“Listen to me–”
“Stop, Haze.” She held up a hand without meeting my gaze. “Just stop. I don't want to hear any more of your judgements or expectations. When are you going to realize I'm not the girl you want me to be?”
“No, Leighton, this isn't about us. This is something serious.”
I realized the words had come out wrong the moment they left my mouth.
She recoiled and then spun toward the house, stomping up the garden path and across the manicured lawn without looking at me. I had no choice but to follow her.
Devlin threw open the French doors of his office and strode out onto the terrace even as Leighton walked past him. They didn't even look at each other, but as soon as Leighton was inside, Devlin turned to me.
“Mr. Welch? A word?”
Even though I desperately wanted to go after Leighton, I knew I had to go where the boss told me to, so I followed him into his office.
“So, your hunch was right,” Devlin said as he closed the door behind us.
“Yes. The owner of the Lamborghini turned out to be Dean Phillips. I went to his condo and he was there with Leighton.”
Devlin didn't need to hear any of the details about
how
I'd found them.
“Did you say Dean Phillips?” Devlin curled his hands into fists.
Clearly, he didn't need me to paint a picture. He already had an idea.
“I'll kill that son of a bitch. He's a good fifteen years older than her; does nothing but throw money around. What were they doing?”
I bit my tongue and refused to remember how I'd found Leighton splayed across Dean's black marble countertop. The soft sounds of pleasure I remembered she made ripped at me, but I refused to burden Devlin with the details. I shook my head.
“Drinking, drugs...her usual.” He sighed.
Having a man sniffing cocaine off her bare-naked thigh...
“Sir, I may have broken Mr. Phillips' stairwell door,” I said.
“Good. I hope you shocked the shit out of him,” Devlin said. Then he shook his head. “Never mind that. Dean will never have the balls to ask us to foot the bill.”
“He was worried that I'd mention his name to you,” I said.
Devlin's eyes narrowed and I saw the resemblance to Leighton more strongly than I ever had before. “Because he knows I'll destroy him for this. He had hopes of an executive producer title on my next sci-fi series, but he can go straight to hell now.”
“Sir?” I took a deep breath. He wasn't going to like what I had to say, but I had to do it. “We have to tell Leighton about the threats. She's running around LA without any clue how dangerous it is for her. Don't you think if she knew, she never would've tried a stunt like tonight?”
“Please,” Devlin said with a roll of his eyes. “I thought you knew my granddaughter better than that by now.”
I snapped. “You can't keep treating her like a child!”
Devlin's mouth flattened. “Just like I can't keep treating you like a family friend. You endangered Leighton's life tonight by neglecting to do your job, and now you dare tell me what's going to keep her safe?”
I spoke through clenched teeth. He was my boss, but she was my...fuck it. She was my everything.
“Leighton needs to know someone is threatening her life. The letters are getting more detailed, hinting at something happening soon. She has to know.”
“No,” Devlin said. “The only thing that has to happen is you taking the day off. Pull yourself together, Mr. Welch, your job depends on it.”
Chapter 16
Haze
I
was still angry when I stepped into the steaming hot shower. I'd failed Leighton. I might've found her, and brought her home safe, but now I'd made things worse. I was certain she wasn't speaking to me, and it was a safe bet she'd go out of her way to avoid me. How was I supposed to keep her safe when she didn't want me anywhere near her?
Devlin had been right to reprimand me and take me off duty for the rest of the day. I'd lost my focus, started thinking with my heart...and other things. I'd quit being smart, quit being the man Devlin hired to protect his granddaughter. I needed to find a way to get back to being that man again.
The hot water started to uncoil the knot of stress in my neck. As my body loosened, an image of Leighton appeared in my mind. Except, this time, it wasn't the fist-curling position I'd found her in with Dean. It was her the night we'd first met. Leighton on my lap, her bare arms wrapped around my neck, and her eyes looking into mine as we came together.
The surge of want was so strong that all my muscles tensed again. Shit. I'd never be able to relax or think clearly with such a desperate need. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to remember every detail of that night. I pressed one hand against the wet shower wall and wrapped the other around my hard-on.
The sight of her, the scent of her, surrounded me. I remembered the way she'd felt, the desperation in her movements, the way her eyes had glowed. I groaned her name as the sounds she'd made came back to my memory. My hand tightened around my cock, squeezing until it almost hurt. It'd been that tight inside her, tight and hot and her muscles had flexed around me as she'd come...
I leaned against the shower wall, a shudder running through me as I came. The hot water poured over my head and I sighed as I pushed back from the wall. I felt better, but my mind circled right back to my current impossible situation before I even stepped out of the shower.
Dammit!
I was out of ideas. Immediately after Devlin told me to take the rest of the night off, I'd gone downstairs to the gym and punished myself on the treadmill. The grueling miles had done nothing but make my blood boil hotter.
Now, my blood was boiling for another reason and I needed something to make it stop.
I got dressed, wishing there was some mess I needed to clean up. My quarters were technically part of the estate since the guest house was on the grounds, but I'd asked to not have the maid service cleaning things. Besides, it wasn't like I'd been there long enough to mess it up too much. I searched through the kitchen and found myself standing in front of the generously stocked liquor cabinet. A housewarming present I hadn't used yet. A stiff drink was a great idea, but the thought of drinking alone within yards of where Leighton was pouting wasn't appealing.
The
gardener laughed when I stopped to ask him if there were any real bars in LA. At least I didn't have to explain what I meant.
“Sure, man, but you have to drive a hell of a way from this neighborhood.”
“All I need is a beer,” I said.
