Chapter 16
Zane
I’d replayed it over and over in my mind.
Peyton had been totally into the kiss. That kiss was definitely a red-hot beginning kiss, not a cold-fish end kiss.
We were going to kiss again, and go on from there.
I’d felt the desire coiled up in her, yearning to be released, and I was the man for that task.
“That’s it,” Ray said, bringing me back to the cold reality of her broken door.
Ray was the contractor Lucas had recommended, and he clicked closed a padlock on the entrance to her condo.
“Safe and secure until I’m done. Three days for the door to arrive, one to hang it, and then you can be back home.
” He handed me one of the keys to the padlock and kept the other.
I pocketed it. “Thanks, man.” It didn’t matter that we’d had to screw ugly galvanized hardware into both the door and the jamb to secure them. All this had to be replaced anyway.
In four days, Peyton would be able to move back in and avoid me.
My cock twitched as I visualized sweet Peyton under me at my place, telling me she didn’t want to move back so quickly.
I had four days to convince her that our kiss had not been a mistake, but instead, the beginning of something we both wanted to explore.
Neither of us could know where it would lead without trying.
I walked Ray out and started up the Cayenne to get back to that elusive woman. Four days.
First things first, I dialed my friend Duke for advice.
“Hey, brother, what’s up?” he answered.
“Can you talk?” I knew he was on a bodyguard assignment with some Hollywood celebrity type.
“For a few minutes. They’re busy eating lunch and posing for selfies. I hate this shit.”
“The boss says it pays the bills. And they’re hot, so what’s the problem?”
“The problem is everything about them is fake, from their boobs to their brains. They’re in their twenties, but they act like they’re sixteen, talk like they’re twelve, and are dumber than eight-year-olds.
Then after lunch, I have to drive them home so they can puke up everything they ate.
The airheads are all about selfies and followers.
I swear, if we have a baby girl, she will have zero, and I mean zero, access to social media. ”
“Rough life you have.”
“Shut it. You called me.”
“I did. I don’t know the town. Where would you take a girl to dinner?”
He chuckled. “Does this girl have a name that begins with P?”
I sighed. “Maybe.” His fiancée was best friends with Peyton’s boss, so it didn’t really make sense to deny it.
“Cardinelli’s, the place where we did Grace’s birthday party. Best Italian grub in town, bar none. Better call early, they book way out.”
I braked for the delivery truck that pulled away from the curb without checking his mirrors. Shit. “What else you got? It has to be tonight.” If I didn’t lock down dinner, I could see Peyton backing out.
He sucked in a loud breath. “Write down this number.” He rattled it off, and I noted it. “Tell Lauren you work for Lucas Hawk and you’d like a reservation. She’ll arrange it for you.”
“Who’s this Lauren?”
“Bill Covington’s wife. They own the restaurant.”
Everyone in town knew the Covington name. “I don’t know about that.” I felt suddenly uneasy about this whole thing. Who was I to call these billionaires and ask for a favor?
“You like Peyton, right? Do it. It’s no big deal. We’re in tight with the Covingtons. We’ve done jobs for them before.” The way he said it, I guessed the jobs were dangerous ones.
I braked for the red light ahead. “Are you sure?”
“Crap. They’re ready to leave the table. I gotta go.” The line went silent.
After a few deep breaths for courage, I dialed Lauren Covington, perfectly prepared to be blown off as the no-name guy I was. But as soon as I mentioned Lucas’s name, she lit up. “What can I do for you, Zane? May I call you Zane?”
“Sure. You see, I’ve got this woman I like a lot, and I’d love to take her to dinner at your restaurant.”
“No problem. When?”
“Tonight?” I tried.
“Certainly. What time?”
That was so much easier than I expected, but I hadn’t considered a time. “How about seven?”
“I’ll take care of it. We have a table we call the honeymoon table. It’s quite romantic. Or if that’s not appropriate, we can seat you in main dining.”
I might be pressing too hard, but I went for it. “Romantic sounds perfect.” SEALs didn’t give up just because the objective was difficult.
“A special lady then?”
I could almost hear the smile on her face. “Yes.”
“The hostess will be expecting you at seven.”
After the call, I marveled at the reach of Lucas’s name in this town. A minute later, I pulled into the Hawk garage underneath the offices.
Joe gave my car the onceover. “You been treating her right?”
“Of course.” I patted the top of the car like a pet dog.
Joe treated these cars like his children, and he didn’t appreciate that our business sometimes resulted in them being used hard and occasionally crashed or even shot up.
So far, I was on his good side, since my car hadn’t been damaged and I hadn’t burned all the rubber off the tires, racing it through city streets.
Peyton
With the issue of the break-in probably resolved, what remained was getting my bike back, or replacing it.
After another half hour at my desk, smelling the fragrant roses, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer.
It didn’t help that work was slow this morning.
I picked up my phone and almost called March, but decided interrupting him wouldn’t be ideal.
Yeah, the needy woman wasn’t me, or at least I didn’t want to be her.
