Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (9 page)

“Thank you,” I reply, glancing down at my carefully
put-together outfit. I followed Kassie and Kelly’s lead a bit more today,
rather than my techie ex’s. I’m rocking a pair of black skinny jeans, an
ultra-soft yellow tee, and a fishtail braid. And of course, my glasses. They’re
almost like a mask for me to hide behind while I play the role of Keira
Campbell. Whatever works, right?

I take the elevator all the way to the top, my pulse picking
up with every passing floor. I wonder if Brooks will be around today? Tiberi
said he’d be working at the Dante’s Nine auto shop most of the time, but who
knows? Probably I should be hoping that he’s fixing an engine somewhere, but
I’d be lying if I said I’m not hoping to see him. No harm in enjoying the view,
as he would say. There’s no getting around the fact that he’s an attractive
man. As forbidden as our getting together would be, a girl can dream. Quite
literally.

I smile at my reflection in the mirror that hangs in the
penthouse landing. This Keira is a sharp dresser. Why is it so much easier to
feel good about myself when I’m someone else?
Ugh
.
Best save the psychological quandaries for another day. I rap my knuckles on
the door to suite B, adjusting the strap of my messenger bag. It’s tugging on
the neckline of my tee shirt, exposing the very top of my bra. But before I can
get my clothes in order, the door swings open.

“Hey—Oh...” I sputter, staring dumbly through the doorway.

Brooks towers before me in all his cut, inked glory, wearing
nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his tapered waist. Of their own accord,
my eyes skirt down his built torso, right down the ripped v at his hips—two
lines of pristine muscle pointing right at the part of his body I spent the
night dreaming about.

“Hey yourself,” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

I wrangle my face into an expression of indifference, but my
entire body is buzzing with amorous sensation. His dark curls are still wet
from the shower, and tiny droplets of water cascade down his amazing body. OK,
so I am
totally
turned on. I’m only human.

“You gonna let me in?” I ask him, planting my hands on my
hips.

“Only if you tell me the password,” he replies, leaning
against the doorframe.

“How’s ‘some of us actually have jobs to do’ for a
password?” I quip.

“That’ll do it,” he grins. “Nice bra, Red.”

I blush instantly, adjusting the neck of my tee as I hurry
past him. “I told you, don’t call me Red.”

“Can’t help it, Red,” he shrugs, “those locks of yours are
impossible to ignore. Embrace it—you’re gorgeous.”

Thankfully, Kassie and Kelly appear from behind the door of
suite A before I have to formulate a response to that. They roll their eyes at
the perfect specimen of man that is Brooks, parading around in his towel.

“Are you familiar with the phrase ‘hostile work
environment’?” Kelly demands, brushing into the room.

“Me? Hostile?” Brooks replies, running a hand through his
wet curls. “What are you talking about? I’m a goddamn delight to be around.”

“Walking around half naked is borderline sexual harassment,”
Kassie informs him, “and even if you don’t think that counts as hostile, you’re
going to make
me
hostile if you don’t stop bothering my new coworker.”

“I’m not bothered,” I say, before I can help it. “I mean—I’m
not easily offended.”

“That’s good, given our present company,” Kelly mutters,
settling down at the long wooden table.

“Come on. I’m not that bad,” Brooks insists, as Kassie and I
follow Kelly’s lead. “You’ll grow to love me, I promise.”

“I’m happily in love with my own hard-headed bad boy,” Kelly
remarks.

“That goes double for me,” Kassie chimes in.

“Guess it’s just you and me then, Red,” Brooks smiles,
shooting me a wicked wink. “What do you say?”

“Keep on with that wishful thinking, buddy,” I shoot back.
“Whatever helps you get through the day.”

“So damn feisty. I’m into it,” he says, turning to go.
“You’re gonna be at my party tonight, right Red?”

“You’re seriously throwing yourself a housewarming party? In
our office?” I ask.