“Well, this time of night's a little early for the 'it' crowd, so you might get one beer in peace at Tulsa's. About ten minutes down the boulevard,” the gardener said. He gestured in the direction I'd need to go.
“Thanks,” I said. It'd have to do, I supposed.
Twelve minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot. Tulsa's turned out to be a small restaurant with a back bar. The barroom was narrow with a gleaming wood bar and brass rail. Narrow high-backed booths lined the wall, and a few round bar tables spilled out onto a patio. There was a good selection on tap and only a few scattered people sitting along the bar. Not bad.
“Whiskey shot and a lager,” I said as I slid onto a bar stool.
“Unwinding or gearing up?” the bartender asked.
She was willow thin and tall, her blonde hair as straight as her figure. I watched as her delicate hands poured the shot and hooked a pint glass to pull the beer at the same time. Her hazel eyes flickered up to mine as she slid the drinks towards me. A confident smile curved her full lips.
“Some of both, I guess,” I said.
“Would it help if I did a shot with you?” she asked.
Why the hell not? I nodded and she poured a second whiskey shot. We clinked the small glasses and tossed back the auburn liquor. She leaned on the bar and twirled her empty shot glass.
“Whatever you're doing,” she said. “I bet it'd be easier with company.”
“You're right,” I agreed. “It's been way too long since I went out on a date or even flirted.”
“Well.” The bartender flipped her hair over her shoulder. “A few more customers followed you in. Why don't you look around and tell me if there's anyone you want me to introduce you to.”
I glanced around the barroom and realized there were at least fifteen more people than when I first arrived. The gardener was right; I wouldn’t get more than one peaceful drink before the place filled up. The bartender's plan of finding some company was sounding better, and I nodded toward a cluster of women teasing a waiter out on the patio.
“I do have a thing for red heads,” I said.
The bartender stood up and wiped the bar clean between us. The air between us froze. “Well, good luck with that.”
Shit.
I took my beer and retreated to a narrow booth within view of the patio. Not only had I insulted the beautiful bartender who I now realized had been flirting with me, but I'd blurted out a ridiculous confession about preferring red heads, especially when I'd never had a problem with blondes or brunettes before. When had that happened?
When I met Leighton, I thought.
I longed to order another shot of whiskey, but doubted I'd get prompt service from the bar, and the waiter was busy serving the cluster of women. I sipped my beer and thought about what it had been like going out for drinks with my army buddies. They used to call me 'Bait' or 'Chum' when we were out in the bars, because the women would flock to me.
I sighed. I should've told Leighton how Ian wouldn't be alone. I could've told her countless stories of how soldiers looked out for each other. Instead, I'd yelled at her and told her she was acting like a spoiled child. She had been, but that hadn't been the point. The point was, I'd been an idiot.
“The ladies on the patio want to know if they can get you anything,” the waiter said.
“A shot of whisky,” I said. “No, actually a double on the rocks.”
Leighton was back in my head and no amount of flirtatious smiles would chase her out. It was time to get drunk. I finished my beer, so when the waiter returned with my double whiskey, I ordered another. Then I raised my glass to the ladies on the patio and drank deep.
“Drinking alone or can I join you?” a woman asked.
She was tall, with curly chestnut hair and warm honey eyes. I gestured to the seat across from me and took another deep sip of my whiskey. I knew Leighton had tried to push me away with alcohol and sex, and as the whiskey swam into my head, I started to think I should try the same technique.
“I'm glad you came over,” I said. “Your friends aren't bad, but you've got a delicious smile.”
She bit her lip and let her honey eyes melt a little more. “And you just look delicious all over. What brings you to LA? Acting?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. Then I added, “Though I was just mistaken for an action star.”
“Stunt double?” she asked.
“Nothing in Hollywood,” I said with a smile. “I work in security.”
“I thought you looked familiar,” she said. “Are you a bouncer? That would be so great. My girlfriends and I are looking for somewhere fun to go tonight.”
I signaled the waiter. “No, sorry. I should have said I'm in private security.”
“A bodyguard?” she asked. “For someone famous?”
“More like infamous,” I said.
She laughed and tossed her chestnut curls. “Well, how about we order another drink and you tell me some good work stories.”
I nudged my foot into hers accidentally, and then felt her high heel slip up my calf. She caught my look and then licked her crimson lips. I let my gaze drop to her deep v-neck and brush along the ample cleavage she displayed.
Too big, I thought.
Without thinking, I'd compared the woman across from me to Leighton. I leaned back in the booth and fought not to knock my skull against the hard wood. Why couldn't I get Leighton out of my head? This woman was gorgeous.
“You know, you look a little lonely over there,” she said. She slipped into my side of the booth. “My name's Tanya.”
“Nice to meet you, Tanya. I'm Haze.”
I held out my hand to shake hers and squeezed when I felt her other hand slip up my thigh. Our drinks arrived and she kept her hand there, rubbing. I was just getting ready to say yes when a tall man sauntered by.
Son of a bitch.
“Ricky?”
“No,” she said. “Tanya.”
“No, sorry,” I said. “I think I see someone I know.”
Dammit. I inched away from Tanya's grip and pushed her drink across the booth. She took the hint and moved back across from me, trying to keep her smile in place.
“You sure are strong,” Tanya tried again. “Guess that's a job requirement.”
“I think it's more habit from my time in the army,” I said.
Tanya continued to talk, but her words faded as my ears buzzed. I'd seen Ricky again, and as I watched, he joined the cluster of Tanya's friends on the patio. Within minutes, he'd plucked a pretty blonde from the group and had his arm tight around her waist. They moved to the corner of the bar, and she giggled as he let his other hand rove down her back and over the curve of her ass. The blonde went up on her toes and kissed him.