“You’re fucking up too, brother, and you know it.”
His lips pressed together.
“How many times a week? Twice, three times?”
“What’s it matter to you–”
“He’s going to hurt you.”
“Like you hurt Jazz?” Tango fired back, gaze sharpening.
This was so not the direction Aidan had wanted to take things. “I didn’t mean–”
He heard footsteps. Light, clipping footfalls across the boards, moving toward them.
Tango heard them too, and they both braced themselves, reached for their weapons.
Aidan had a hand inside his cut, curling around the butt of his Glock when their interloper stepped between the doorjambs and entered the ballroom.
Samantha.
“Shit,” he hissed, letting go of his gun, half-relieved and half-pissed. “Sam, I thought I told you not to come.”
She braced a hand on the grimy doorframe, curled up one leg, and twisted around to scan the sole of her shoe. In her very proper skirt and sweater number, she looked a little like a Disney character, one about to break into song looking at her pose.
“Hmm,” she said, straightening. “Funny. I don’t see a ‘Property of Aidan Teague’ sticker anywhere.” She met his gaze with a tiny smile that managed to be both mocking and sweet. “So I came on over.”
His stomach grabbed, and it had nothing to do with residual hangover sourness.Property of– did she understand the biker implications there? Had the thought ever crossed her mind? The pawprint tattoo, hidden somewhere beneath her clothes, somewhere private on her smooth, unmarked skin that was for his eyes only. His name scrawled in ink, embedded in her forever.
Probably not. That was probably just his mind spinning crazy scenarios right now.
“Hi, Kev,” she greeted Tango.
“Hi, Sam.” The guy’s smile was genuinely warm for her. “I think you’re a little overdressed for this place.”
She shrugged. “It’s all cheap and machine washable.” She gestured toward her outfit, a move that pulled her sweater tight across her breasts and invited Aidan’s eyes down the length of her. The skirt fit nice, hugging her hips and ass, highlighting the slender shapes of her legs.
You look pretty, Aidan thought.And way too decent to be in this awful place. What came blurting out of his mouth, though, was, “Don’t you have to be at work?”
Her smile widened. “We already had that conversation, remember?”
“Yeah. Right.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, his head suddenly pounding.
“So, did you guys find anything yet?” she asked.
“You gonna help us look?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Did your sister say what kinda paraphernalia they were handing around? Needles? Baggies? Joints?” Tango asked.
“She said bags,” Sam said, “but with Erin, bless her heart, that could mean anything.” She let out a deep breath and folded her arms, gaze tracking across the room, up the staircases to the gallery. “This place,” she murmured. “It still gives me goosebumps.”
Aidan grinned. “Little miss good girl like you, when were you ever in here before?”
Her eyes were wide and unhappy when they came to his face. “I came to a couple parties, when we were in high school.”
Ah, right. Back when he hadn’t known she existed.
