A Perfect Storm(24)

"I know most weapons," she agreed as she sat down beside him. "But knives are my favorite."

And the knife she favored most was one he'd already purchased for  himself. The irony leveled him; love of a quality blade was one more  thing they had in common.

"Soon as I can save up enough coin, I'm going to get it."

The contrasts left Spencer reeling. She sat beside him, young and, at  the moment-while discussing weapons-very sweet. She was so intrinsically  female, her face animated and her tone light … but she talked about  buying a highly lethal weapon that, if pressed, she would use against a  deadly goon.

Her thigh touched his. Her intoxicating scent filled his head.

And she wanted to debate who had the right to vengeance.

Determined to set her straight, he drew her back up to her feet, his  hands on her shoulders, his expression stern-and his cell phone rang.

Damn. He waffled-but he knew he couldn't ignore it.

Shifting away from him, she lifted a brow. "Expecting a call?"

"Not really." Spencer glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Trace.  Frustrated at the interruption, he answered with a succinct, "I'll call  you right back."

Without a single question, Trace said, "Meet me downstairs instead." And he disconnected.

Well, hell. Definitely interrupted. "Sorry."

Arizona's eyes narrowed.

Spencer ignored her curiosity to say, "We need to get some dinner before we start tonight."

She transferred her gaze from his face to the phone in his hand and back  to his face-but she didn't press him for info. "Dinner before we head  to a bar and grill?"

His blood ran cold. Again. "God Almighty, Arizona. Tell me you don't eat there."

Batting her eyes at him, she said, "You think they might poison me?"

How the hell had she survived so long? "Poison you, no. At the moment they don't want you dead. But drug you? Yes."

"Yeah, well, for the purposes they'd intend, the two would be about the  same." She sniffed. "But no, I don't eat there." And then with added  vitriol, "Give me some credit, will you?"

Knowing she'd just tweaked him again, Spencer growled. "Can you ever give me a straight answer?"

"Sure, and yes, we need to eat. I'm up for a burger if you are."

"How much time do you need to get ready?"

Now that she'd blown his cool, she smiled. "Twenty minutes, give or take  a few." She indicated her face. "Gotta do it up a little to make sure I  get attention."

She'd get attention no matter what. On top of an incredible body and  breathtaking face, she had enough attitude and presence to turn heads  wherever she went. She breathed, and anyone with a dick would notice.  "Will you promise to meet me downstairs when you're done?"

"Cross my heart."

He looked into her eyes, believed her, then bent and put a kiss to her forehead. "Kiss number two," he told her.

"Oh." She looked dumbfounded for only a moment. "Well … good. Glad to have that out of the way."

Just to prove a point, he kissed her once more, his mouth lingering  against her temple. He breathed in the soft, clean scent of her, letting  his nose touch her damp hair as he absorbed her near-electric vitality.

He had Trace waiting downstairs … and maybe that was a good thing. At the very least, it served as a deterrent.

As he ended the kiss and walked away, she remained rooted to the spot.  Satisfied with that reaction, Spencer opened the door and said over his  shoulder, "Don't keep me waiting."

* * *

TAKING HIS TIME, Trace studied the motel that Arizona had chosen, making  special note of each egress, including any windows that opened. He  prowled the perimeter, scrutinizing the lighting, the nearby  establishments, the ambiance, the traffic-and he had to admit, she had  good instincts.                       
       
           



       

He circled back around to the lobby entrance to meet up with Jackson,  who'd done his own surveillance. He found him standing just outside the  front doors, smiling, lost in thought-no doubt about his impending  nuptials.

He'd tried to leave Jackson behind, but given his close association with  Arizona, Trace wasn't surprised that Jackson had insisted on coming  along.

Though Trace hadn't wanted to admit it, he actually liked Jackson, and  truthfully, it relieved him that Alani was not only in love, but with a  man who could keep her safe.

Smiling, Trace clapped Jackson on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward.

"What the hell?" Jackson regained his balance and scowled.

"You came along to work, so clear your head, why don't you?"

"It's clear." Jackson's scowl lifted, and he grinned. "'Cept for when I'm thinking of my beautiful bride-to-be."

"Which is apparently all the time." Trace watched a couple head into the motel, made note of another man departing.

"Lucky for you," Jackson said, "I can multitask."

Together, they stepped into the lobby. "So what do you think?"

Jackson shrugged. "It's a place I'd have chosen for myself."

"Same here."

"I told you, Arizona's not a slouch in the mental works. But physically,  she's still a bitty female with more brass than strength."

"Spencer is keeping a close eye on her."

Jackson snorted with ill humor. "Yeah, I just bet he is."

Hmm. Trace studied him. "It bothers you that he's interested?" Not that  Jackson should be surprised. Most single men would be sniffing around  Arizona, and probably a lot of unfaithful married men.

"Not at all-unless he hurts her."

"And if he does?"

"I'll take him apart." On that foul note, Jackson stalked away to peruse  the interior hallways, the restrooms, the vending machine alcoves.

Trace watched him go. Since Jackson and Arizona didn't share a blood  tie, it wasn't quite the same as what he'd felt when Jackson began  chasing after his sister, Alani. But close enough to fill him with  satisfaction.

The satisfaction was short-lived.

Would Spencer inadvertently hurt Arizona? What she'd gone through had  left her emotionally brittle, but even the most thorough digging hadn't  uncovered anything in Spencer's background to show him as less than a  principled man. Knowing him now, Trace recognized the protectiveness  Spencer felt for Arizona, and for anyone else in need.

He was a decent man, a capable defender, and sadly, since his wife's  murder over three years ago, he remained free of commitments. If he did  choose to pursue Arizona, Trace had to believe he planned to go slowly  and carefully.

But Arizona … well, she could tempt a saint, and no one in Spencer's  profession, with his lethal background, would ever be mistaken for such.

Luckily, Arizona's trauma hadn't stifled her independence or her ability  to speak her mind. If she didn't return Spencer's interest, she'd let  him know.

And Spencer would respect that.

Trace trusted that they were both adults and could decide their own  relationship. But to be on the safe side, he planned to have a little  talk with Spencer anyway.

* * *

WHEN HE GOT DOWN to the motel entrance, Spencer found Jackson standing  there, frightening the locals. They walked a wide birth around him, and  Jackson, pretending to be inebriated, gave them plenty of reason for  caution.

So that was his cover? Figured he'd come up with something that allowed  him to act goofy. Jackson was one hell of a fighter, with razor-sharp  reflexes and an amazing intuition. But he was also low-key, laid-back,  and irreverent-which made him the polar opposite of Dare and Trace.

Trace had the vibe of a keen businessman with a deadly edge. He was a  driving force that couldn't be reined in-and no smart person would even  try. He wasn't cocky like Jackson, but he carried himself with subdued  self-assurance, and an acute awareness of his own capability.

Dare, who he'd met a few times now, was quieter, very matter-of-fact and  relaxed about his ability. He didn't say a lot, and he didn't need to.

Spencer liked them all. The more he learned of their operations, the  better he got to know them, the more he approved of their methods and  respected their influence.

Obviously Jackson didn't want anyone to notice him sizing up escape  routes. Shaking his head, Spencer looked around for Trace. He stood with  his back to the stairs, gazing out at the parking lot. Trace seemed  less concerned about being observed, almost disdainful of his  surroundings.                       
       
           



       

Bypassing Jackson, Spencer headed toward Trace instead.

He knew Trace was aware of him, had probably seen his reflection in the  big window, so he led off with, "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Trace continued to watch the lot. "What'd you tell Arizona?"