Rock Chick 02 Rescue (6 page)

This, however, was a bit different from the usual Dad bumdom stuff.

Since I hadn’t had a midday nap, my seven seconds of sleep did not exactly put me in good stead for anything, much less work, but I had to keep going. I didn’t have the luxury of taking time off.

Tex, Duke and Jane were al there when I got to Fortnum’s, Indy and Al y were nowhere to be seen.

This, I took as a good sign.

The minute the doors opened at 7:30 am, the coffee crush came through.

Tex was Indy’s main barista and somewhat of a coffee virtuoso. People drove out of their way for one of his creations. This was one of the reasons Indy had to hire me; they became mega busy because Tex was so popular. I was also pretty good with a portafilter, which helped me get the job.

I was cruising through eight o’clock, relaxing a bit and thinking that maybe Vance and Matt decided not to share when the bel went over the door and Eddie walked in.

I held my breath when I saw the look on his face. To say Eddie was unhappy would be like cal ing the Grand Canyon a sweet, little canal. In other words, Eddie was supremely pissed off.

I should have known Eddie wouldn’t like someone who might bring unsavory characters and possible danger into Indy’s bookstore. I was surprised Lee hadn’t come in first.

Eddie’s eyes caught mine and burned into me from across the room and I stood frozen to the spot. He walked straight up to and around the counter and, his eyes stil on me, grabbed my upper arm and hauled me out from behind the counter.

“Hey! What the hel you doin’? Do you
not
see the twenty people who want coffee out there?” Tex boomed to Eddie.

Eddie ignored him and dragged me into the bookshelves, back a half dozen rows to the Crime section (which was appropriate, I thought). He turned in then walked me al the way down the shelved row to the book-lined, side wal before he stopped.

We were wel away from the coffee crush and wel hidden; no one came looking for books during coffee time.

Eddie maneuvered me so my back was to the books then he moved in, his body in front of me, his left hand resting on a shelf by my head.

“What’s going on?” I asked, deciding to act innocent.

“You tel me,” Eddie said.

He saw through my act. How I knew this, I was not sure. It could have been either the narrowing of his eyes or the tightening of his jaw when he clenched his teeth after he was done speaking.

“I was helping Tex make coffee,” I told him.

He shook his head.

“Let’s talk about last night.”

My hopes were dashed.

Damn.

“Last night?” I asked.

“Last night.”

“What about last night?”

I had to admit, I was feeling a bit like I felt last night. At least my heart was beating as hard as it was last night.

“About you having a blade at your throat.” I gave up on innocent and tried nonchalant. “Oh, that.” Nonchalant wasn’t a good cal . If Eddie’s eyes were burning into me before, they were scorching now.

“Yes,
that
,” Eddie said.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I told him.

He stared at me for a beat as if antlers just sprouted from my forehead. Then he said a bunch of stuff in rapid-fire Spanish.

I knew a little Spanish, what with having four Mexican ex-boyfriends, and I think I caught some naughty words but I couldn’t be sure.

He reverted to English.

“You cal having a knife at your throat nothing?” I didn’t answer, thinking maybe silence was the way to go.

Wrong again.

He got closer and because he was already pretty close, this “closer” was predatory.

“You had a knife to your throat before?”

“Not that I can recal ,” I told him.

His black eyes got kind of a scary glitter.

“Would you forget something like that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” I al owed.

He came nearer and, at this point, his body was brushing mine.

“Why didn’t you cal the police?” he asked.

“It didn’t seem that big a deal,” I answered.

“Someone holds a knife to your throat, it’s a big deal.

You report it to the police.”

Normal y, I would agree with him.

“Dammit, Jet, for once, talk to me,” he said and it certainly wasn’t a request.

I stayed silent. Not being a bitch, mainly because I didn’t know what to say.

“Do you know Slick?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Vance says he was after your Dad.”

I nodded my head.

“Do you know what this is about?”

I shook my head again but then I said, “Slick told me Dad owed him something.”

