Speed King (Men of Action) Page 5

“If it’s about Harley, save your breath.”

  “Held my tongue for a long time, man. It’s time you hear me out. You’re a lot of things, Ace. You may have come from a bad situation, but you became a decorated Marine with an intuition like no other person I’ve ever met. You overcame all the fucking shit and are one of the most badass men I know. I’m proud to call you my brother. But right now, I’m wondering when you became such a cruel son of a bitch.”

  I stumble back on my heels, not expecting that last blow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Why the hell are you holding back? She’s yours, Ace. And I don’t mean she loves you like the twenty-one-year-old that has feelings for the boy from high school. I’m saying she’s yours in the sense that the woman here last night has feelings for you that run so deep she can’t get away from them. Forget the reason she drug her ass out here. She didn’t believe the rumors. I clocked that with one look at her. She may have toyed with the possibility they were true, but she knew better. There was another reason for coming here, and that reason was you.”

  “I was at work.”

  “No fucking shit. That’s why she came. She knew there was no chance of running into you, and since you’ve blown her off for so long, she didn’t have to face another round of disappointment. I think you’re a damn fool if you continue this.”

  “Not having this conversation with you.”

  “You’d rather have it with me than Talon or Ford because I can bet your ass they’re ready to lay into you.”

  “Highly doubtful.”

  “You would say that because you’re wrapped up in your warped head, and you don’t see what everyone else sees. What they told you at the gym this morning was only the half of it. When you went half-cocked and knocked that punching bag to the ground, they knew it was up to me to explain the rest. Jay is confused, and that’s not fair. It was obvious last night in her actions. She was quiet and detached, kind of tiptoeing around the place like she didn’t belong even though she was invited. She acted the part, but you could tell she was uncomfortable. There wasn’t one word of protest when Ford roasted her ass in racing and we know he cheated. She wasn’t the same woman. I get your reasoning, but it’s time to rethink your plan.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “Stop avoiding her. Go back to being her friend.”

  “Her friend?”

  “Yeah, simple stuff. Text her, call her, take her to coffee, ask about her life. Stop ignoring her. Keep it simple and platonic. Then, maybe as you carry on with this stupid fucking charade of being aloof, she’ll finally clue in that you’re not interested and move on. Like I said, be her friend.”

  Plastic cuts into my hand as I crush the water bottle in an attempt not to take him down. “I don’t want to be her motherfucking friend and you know it.”

  “I thought I knew it by the way you acted at Tom’s, but seeing her last night made me rethink my stance. Anyone who loves her wouldn’t put her through this. Maybe you don’t love her. SITFU and be her friend.”

  A red film clouds my vision, and I’m about one second away from jumping the distance between us. The air in the room turns hot as I mentally try to control my anger. My entire body tenses, muscles strung so tight I feel my pulse ticking in my jaw. There’s a ringing in my ears at his implications. This morning is not the morning to fuck with me about Harley, and definitely not the time to mention her moving on. Telling me to suck it the fuck up isn’t smart. We don’t talk about shit like love and feelings, but these guys have always known, without bringing the emotions into it, how I feel.

  And right now, I feel like kicking my best friend’s ass.

  His lips split into a wide grin and he laughs, the sound grating on my already overactive nerves. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Are you aiming for a death wish?” I grind out.

  “No, I’m changing my side. As of today, I’m officially on Rich and Amanda’s team. Get your head out of your ass and make your move. It’s time. And if it was me, I’d find a way to be charming. She may love you, but she’s got a stubborn streak that mirrors yours. My money is on her teaching you a lesson.” He waltzes out of the kitchen, leaving the words hanging.

  They sink in and I throw the crushed bottle across the room. “Son of a bitch!” I yell, hearing his laughter from down the hall.

  He knew exactly how to bait me, and it worked. I check my watch, and my adrenaline races for an entirely different reason. Harley’s yoga class is over in an hour. That gives me very little time to shower and figure out what the fuck I’m doing.

