She wouldn't report to him, but it didn't seem worth arguing over, so she made a noncommittal sound of acknowledgment.
They were on the road a few minutes before she remembered the T-shirts in the backseat. "Taking your laundry somewhere?"
Distracted, he glanced at her, caught her meaning and grinned. "Those are for you. You'll be with the team tomorrow, so you need an official shirt. I brought a few different ones for you to choose from." Pretending to be stern, he added, "Most of the chicks wear them really tight and low. But I don't want to have to beat the guys away with a baseball bat, so the shirts I brought for you are crew necked. Hope that's okay."
Better than okay, it was preferable. "Thank you." She gestured at the shirts. "May I?"
"Sure."
She reached back and pulled four shirts into her lap. Two were black, one gray and one white. Each had a wolf head on the front. She read aloud, "‘Howl for the Wolf.'"
"That's Stack. We'll all be rooting for him." He winked at her. "Now you're official."
"Why do they call him the Wolf?"
Justice laughed.
"There's a joke?"
"Nah, see, there're two meanings behind the name and I'm not sure you want to hear them both."
"But I do," she insisted.
He glanced at her two more times before shrugging. "All right then. He got the fight name because of the way he stalks his prey in the cage."
"Ah, like a wolf. I get it."
Justice's grin widened. "It was a good, legit, badass name. But then a bunch of ladies started rumors, and now most say he's called Wolf because of how he makes women howl in the bedroom."
Fallon blinked in surprise-and felt her mouth twitch. "You're serious?"
"Yup. Old Stack used to be a real player. That was before Vanity, though." He tried to put on a straight face as he said, "Now he only makes her howl."
When Fallon snickered, Justice laughed with her.
It felt...nice. Casual and easy. So very different from her relationship with Marcus, which despite their longer association had always felt somehow superficial, too polite and proper. "Now that I know, I'm going to feel silly wearing the shirt."
"Even guys will wear some version of it, so don't give it a thought. I'll be wearing the gray one."
"Okay, then I'll choose the black one." It had short sleeves, but that suited her. "With jeans?"
"Perfect."
For the rest of their drive, Justice detailed what she should expect at the venue. It would be a late night with a lot of raucous men in close quarters and, according to Justice, women hoping to "hook up" who would probably attend the after party at Rowdy's bar.
It all sounded very exciting, and yes, very fun.
She could hardly wait.
HE HUNG BACK, keeping his distance until they finally parked near the river. So they'd be doing the river walk? That could take all day. Perfect.
Turning the car around, he went back the way they'd come. With them occupied, he'd have time to visit both residences.
He tightened his hands on the wheel and thought about things-then decided exactly what to do.
IT WAS LATE when Justice brought Fallon home.
Today more than any other day, she'd been so damned hard to resist. Maybe because she was so natural, so sweet, and her smiles, man those smiles, they nearly did him in. He loved seeing her happy, relaxed. For much of the day, he'd barely been able to take his eyes off her.
They'd walked for miles and miles, and neither of them had complained. He enjoyed the way Fallon had appreciated each spring flower, cloud formations and various animals they encountered on the trails. She seemed to see everything, in ways he hadn't before.
Not until she showed him.
In one of the more wooded sections of the hike, he'd overturned a fallen log and found her a salamander. She'd admired it from five feet away, making him laugh. When she insisted he carefully replace the creature and the log, his heart had squeezed with a weird sensation of...respect. Yeah, he respected her. A lot. She was rich, but compassionate. Pampered, but vulnerable. Sweet, but also amazingly sexy.
They'd eaten picnic-style along the riverbank; hot dogs and bagged chips and cold colas had never tasted so good. He should have chosen a shadier spot, given her now-pink nose and cheekbones, but she hadn't protested. Some geese swam by, frogs occasionally sang and tiny fish glittered in the shallower water along the shore. Butterflies had been everywhere and the air smelled good, like wildflowers, water and...Fallon.
He taught her how to skip rocks and how to overhand throw. She wasn't very good at either, but they'd done a lot of laughing. Before they left, she'd chosen a smooth rock as a souvenir.