I could tel by the look on Eddie’s face that this was not good news and my heart started beating even faster.

“I know Slick,” Eddie said, “and Slick is not a nice guy.”

“I got that impression when I met him,” I agreed.

At that answer, there was more teeth clenching.

“Where’s your Dad?” Eddie asked.

“He’s coming in this morning for donuts.” Eddie’s free hand came up and he dragged his fingers through his hair. He did this occasional y, pul ing his hand through his hair. At close range, it was fascinating. But then again, at deep range it was fascinating too; it was just that I’d never seen him do it close up.

Eddie started talking again, shaking me out of the moment. “I gotta tel ya, I’m not getting a happy feeling about this.”

“I’l take care of it,” I told him.

That made Eddie’s face change. I couldn’t read what it meant but I saw the change.

“How’re you gonna do that?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

I shook my head.

“So how’re you gonna take care of it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’l figure something out.” His eyes flashed.

“Something that requires another trip to the bank machine?”

I winced because I felt the question in my gut. I felt it for two reasons. One: Eddie asked it and it hurt that his asking it, and this whole conversation, meant he knew my Dad was a bum. Two: because there was nothing left in the machine.

Whatever it was I did to fix this mess would probably require me taking a trip to the Stripper Boutique and buying a g-string and pasties, which truly was
not
a happy thought.

“Jet,” Eddie said and I stopped thinking my unhappy thoughts and looked at him.

His face wasn’t pissed off anymore. His eyes were different. That difference communicated itself to me in physical ways, reminding me of his proximity and also reminding me that he was hot.

“That wasn’t fair,” I told him.

He didn’t answer.

I carried on, “It’s none of your business. None of this is any of your business.”

“I’m making it my business.” He told me, “Fair warning, Jet, I’m making
you
my business.” I felt a flutter in several areas of my body simultaneously.

I felt a flutter in several areas of my body simultaneously.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that but I was sure it scared the heck out of me.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” I said, wanting to make a move, get away from Eddie (far away from Eddie) and find my Dad and sort this out. “I’l take care of it.”

“What if you can’t?” he asked.

“I can.”

“What do you do if you can’t?” he repeated.

“I
can
.”

I mean, I did have years of sorting out al my family members’ problems. It wasn’t just Mom’s breakdown after Dad left. It wasn’t just her stroke. It wasn’t just giving Dad cash and a place to crash every time he rol ed into town. It wasn’t just letting Lottie cry on my shoulder, both close up and long distance, when some guy walked al over her heart. It was everything. In my life, “Who you gonna cal ?” was not answered with, “Ghostbusters”. It was answered with, “Jet”.

Eddie didn’t know that, of course, and I wasn’t going to tel him; but stil .

“I’m guessing any problem with Slick is a problem you can’t take care of,” Eddie said.

“I’l deal with it.”

“Jet.”

“I’l deal with it! It’s what I
do
! Okay? I deal with things. I’l find some way to deal with this too!” I shouted.

Yeesh.

After my outburst, he watched me for a beat and I saw his eyes change again. This time, they grew warm. I was finding I wasn’t real y very good with Eddie’s warm eyes on me. It did funny things to my thought processes.

His hand came up and he ran his knuckles down my jaw.

“Don’t do that,” I said, pul ing my face away.

“
Chiquita
, when you get done this afternoon, I’m picking you up and taking you to my house. I’m making a pitcher of margaritas, getting you shit-faced and you’re final y gonna talk to me.”

I stared at him in total shock.

“About what?” I asked, trying not to sound terrified.

“About
anything
.”

It was panic time. How it didn’t kick in earlier, I’d never know. I was beginning to feel weak in the knees and funny in the bel y.

Eddie went on. “We can start with why you’re workin’ at Smithie’s and we’l move on to why you wanted me to think you didn’t like Mexicans.”

Um, no way
in hell
.

“I can’t,” I said.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I just can’t. I have things to do.”

“What things?”

I stared at him for a second. “Just… things.” He ignored me.