  I lean against the front of my truck, taking in the trendy strip mall that looks like all the others in the area. Both ends capped with drive-thru windows, one a dry-cleaners and the other a non-chain coffee shop. In between are small businesses, including a yoga and Pilates studio. The windows are tinted, but once in a while, I catch a shadow of movement.

  I check my watch again, thinking that she should have been done five minutes ago. The eerie feeling of being watched prickles at my skin, and my eyes scan the area. A growl builds deep in my throat when I spot the assholes. Major is leaning casually against his driver’s side door talking with Talon, Ford, and Officer Randall, who are standing outside of their police SUV.

  They’re all smiling, eyes on me as I whip off my sunglasses to glare. “Killing them all.” I take a step forward right when the studio door opens and a string of women file out. At first, I think the glare must be bad, but after blinking a few times, it’s clear. The women are covered in sweat, red-faced, and some of them slow-moving. Harley is in the middle of the pack, and my chest seizes at the vision. Her tank top is plastered to her torso and chest, the red fabric more of a burgundy. Her braided hair is held back with a sweatband that is barely containing a few flyaway curls. She’s turned to the woman next to her, talking. As if she feels my presence, her head pops up, and she stops mid-stride.

  The woman next to her stops as well, following her gaze to me. I barely pay attention, focused on Harley and taking another step forward.

  Her friend nudges her shoulder, and she walks again, this time separating from the group.

  “Hey,” she says timidly, brushing her hair back absently when she gets closer. “What are you doing here?”

  “Are you okay?” I reach out to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, ignoring the question.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Because you don’t look like a woman that just did yoga.”

  She giggles, throwing her head back, her chest shaking. “You always have a way with words. I look like a wet rat. It’s hot yoga on Saturdays. They set the heat pretty high.”

  My body jerks. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because not all of us are built like a brick house, Ace.” She nudges my side.

  I’m about to respond about how she’s built perfectly fine when a male voice calls her name. She twists to the sound, and I step closer, watching a man in athletic gear coming our way. He rakes his eyes over us, and I don’t miss the flash of surprise aimed at me.

  “Hey, Erik,” she greets cheerily.

  “I meant to catch you before you left. I was wondering if you had time to grab a quick lunch. There’s something I’d like to discuss.” He glances at me uncomfortably and then back at her.

  She picks up on this and tilts her face to mine. “Achilles, this is my yoga instructor, Erik. And this is my friend, Ace.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and I take it, swallowing down the acid scorching my throat at the use of the words ‘friend’ and ‘Ace’. I’m always Achilles to her.

  “Yeah,” I respond, tightening my grip before releasing his hand.

  “Did you want to have lunch today?” she asks him.

  “Yes, unless you already have plans.”

  “No, I just need to go home and chan—”

  “Actually, I am taking you to lunch,” I cut her off briskly.

  Her eyes bulge and her mouth snaps shut.r />
  Erik’s expression turns to amusement as he crosses his arms. “Maybe tomorrow you could meet Kelvin and me for breakfast?” He speaks to her, but his focus is on me.

  I drop my head and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He’s good. That one statement tells me what I need to know. It also shows he’s fishing for information. My hand goes to her hip and pulls her the few inches to me.

  “We could probably do breakfast,” I say into her ear, but loud enough for him to hear.

  She huffs, elbowing me in the ribs, trying to move away. “I know I can do breakfast.”

  He flat-out smiles. “Great, I’ll text you later and set up a place.”

  “What do you want to talk about? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m expanding my business. I wanted to get your advice on marketing, promotions, and budgeting. A few facilities around town have contacted me for specialized classes. The short-term goals are pretty simple because I’m contracting with established businesses. It’s the long-term plan that needs some crafting.”

  “That sounds like a great opportunity.”