A rock. It still astounded him, and made her even more endearing.
Though the air had cooled now, they were both a little sweaty. Justice couldn't remember the last time he'd taken so much pleasure in a day-hell, a week.
Something about Fallon made it impossible for him to be detached. The way she saw the world and her happy outlook, the simple joy she took in the smallest things, affected him.
And yeah, he liked the way she looked at him. She might not realize it, but she wore her heart on her sleeve. If she'd been anyone else, anyone other than a client, maybe someone just a tad more experienced, he'd have already made a move on her.
Instead, he'd repeated the facts in his head like a litany.
Client, innocent, inexperienced. Those three things made her as taboo as a woman could get.
Didn't stop him from thinking things, but for the most part it did help him to keep those thoughts to himself...and his hands off her.
The glow of the headlights from the SUV bounded around the area as he turned into her private drive-and that's when he saw it. At first glance he thought it was blood.
Everywhere.
Then he realized it was too bright, and the arcing splatter looked as if someone had literally thrown it from a paint can. He stopped the car.
Fallon, who'd looked to be dozing, her eyes closed, her mouth curled in a serene smile, turned to him. "What's the matter?"
Justice hated to ruin her day, but there was no way around it. He couldn't pull into the drive without getting the paint on the tires and further spreading it. He drew a slow breath and nodded at the destruction. "Someone is playing vandal, and I'm betting I know who it is."
CHAPTER SEVEN
WIDE-EYED, FALLON started to open her car door.
Justice stopped her. "No. It could be a trap."
"A trap?" She looked shocked, unable to understand the concept.
Already backing out, Justice said, "We can't drive through, so it stands to reason we'd get out of the car. That could be the whole point."
She scoffed, but didn't argue. Justice drove farther down the road to the start of an upscale community, then pulled over to the side. Leaving the car running, he locked the doors and used hands-free dialing on the SUV's Bluetooth to dial 911.
"Is that necessary?" Fallon quickly asked. "It seems like such a fuss."
"It's necessary." As soon as he finished talking to the police, who promised to meet him shortly back at the house, he dialed the agency. Everyone was gone for the day, but he left a message that Sahara would get first thing in the morning.
Next he insisted on calling her mother.
"She'll be in bed."
"Probably. But won't you feel better once you know she's okay?"
Clearly she hadn't considered any other possibility, but as soon as he mentioned it, she agreed.
Mrs. Wade answered on the third ring, and she did indeed sound half-asleep.
"Mom?" Fallon said in a rush. "Are you okay?"
More alert, her mother said, "Fallon? What's wrong?"
Justice sighed and took over. "Everyone is okay, Mrs. Wade. Did we wake you?"
Bemused to realize she was on speaker, Mrs. Wade cleared her throat. "Yes. I'm sorry. What time is it?"
"It's late. I was just bringing Fallon home, but someone vandalized your entryway. There's red paint everywhere. I'm going to speak to the police, and then I'll walk her up to the door and arrange for someone to come clean it so it doesn't get tracked anywhere else."
There was a startled silence before Mrs. Wade said, "I'll be right there!"
"No," Justice insisted. "Let the cops do their thing first. They need to make sure no one is hanging around, and they might want to take a few pictures or something. I'll let you know when they're done."
"Oh, yes, I guess that makes sense." She paused. "Red paint, you said?"
"That's what it looks like to me." Justice assumed it was supposed to look like blood. But whatever idiot did it had no real clue how spilled blood should look.
Lights flashed behind them as a police car pulled up.
Justice said, "The cops are here. Gotta go. But I'll let you know what's happening as soon as I know."
It was another hour before Justice finally walked Fallon up to her front door. He'd left the car on the street and together they'd edged around the mess. A twenty-four-hour cleanup company would arrive shortly.
He would stay until the job was done, but he wanted to get Fallon inside, and let her mother get back to bed.
Mrs. Wade greeted them the second they got close, then she insisted that Justice come in.