahoma apprenticing under a guy that was more interested in running meth out of his shop than tattooing or teaching me how to tattoo. He had a friend of a friend that mentioned me to him, and the fact I was young, really eager to learn, and legitimately loved art. He made a special trip to come see me, and without my knowing how it would play out, Phil Donovan had rescued me, brought me to Denver on his dime, taught me what I needed to know to have a successful career and how to make money off of art. Most importantly Phil had brought me into the fold of his family. Lonely wasn’t easy but I had done it for so long that at first I didn’t recognize what any of it was. Phil made Denver my safe place and my home as well.
She smiled and that sexy-as-hell piercing above her lip winked at me again. Now there was no question things below my belt were getting hard and taking all kind of notice of her against my will.
She told me coyly, “Sort of. My home is a little more complicated than coordinates on a map.”
I was going to ask her what in the hell that meant when the door to the bar opened and a young woman sauntered in. I heard Asa suck in a breath from across the bar and heard Saint call out “Royal” as she waved to the new arrival from where she was still wrapped around Nash by the pool table. The auburn-haired beauty gave a general wave and then glided across the floor like it was her own personal catwalk as she went to join her friend. Just like that, Nash was in the center of a sexy redhead sandwich as the two girls hugged and giggled all around him. Lucky bastard.
“Who? Is? That?”
Asa’s drawl was suddenly tight and thick in a way I had never heard before. His eyes, which were normally all shiny and bright like gold coins, darkened to something intense and intent like I had never seen in him before.
“Royal. She lives across the hall from Nash, and since Saint practically lives with him now, the two of them are inseparable.”
The two redheads were an odd mix and as opposite as two girls could be. Saint was low-key, soft-spoken, and about as humble and sweet as one person could get. She had coppery hair and freckles, so I liked to tease her that she looked like Pippi Longstocking. Royal Hastings had been genetically gifted in every way a young woman could be. She was tall, had perfect skin, cocoa-colored eyes, and auburn hair that went on for days. Her body was the kind of thing I used to think never really existed outside of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, and if all of that wasn’t enough in a supersexy package, she was also really nice, superfunny, and just quirky enough to make her approachable and engaging.
“I want.” Asa’s voice dropped an octave and I saw Salem look back and forth between the two of us. I hated to even think it but it sure ran through my mind that if he set his sights on Royal, that meant I didn’t have to get all queasy and weird about him flirting with Salem so I told him, “Go for it. She’s single.”
His eyes shot back to mine and he scowled. “Why is a chick that smoking hot single?”
In guy speak that totally meant “what is wrong with her?”
I lifted a shoulder and let it fall innocently. “She works a lot and has weird hours, I guess.”
He put his hands on the bar across from me and leaned forward a little. “What does she do?”
That was the tricky part. When I told him what the stunning young woman did for a living, I knew his interest would immediately be dampened. I tossed it around in my head for a second, toying with how to tell him, when Salem suddenly interrupted our back-and-forth banter by stating, “She’s a cop.”
Asa’s eyes bugged out huge in his face and he took a step back from us like the news held an electrical shock.
“How do you know that?” His tone was harsh when he asked her the question.
Salem lifted a bare shoulder and let it fall. I decided I wanted to lick along her entire collarbone and suck on the curve of her shoulder where it met her elegant neck. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be running away from her and the hurt I knew she could inflict.
“She comes into the shop with Nash’s old lady all the time. One time she was in her patrol uniform. I asked her to show me her gun.”
All the color fled out of Asa’s face and he shook his head back and forth like the action would dispel the truth in Salem’s words. Just to drive the point home I nodded and added, “She really is. I didn’t believe it when Nash first told me but it’s true. She even got jumped by a junkie while she was on patrol a little while ago and ended up walking around with a black eye and a busted lip. She carries a badge and enforces the law, my friend.”
He swore under his breath and gave me a lopsided grin. “That should be illegal. No girl that hot should be allowed to protect and serve.”
He wandered away to fix some drinks for Dixie, who was watching the exchange from the end of the bar. When I caught the pretty cocktail server’s eye, she smiled at me and I had to swallow back some beer to avoid the automatic grin back. Flirting with a pretty girl came as naturally as breathing to me, but Salem was watching me carefully with those ebony eyes of hers, and for some reason giving Dixie my I’ll show you a good time grin didn’t really sit right under the scrutiny. She pushed some of her long hair over her shoulder and I watched it slither across her bare skin. Flirting might be second nature to me, but this woman was effortlessly sexy and oozed sensuality like it was an expensive perfume. She was way better at playing this back-and-forth game than I was ever going to be and that was just more reason to keep my distance from her.
“Pretty girls shouldn’t be police officers?” Her tone was a little snide, so I pushed off the bar and inclined my head to where Asa was still talking to Dixie.
“Asa has a long history of being on the wrong side of anyone with a badge. It isn’t her so much as what she does. He isn’t the kind of guy that likes it when a hot girl is off-limits and to him what she does for a living makes her most definitely off-limits.”
She lifted a raven-tinted eyebrow and cast a speculative look between Asa and the striking redhead that had tossed her head back and was laughing loudly at something Saint had said.
“It’s a shame he feels that way. They would make a really beautiful couple.”
Well, that made me feel less like strangling Asa for not only getting an eyeful when Salem had been bent over the bar, but for smiling