  “It is, but I don’t always want to be at the mercy of others. Eventually, I want my space and facility. My ideas are overflowing, but the cash flow is tight. Kelvin’s encouraging me to start a business plan.”

  “I’m not a genius, but we could throw some ideas around. My main recommendation would be to focus on building word of mouth for a foundation.” Her enthusiasm picks up, and she bounces on her toes, the movement rubbing her full back against my front.

  My body comes alive, my cock swelling fast, and I grip her tighter. “Why don’t you save the good stuff for breakfast tomorrow?”

  She stills, and Erik’s smile grows wider. He eyes me knowingly. “Should I request a table for four or eight to include your audience?”

  Harley whips her head around, and when she spots the guys, she lets out a squeak. “What the hell?”

  “Let’s stick with four. Those assholes may not be functioning tomorrow,” I answer.

  He tips his chin and turns to leave, jogging back to the studio.

  “What in the world is going on?” Harley hasn’t taken her eyes off the men.

  “Ignore them.”

  She steps out of my hold and shakes her head a few times. “Let’s go back to my original question. What are you doing here?”

  “I thought we established this. I’m taking you to lunch.”

  She looks at me like I’m crazy, her hands flying in the air as she lays into me. “Taking me to lunch? Did I miss something? I don’t remember setting anything up. As a matter of fact, I distinctly recall trying to get together for months with no interest from you. Did you think to call or message me? Maybe say ‘Hey, Harley. Sorry I’ve avoided you forever, but let’s grab a bite to eat and catch up.’ Or ‘I’d like to take you out to apologize for being the world’s most evasive ass lately.’ ”

  Here’s the fire Major was referring to this morning. Luckily, I came prepared. I pull out my phone and hit send.

  I’m taking you to lunch. We need to talk about last night. I’ll be waiting after your yoga class.

  Less than three seconds later, her phone chimes, and she scowls at me as she digs it out of her bag. “I’m not sure I want to talk about last night.” She slumps, her spark and irritation dying out.

  “We’re talking about it, but I’d prefer we don’t do it with the idiot peanut gallery watching on. Knowing Major, he probably has a listening device set up.”

  “It’s embarrassing.”

  “So jump in the truck and let’s clear the air.”

  “How about we never speak of it again and forget it ever happened? It was not one of my shining moments. It’s none of my business what you do in your personal life.”

  Her voice drops low. I immediately pick up on the hurt in her words, and move into action. In a second, she’s in my arms and I’m stomping to the passenger side of my truck. She lets out a little yelp when I haul her onto the seat and slam the door, jogging to my side.

  “Buckle up,” I instruct, pulling out of the parking lot.

  “What about my car?”

  “We’ll come back for it.”

  “I’m not exactly dressed for lunch.”

  She’s perfectly dressed, but instead of telling her, I decide to set things straight.

  “Glen Bates is an arrogant prick with a big mouth and nothing else to back him up. He’s been a pain in the ass since the first day in the academy. His type is straightforward. High-society shithead raised with a silver spoon. Give him the chance and he’ll tell you how special he is. My guess is he has no interest in being a cop, but he wants the power behind the title. He doesn’t have what it takes to handle the badge.

  “He tried to buddy up to us and we edged him out. He didn’t like being snubbed. Since he thinks his shit doesn’t stink, he became a passive-aggressive pussy. About that time, the rumors started. Unlike a lot of those guys, chasing women and talking about our conquests isn’t our gig. We socialize little outside of ourselves and don’t feel the need to explain. I can’t speak for what Ford, Major, and Talon do every minute of their days, but women aren’t parading through our house—ever. Ford’s parents are loaded and make their money in real estate. They develop communities all over the place. Having a community in Nashville was a coincidence. Also, a convenience. Hence the mansion on the hill. The four of us moving in together may seem odd to some, but we don’t give a fuck. The house is huge, we have our privacy, and even if we had our own places, we’d probably still be together.”

  “I don’t think it’s odd,” she says shyly.

