His gaze moved to her mouth, and he thought of the incredible things she did with it. "See the big guy two tables over? Heavyweight fighter?"
She glanced around. "I can't really tell weight classes-oh." Turning back to him and leaning forward, she asked, "What about him?"
"I have a friend who works for the Body Armor Agency. That's the bodyguard gig I'm thinking about taking. Well, my friend needs me to keep an eye on the big lug over there, so that's what I'm doing."
Accepting that, Maxi considered things, then asked, "For how long?"
"Until he leaves here."
"So you could be really late."
Gently, he asked, "Got somewhere you need to be?"
"Not really, no."
"So stay. Keep me company. Tell me where you got that name and what a personal shopper does. When it's time to go, you can follow me to my place."
Over the next half hour, between flirting, teasing and laughing, Miles managed to pry a little info from her. As a near stranger, she'd been hot.
Seeing her like this, less "on the make" and more relaxed, only gave her more substance. When Tom got a call and stepped toward the front door, away from the din of conversation, to talk, Miles said, "I'll be right back," and followed him.
People entered and exited the bar, so Tom paid no attention when Miles moved to stand behind him, close enough to overhear.
"Right now?" Tom asked, looking out at the passing traffic, oblivious to everything else. "Yeah, I mean sure. I can make it." He nodded, repeating the name of a ritzy neighborhood as if to memorize it. "I'm familiar, yeah. I'll leave now, but that's across town, so give me a little time." He nodded again. "Thanks, Kern. See you soon." He disconnected and turned so fast, he damn near plowed into Miles.
"Tomahawk," Miles said, after he'd backed him off a little.
"Damn, man, didn't see you there." Distracted and in a hurry, Tom shoved the phone back in his pocket. "What's up?"
"Nothing. Just grabbing some air." Feeling like a sleuth and liking it, Miles asked, "You?"
"Meeting with a few sponsors. Big spenders." Smiling now instead of looking glum, Tom whacked him on the shoulder.
Miles stopped him from rushing off. "Sponsors for what? Got an upcoming fight?"
"If I can get Justice on board, yeah."
"I don't think that's happening."
"Hey, these guys can be persuasive. So don't count me out yet."
Miles watched him go inside to let his friends know he was leaving, then rush back out again. Once he'd driven down the road, Miles put in a call to Justice.
While the phone rang, he thought about life changes, and he thought about Maxi.
He'd made up his mind. Tonight would be a celebration, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend it than with a woman who burned him up, kept him guessing and didn't demand much in return.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE RESTAURANT WAS LOUD, the conversation at their table rowdy. Anytime Justice got his mom and granny out together, they had a great time. He didn't like the way Fallon had withdrawn. When his mother noticed, Justice subtly shook his head, warning her not to mention it. Marcus had thrown a lot at Fallon today, not only the possible danger but also the way they'd most likely resolve it. She deserved time to think about it, and hopefully she'd come to the right conclusions.
Let me protect you.
He couldn't take his eyes off her-something else his mother noticed. He saw Fallon smile as his granny described the way she'd taught him to dance. Many a night before dinner, they'd crank up the music and glide around the kitchen floor in their socks. Fallon obviously loved the story, but her smile didn't quite sparkle in her eyes as it usually did.
When his cell rang Justice barely heard it, but he felt it buzzing in his pocket.
He glanced at the screen, saw it was Miles and pushed back his chair.
Feeling like something was about to break, Justice said to the table, "I have to take this," and stepped to the entry.
Miles got right to the point. "I was hanging at Rowdy's, keeping an eye on Tom as I promised. But a few minutes ago he got a call from someone named Kern and took off."
"Shit," Justice muttered, not wanting to believe Tom would be such a dick.
"He said it's about a sponsorship-for a fight against you."
Justice listened as Miles related the conversation. Like hell anyone would "convince" him. More like they meant to coerce him somehow, but that wouldn't happen either.
"You said he left?"
"Going to meet the guy."
Justice held the phone back to see the time. Nearing nine o'clock. Okay, not a crazy time for a meeting, but definitely not routine either. "Did he mention where?"
