“I promise,” I assure her, as Dani lines up a long row of shot glasses along the bar.
The men and women of the Wraiths and Nine crowd against the long wooden bar, each grabbing up a shot of whiskey as Declan calls for their attention.
“Here’s to Caleb Brooks,” he crows, “the newest man of Dante’s Nine, one of the best men I’ve ever met. Welcome to the family, bro!”
Stomping feet and rallying voices fill the already cacophonous space. Someone puts a classic Lynyrd Skynyrd song on the jukebox, and the party has officially begun. I feel myself getting swept up in this place, this energy. I stare down at my glass of amber liquor and smile to myself. When in Rome, have a fucking drink, right? I knock back the shot, steadying myself against Brooks’ incredible body. He looks down at me, pleased and clearly turned on by my gumption. One thing’s for sure—I’ve never had this much fun at work in my life.
“Hey, Sparky,” Leo calls across the bar, “why don’t you go do what you do best so we can have some fun?”
A maniacal smile spreads across the red-bearded face of Sparky, the Wraiths resident pyro. He scampers out the back door, and the rest of us follow in a wave. I drink in a huge breath of night air, the smoky taste of the whiskey still fresh on my tongue. Looking around at the assembled men and women, I have to admit that they’re not what I expected. Though there’s an element of danger to them, they protect each other, following a fierce code. There’s honor among thieves—could there be honor among outlaws too?
Brooks keeps one hand on me at all times. I feel myself pressing back against his touch, reveling in the small point of contact. I’ve already decided to see where things go with him; why not enjoy it?
“How’re you feeling?” Brooks asks, guiding me away from the jostling crowd.
“I’m good,” I tell him, “just enjoying the party.”
“I can tell,” he grins, running a hand up between my shoulder blades. I can’t stop a shiver from running through my body at his touch. “Wound a bit tight there?” he asks, his crooked smile widening.
A pulse of excitement lights me up as the word tight trips off his lips. I remember my sexy dream all at once, every single image. Thank god the darkness is hiding the color in my cheeks. Before I can respond to Brooks’ evocative question, a roar goes up from the party. A huge crackling sound and blast of heat erupt as a wild light shoots into the sky. A roiling, massive bonfire comes to life at the center of the gathering. Sparky holds his arms up in triumph before the blaze. Guess having a serial arsonist around can come in handy.
“Impressed?” Brooks asks, looking at the fire.
My eyes don’t rest on the giant blaze. They’re fixed on Brooks’ face as the firelight dances across his features. “Yes,” I breathe.
He glances down at me, and shakes his dark curls. “I knew you didn’t really want me to stay away from you,” he says.
“The jury’s still out on that one,” I insist. But we both know it’s a lie.
“Whatever you say, Red,” he laughs, drawing a flask out from within his cut. He unscrews the cap and takes a long swig before offering it to me. I happily accept, eager to let my lips brush against the place where his just were. A mouthful of fire courses down my throat, warming me all over. Or maybe it’s just the closeness of Brooks that has me heating up.
“Come on, Red,” Brooks says, urging me further away from the group, “I want to show you something.”
I bite my lip, glancing back at the assembled party. Kassie and Kelly are wrapped up with their old men, laughing and having a good time. Clearly, they’re not too worried about little old me. I’m on my own with this sexy stranger of a man. I adjust the straps of my bag and take a calming breath.
“Sure,” I say, gathering up my courage, “let’s go.”
We turn our backs on the blazing fire and set off across the Dante’s Nine compound together. I pause to kick off my stilettos as we veer off into the wide-open land. I can’t believe that last week, my idea of a good time was a Netflix marathon and a bag of kettle corn. Who am I, all of a sudden? Wandering off from biker bars with strange, gorgeous men, shooting whiskey, taking crazy risks?
“Can I ask you something, Brooks?” I say, breaking the silence that’s been hanging like smoke in the air between us.
“Shoot, Red,” he says, as we climb up a low, rocky rise.
“Why didn’t you just let me fend for myself tonight?” I ask, glancing at his sculpted profile. “What’s it to you if I’m safe or not?”
“It’s pretty simple,” he shrugs, “I didn’t want anyone else getting to you first.”
“I don’t think it is that simple,” I challenge him. “I think you wanted to protect me as much as you wanted to call dibs on me.”
“You need some kind of romantic explanation? Fine,” he laughs, “Think whatever you want to think. As long as I still get to call you mine around here.”
“You’re not as hard to read as you think,” I grin, teasing him gently.
“You don’t know the first thing about me,” he growls, “If you did, you wouldn’t have followed me out here.”
The steely edge to his voice takes me by surprise. For the first time, a real jolt of fear runs through my heart. What if I’ve totally misjudged this man? What if I’ve really put myself in danger, trusting him tonight? But something about the pained expression that crosses his face tells me he’s no heartless bastard. Flawed, perhaps, but not heartless.
We walk along in silence once more, the sounds of the party fading behind us. My heart slams against my rib cage as if trying to escape. I don’t blame it. My fingers tremble as I clutch my purse tightly against my side. I’ve never been more relieved to be armed in my entire FBI career. If the slightest thing goes wrong, I’ll have to act without hesitation.
“Where are we going, Brooks?” I whisper.
“You’ll see,” he replies, his shoulders squared away from me.
Just as I’m about to make a break for it, turn and run back to the party, the ground levels out before us. Brooks stops dead in his tracks, and I crash right into his rock solid body. I look around wildly, but there’s nothing around us except low hills and dusty terrain.
“What...uh...” I stammer. “Why did we stop?”
“You’re such a city chick,” he laughs, stepping up behind me. His manner softens just slightly as he eases up against my body. Brooks places a hand dangerously low on my hip, and raises my chin with the other.