“No. He’s not
quite
that audacious,” Kassie says. “The rest of the Dante’s Nine guys—sorry, that’s
the MC Dec’s a part of—they’re throwing him a welcome bash at their clubhouse
later tonight.”

“My old man’s MC will be there too,” Kelly puts in. “They’re
friendly these days. So once we get a little work done here, we’re gonna have
to do some party shopping.”

“You don’t have to come along on those errands if you don’t
want to,” Kassie says quickly, “We didn’t hire you to be a gopher. And of
course, your attendance at the party is not a required part of this job. No
matter what this guy says.”

“Actually,” I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my
voice, “I could stand to blow off some steam. And I don’t mind helping you get
stuff ready for the party.”

“Really?” Kassie and Kelly say in unison.

“I knew you’d come around,” Brooks smiles, heading into the
suite’s bedroom. “I’ll make sure you have a good time, Red.”

“Thanks for caring, buddy,” I quip, “your concern is truly
touching.”

“Much more than touching,” he corrects me, “but not until
you’re ready for me.”

The bedroom door snaps closed behind him as Kassie and Kelly
shake their heads.

“If you want to punch him, you have my blessing,” Kelly
tells me.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I smile.

We spend a couple of hours talking at length about CrowdedNest
and my role in the company. But inside, I’m throwing myself a damn parade.
First day on the job and I’ve already scored a look at the Dante’s Nine
clubhouse? Mitchell’s going to give me a medal.

It’s much easier to concentrate once Brooks heads off to the
auto shop, looking as gorgeous as ever in light denim jeans and a white tee
beneath his Dante’s Nine cut. I can feel my body yearning for him as he walks
out the door. I’ve never been this physically drawn to someone. Is it because
he’s off limits that I feel this wanting so keenly?

“Keira?” Kassie says, dragging my attention back to the
present. “Does that all sound good to you?”

“Oh. Yeah,” I reply brightly. We’ve been talking about the
sort of work I’ll do at CrowdedNest, but my attention has strayed in a big way.

“Great,” Kelly says, “now enough of this work talk. Let’s
blow this pop stand and get on over to the Forty-Five Club.”

“What’s that?” I ask, as we stand to go.

“That’s the Dante’s Nine clubhouse,” Kassie clarifies, “a
bar outside of town. It’s a little rough around the edges, but I think you’ll
like it.”

“I know we don’t really fit the biker chick mold,” Kelly
grins, “but I think you’ll see that we run with a rather...boisterous crowd.
You sure you want to tag along?”

“Hell yeah. I can’t wait to meet everyone,” I smile gamely.

“Oh. But before we go,” Kassie says, looking over my techie
chic outfit, “we need to do something about...all this.”

“You don’t like it?” I ask, looking myself over.

“We love it,” Kelly says, “for here the office. But you’ll
get eaten alive by the guys and the girls if you show up to the party looking
like a J Crew model.”

“Let me lend you a couple of things,” Kassie insists,
grabbing me by the wrist and towing me away. We cross the landing into Suite A,
a space even more impressive than the first. There’s something incredibly, and
surprisingly, controlled about the place. I’d expect the VP and old lady of an
MC to live somewhere a bit more...gritty, I guess. But I’m starting to suspect
that I have a lot of misconceptions about the MC life.

I’m led into Kassie and Tiberi’s bedroom, and the girls
begin dressing me at once. Thank god I’m not wearing a wire right now. They let
me keep my black skinny jeans, but swap my yellow tee for a white crop top,
tousle my hair into its natural red curls and swipe ruby red across my lips. My
flats are replaced with stilettos, and the transformation is complete.

“Well?” Kelly prompts, leading me over to a full-length
mirror. “What do you think?”

My jaw drops as I look myself over in the mirror. I’ve never
been so vamped up in my life. Each curve and angle is perfectly accentuated,
and the overall impression is, well, kind of overwhelming. “I think...you made
me into a babe,” I breathe, staring back at my own blue eyes.

“Come on. You’re already a babe,” Kassie laughs, “Please
tell me you know that.”