"Yeah, see that's the thing." Miles paused as if he dreaded sharing the rest. "Tom mentioned the same neighborhood where Fallon lives."
"That's too much coincidence for me."
"Maybe," Miles agreed. "But don't do anything stupid."
"Like?"
"Hit first and ask questions later. Be cool, okay? Just because he knows those dudes-"
"And is associating with them." Maybe conspiring.
"-doesn't mean he's guilty of anything. You've known Tom awhile. He deserves an opportunity to explain."
Justice indulged a deep, cleansing breath. It helped, but not enough. "Right." At the moment, the urge to destroy anyone who threatened Fallon burned hot. Unfortunately, he knew Miles had a point. "And pulverizing him won't get me the answers I need."
Moving past the idea of violence, Miles asked, "So what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to call Leese. Then I'm going to do my own conspiring."
SNICKERING, HE WATCHED from a safe distance away as Tom Nelson, aka Tomahawk, arrived at the destination. Like a sitting duck, Tom put his car in Park on the side of the road, ready and willing to wait.
As bait.
The big brute was far too gullible.
He had it all planned out, but several things had to align. Would Tom be patient enough? Given the prize, he'd wait as long as necessary.
Fortunately, only ten minutes passed before Justice Wallington's car came into view. Anticipation sizzling, he crouched beside the tree, the lighter in his hand.
Before anyone had arrived, he'd poured a generous amount of diesel across the road, followed by a trail over to where he hid. Once everything happened, it'd be easy for him to sink deeper into the lush landscaping. As always, he'd get away without a scrape-but the two fighters wouldn't be so lucky.
As a kid, he'd pulled this prank often. He'd found the panicked results of the startled drivers keenly satisfying.
With luck, the results this time would be even better.
As Justice's car drew nearer, he flicked the lighter, saw the flame dance, and at just the right moment, he put it to the trail.
In the darkness of the night, the red and yellow flame licked quickly across the road, flaring up just as Justice reached it. He watched the fighter hit his brakes hard, swerving sideways until the car slewed partially off the road and came to a shuddering halt.
Gleeful at that reaction, he hunkered down out of sight, listening for the woman's cries. Holding in his chuckles, he cocked an ear, waiting.
He heard only the hoot of an owl and the sound of the breeze playing with leaves overhead.
Nothing even remotely like female hysterics.
A second later the driver's door shoved open and the fighter emerged, one very pissed-off man.
In that brief moment while the overhead light glowed, he saw inside the car and knew the fighter was alone. Where was Ms. Wade? Her fear would have added nicely to this confrontation.
It didn't matter, he convinced himself. The results would be the same.
Predictably, Tom, who had parked only a short distance away, came jogging closer to help.
Fists would be flying in no time-he was sure of it.
As he faded back, he waited for the fun to begin.
JUSTICE STARED AT the slowly dying flame. What the hell?
Diesel, he thought, given the scent. He scoured the area, but the ritzy houses on this stretch of road sat acres apart from one another. Thick trees and high, manicured hedges lined the road to offer privacy.
Thinking he heard something in the woods beyond, Justice's eyes narrowed. He saw a shadow move and took a step in that direction.
"Justice?"
He jerked around at the shout and-surprise, surprise-found Tom jogging toward him.
Bewildered, looking at the flames, Tom asked, "What happened, man?"
Refusing to blow it by being too calm, or too enraged, Justice locked his hands down at his sides. "What are you doing out here, Tom?"
"Had a meeting, but the guy's late." He glanced at the car, still idling, with the ass-end over the shoulder of the road, almost in the gully. "You hurt?"
"No." Justice thanked God he didn't have Fallon with him. She, along with his mother and granny, were on their way home with Leese. Hitching his chin, Justice asked with lethal menace, "Who has a meeting here, on a dark road, at this time of night?"
Brows coming down, Tom stared at him. "Is this another accusation?"
"You're quick today, huh?"
Tom bristled. "I let you get away with that once, man. I won't take it kindly a second time."
"Take it any fucking way you want." Justice pointed at him. "Twice now shit has happened, and both times you're on the scene."