“I’l be here at three to pick you up.”

I shook my head.

It registered at that inopportune moment that I could smel him, he smel ed real y nice and I liked it. It also smel him, he smel ed real y nice and I liked it. It also registered that I liked to feel the heat from his body and the way it brushed against mine. Furthermore, I also liked that warm look in his eye.

I liked a lot of things about Eddie.

No, I liked everything about Eddie.

Dear Lord.

I took a shaky breath. I noticed Eddie was watching me. I had to admit, I liked that too.

“Jet, three o’clock,” Eddie said.

“I like how you smel ,” I told him; just blurted it out, like a crazy person.

Once my idiotic comment was uttered, panic started to slice through the Eddie Daze but he saw it and put his right hand up on a shelf on the other side of me, by my hip, trapping me.

I looked up at him, flight on my mind but saw his eyes had gone fluid and he looked so flippin’ sexy, my bones went fluid too. So much so, I had to grab onto the material of his t-shirt at his abdomen to hold myself up.

His head started to come down and, I swear to God, he was gonna kiss me.

“Jet?” It was Indy cal ing.

I jerked back, hitting the back of my skul on the bookshelf.

When I looked at Eddie, his head was no longer descending, his eyes were closed and I could tel his teeth were clenched again, but he didn’t move away.

“Jet?” Indy cal ed again. Then I heard her say, “Oops!

Gosh. Sorry.”

Gosh. Sorry.”

I got up on tiptoe and looked over Eddie’s shoulder and saw Indy and Lee standing at the end of the row.

Lee looked amused. I knew this because he was smiling so much he looked like he was about to burst out laughing.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t interrupt but your Dad’s here,” Indy said.

“Great!” I replied brightly, letting go of Eddie’s shirt and ducking under his arm. “Thanks.”

I got a step away when I was jerked back at the middle. I looked and saw that Eddie had hooked a finger in the belt loop at the back of my jeans.

“Hang on there, C
hiquita
, I’m comin’ with you. I have a few things I’d like to ask your Dad.”

I looked up to Eddie. I wasn’t sure I wanted Eddie talking to Dad. “He’s just here for donuts.”

Eddie’s eyes locked on mine. “I could eat a donut.” I knew he wasn’t talking about donuts; he was talking about giving my Dad the same kind of third degree he just gave me.

Eddie jerked again on my belt loop and my shoulder came into contact with his chest. Then he said in my ear,

“We aren’t done.”

Eek.

A shiver of electricity, starting at my ear, went through my whole body. I ignored it and ignored him.

We were
so
done. We had to be done. I didn’t have the energy for this, I didn’t have the time for this and anyway, if I went up in flames of passion, who was going to take care of Mom?

Indy and Lee were walking in front of us; Eddie was beside me, his finger stil hooked into my belt loop.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Eddie said, apparently to Lee because Lee answered.

“Come on, tough it up. I had ten years. You’ve had, what?

Two months?”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Indy fel back a bit and into step beside me.

“What are they talking about?” I whispered to her.

“You don’t want to know,” she answered.

It was stil a coffee crush when we got to the front, but I saw Dad sitting on the back of one of the couches, eating a chocolate iced, custard fil ed donut and drinking a latte as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

The minute he saw me, he shouted, “Princess Jet!” Eddie stil had his finger in my belt loop so I couldn’t rush to Dad and warn him to flee.

Instead I just said, “Hey Dad.”

Dad looked to Eddie and saw Eddie’s hand behind my back

“Chavez, looks like you don’t let grass grow.”

“Ray,” Was Eddie’s reply.

Dad’s eyes moved to Indy and he smiled, then to Lee who’d come up with us. “Fuckin’ A.” He breathed, the smile dying out of his face and he looked almost panicked.

“You’re Lee Nightingale.”

“Yep,” Lee said.

“Fuck,” Dad said.

I found this confusing. I looked from Dad to Lee and opened my mouth to speak when the bel over the front door rang and I heard someone cal my name.