Instead, I selected the tech specialist’s number.
When Grace had been under attack, she’d given me the contact numbers to everybody at Hawk, just in case—even their scary boss, Lucas.
“Why, good morning, pretty lady,” Jordy answered. The computer nerd wasn’t as rough around the edges as all the others. “What can I do for you? Ah, I know. You’re tired of that broody SEAL and want lunch with me. Lucky for you, I’m available today. I’ll even treat.”
I laughed. “Broody, huh? March said he was asking you to look through the local databases and see if whoever took my bike was trying to sell it.”
“He did,” Jordy confirmed. “And I have good news. I was waiting to hear from Zane. He wanted to be alerted.”
My heart sped up. “I can use some good news. What is it?”
“A good Samaritan found your bike and posted it in lost and found on Craigslist.”
“How do we know it’s mine?”
“Painted pink with your name engraved on it. Sound familiar?”
I pinched myself, the slight pain confirming that this was real. “My name? That’s awesome. That is so great. Jordy, you’re a lifesaver. You made my day. Where is it? When can I get it back?”
“Hold on,” he intoned slowly. “Get this. I called the number and talked to the lady, but she wouldn’t give me the time of day.
She said she knew the bike wasn’t mine because of the name engraved on the frame.
She hung up before I could ask if it was your name.
I think you’re going to have to call her. My falsetto’s not good enough.”
Marci stopped by my desk, and I waved her away. This was too important. “What’s the number? I’ll call her.” Goose bumps raised on my skin. This was how much my life had changed—getting my bike back was better than anything in months.
He gave me the number. “Now, about lunch.”
I giggled. “You weren’t kidding?”
“Lucas doesn’t let me out much. But hell no, I wasn’t kidding.”
“Sure, but I can’t afford it this week.”
Lucas Hawk gave me the shivers. His last name fit him. He made you feel like a tasty field mouse when his gaze landed on you. For some reason, it felt slightly odd to accept Jordy’s invitation, but I owed him.
“I said my treat.”
“Okay, but not today.” I thanked him and hung up.
Seeing me put the phone down, Marci reappeared. “You’ve had a rough couple of days. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Still feeling okay?” She was very sweet.
“Better now,” I explained. “It sounds like Jordy found my bike.”
“That’s terrific. Where?”
“I don’t know yet. It was listed on Craigslist in lost and found. I need to call the lady.”
Marci encouraged me to call right away and went back to her desk.
Nervously, I dialed the number.
“Hello?” a woman answered just as I got another incoming call.
“I’m calling about the bike you found?” I quickly checked the screen. March was calling in. I sent him to voicemail.
“Look,” the lady said. “I’ve had a dozen calls already. How do I know you’re the owner?”
I gave her the manufacturer and model number. “I painted it pink and engraved my name on it. Peyton Smith. Peyton with an E.”
“Well, that matches. How soon can you get here?”
“I’m at work now. I can come to you after I get off, say five-thirty?”
She huffed out a breath. “I’m leaving to visit my mother a half hour from now. Make it here by then or you can wait until I get back next month.”
Next month might as well be next year. “Give me your address, and I’ll be right over.”
She rattled off an address too quickly for me to write down, so I had her repeat it, then read it back to her from my message pad. “I’m leaving right now.”
“Don’t forget my reward,” she said.
Of course there had to be a catch. “I’ve got thirty dollars on me.”
She laughed. “Thirty bucks? Don’t bother. I’ll give it to one of those other people who called.”
“Fifty,” I countered.
“See you soon.” The line went dead.
On the way out the door, I borrowed twenty dollars from Marci.
When I put the address the woman had given me into the Uber app, it told me I could be picked up in four minutes and the ride would take another twenty.
Luckily, I had enough left on the pre-paid debit card I’d given the app to cover the fare.
I paced back and forth in front of our building, waiting for the car. It arrived on time, and I settled into the backseat, then pulled up my voicemail.
“Hi, Angel,” March’s voice said.
Hearing that put a smile on my face.
“We talked to your neighbor, Frank, and he lied to us about his time away from work. He claimed he was working all day except for thirty minutes at lunch, but his boss confirmed he was gone closer to two hours.”
I didn’t know how to interpret that.
“We’re going to sweat him after he gets off work to get the truth. The good news is that it looks like he probably broke into your condo. I know that doesn’t sound good, but it gives us a better shot at getting your money returned.”
Hot damn. I pumped my fist in the air, at least as much as I could inside a car. Things were looking up. First my bike, and now maybe my money. Plus, if Frankie was the burglar, that meant the mugging and theft were unrelated events, and March didn’t need to be so hyper-worried about my safety.
“Talk to you later. Bye.” The recording ended, and I put the phone down.
The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror. “You win the lottery?”
I smiled. “Good news, but not that good.”
My phone rang. It was March again, and I was in no mood to have another discussion about kissing. It was going to be bad enough having the question hanging over us at the dinner I’d agreed to without being hounded this afternoon.
Today was so much better than yesterday, and I didn’t want to ruin it.