  “Glad to know.”

  “I think it’s outstanding.”

  I glance across at her and see her eyes are full of sincerity and shining brightly. “You think it’s outstanding that a group of grown men live together?”

  “I do. I’ve worried about you for a long time. You’ve never really had a home. The environment you grew up in wasn’t healthy. Then you travelled the world with the Marines, never settling down. I can sleep easy at night knowing you’re in a place that’s beautiful, safe, and filled with people you care about. That’s why I went snooping. A part of the reason was the stupid rumor, but the larger part was to see where you are living. I needed to see for myself.”

  My gut twists at her raw honesty and the wounded demeanor Major was referring to.

  “I’m good, Harley. You never need to worry about me.”

  “I’m still embarrassed.”

  “I wish I was there. Talon says the best part was the wrestling match with Jewls.”

  “Men are ridiculous.”

  I pull into her complex and turn the corner to her apartment, spying the delivery propped by her door.

  She doesn’t notice, gathering her things and jumping out. I follow her closely and know the minute her breath hitches.

  “What is this?” Her eyes dart between the floral arrangement and me.

  I shrug, handing them to her and sliding the card into her palm.

  I’m Sorry.

  Two words… The most important two words I owe her.

  Silence hangs between us, and when she looks up at me, her eyes are shining a deep, bright blue. “You’re sorry?” Her question comes out raspy, her voice loaded with emotion.

  “I am.” There is much more to say, to explain, but the timing isn’t right.

  She launches forward, throwing her arms around my neck. I return the embrace, squeezing tight.

  “The last time you gave me flowers was the night I forced you to take me to your senior prom.”

  “Having the most gorgeous date at the dance was no hardship.” The prom was all her doing, and I hated the thought of attending. But her excitement made it worth it.

  “Come on in. I need to clean up and change.” She takes out her keys and leads us into the apartment. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get these in water.” She heads to her kitchen.

  I’ve never been
in her place before, but know the layout because when she told me she was moving here, I made a call to the leasing office. The security is decent; the neighborhood is safe, and the surrounding tenants all have clean records. Rich and I both agreed it would do for now.

  Her stamp is all over the place. I spot myself in a few of the pictures, and my pulse races at the shot of me walking into the arena a few weeks ago at graduation. It’s placed right next to the picture of Harley and me the day I left for boot camp. Over a decade separates the two—it feels like a lifetime ago I was that boy.

  “Where would you like to eat?” She places a vase on her small table. “How should I dress?”

  “Actually, you are perfect. We’re going someplace cool, easy, and very casual. Maybe even pack a bag with a suit.”

  “A swimsuit? To a restaurant?”

  “No one said anything about a restaurant.”

  “Where are you taking me then?”

  “A mysterious place on a hill called the Casanova Club.” I crook an eyebrow, waiting for her reaction.

  Her mouth drops open, and she slaps her hand over it as a loud giggle escapes. Her body vibrates with laughter until a tear slides down her cheek. “That place has quite a reputation,” she coughs out.

  “Only the best for my sweet Harley.”

  A beautiful glow sweeps over her expression, and she turns toward her room, calling over her shoulder. “I hope the Casanova Club serves a good lunch because I am starving.”

  It’s my turn to smile.

  6

  Harley

  I stare in wonder at the sight Achilles casually refers to as the ‘pool area’. Yes, there’s a pool, but that’s a minor piece of this breathtaking back yard. It’s as if I’ve transferred to a swanky spa resort and men dressed in uniforms are waiting to offer me a cocktail. There’s so much that I don’t know where to focus first—pool, hot tub, and a raised fire pit at the edge of the patio made from the same stone pavers. The outdoor kitchen is larger than my entire apartment, and I lean to see what it’s backed up to.

  Ford, Talon, and Major didn’t exactly offer a tour when we crashed on Friday night. I saw the living room, kitchen, and media room upstairs. That’s about the extent.