“Oh, um...” I stammer, unsure. I’ve certainly never been
called a babe before.

“Oh, my god!” Kelly exclaims. “You have no idea how gorgeous
you are, do you?”

“I guess I do OK,” I shrug, eyeing my improved reflection.
Now I really feel like I have a costume to hide behind.

“We need to work on this confidence deficit,” Kassie laughs.
“There’s no reason someone as beautiful, funny, and talented as you should ever
feel like less than a million bucks.”

At a loss for words, I simply smile at my new bosses. And
dare I say...friends? It’s only been a day, but I already feel so at ease
around these women. That is, until I remember what it is I’m really doing here.
I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to investigate.

“Why don’t we get a move on?” I suggest, not wanting to
think about how two-faced I really feel. “I can’t wait to see the clubhouse.”

We set off together in Kassie’s smoking red muscle car. Only
the best for Declan Tiberi’s old lady, I guess. Reading up on the Dante’s Nine
VP, I found out that he’s got money to burn and then some. His personal and
club finances have always been dubiously entwined, a fact that could get him in
trouble down the line, depending on how Operation Inferno goes. Part of me
almost hopes that we don’t find anything in our investigation. That way, Kassie
and Kelly would never have to find out that I tried to take them down. But why
do I care so much what they think? I can’t let myself get attached.

After we’ve gathered up all the party supplies we need, the
three of us finally set off for the Dante’s Nine clubhouse. Kassie’s car is
loaded with barbecue fixings and enough booze to get a small army wasted off
their asses. But then, I guess that’s exactly what we’re setting out to do
here.

I force myself to take deep breaths as we drive out past the
main Las Vegas drag. This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to gather
intel about CrowdedNest and leave it at that. I hope this risk I’m taking
doesn’t blow up in my face.

“Here we are,” Kassie says at last, as we approach a couple
of low building rising out of the horizon, “home sweet home!”

I stare out the window at the Dante’s Nine headquarters. An
unassuming, brick-faced bar is the first thing I see. Neon beer logos light up
the front window, and a good dozen Harleys are already parked outside. Above
the door is a large sign bearing the sigil of Dante’s Nine—a pair of dice
rolling a four and a five.

Adjacent to the bar is a new-looking auto shop, fitted with
all the best equipment that money can buy. That must be where Brooks and some
of the other guys work during the day. The shop looks impressive, but I have a
hard time imagining that its proceeds alone could keep an MC flush with cash.
Bruno is right. It’s got to be a front for
something
.

Kassie parks in front of the beat-up bar, and the three of
us step out into the warm early evening. I can hear the sound of carousing
voices from inside, and I steel myself as best I can. Walking into a den of MC
types without spitting isn’t going to be easy for me, but I’m discovering that
I’m a pretty decent actress. Besides, I’m not doing anything wrong by being
here. If they’re not hiding anything, we’ve got no problem. Fixing my face with
an expression of interested curiosity, I follow Kassie and Kelly inside.

The smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke hits me hard as we
cross the threshold. I blink around the dimly lit space and feel dozens of hard
eyes staring back. I quickly count nine men in black leather cuts. That means
that the entirety of the Dante’s Nine MC is spread around the bar before me. I
scan the weathered faces I’ve only ever seen plastered on Mitchell’s wall at
the FBI. It’s so bizarre to finally be seeing them up close.

There’s Declan Tiberi, of course, making his way toward
Kassie. The stout, grizzly man he’s been talking to must be Kenneth “Kip”
Sanders. The twin bouncer types shooting pool are Frank and Teddy O’Leary.
Oliver “Ollie” Jenkins is the one with the face tattoo, and Chuck Morrelli is
the wiry one who looks like he’d kill you while your back was turned. John
Baxter sits coolly at the bar, looking at me with mild curiosity while sharing
a drink with the other oldest club member, Saul Ellison. That makes eight.

And then, of course, there’s the ninth and newest member of
Dante’s Nine. Brooks.