BAD Beginnings Page 2

  “They’re just tattoos. It’s not a big deal.”

  She ran her nibbled fingernails over the serpentine dragon on his chest, her fingers scraping his nipple. His muscle involuntarily jerked.

  “Why a dragon?”

  “It’s not really a dragon—it’s called a changeling. It’s from a game that came out about ten years ago--it can morph into whatever it chooses when in danger.” He probably shouldn’t have said the game thing, she’d think him a dweeb. He’d never played the game. Not even once. The idea of changing into something else—someone else—was the reason he’d chosen it.

  She licked her lips. The simple action caught him by surprise and sent heat through the skin she touched. He stepped back and pulled the new shirt over an arm.

  “You’ve had that the entire time I’ve worked for you?”

  He grinned. That would equate to approximately ten minutes, so… “Yeah. Is that a problem? Am I going to get fired?”

  She shook her head, frowning at the ink as he pulled the shirt closed under buttons. “As if I could.”

  “Come on, Gem,” he purposely used the nickname she’d supplied him earlier, “you’ve seen me without a shirt.”

  “Nope. Never. Why would I? You can’t stand to have your place messed up. I can’t believe you took that shirt and didn’t choose your own. Besides…” She put a hand to her mouth as if to stifle further words.

  He raised a brow and tucked the shirt under the waist of his trousers, thankful that he’d worn his work pants this morning instead of the torn jeans he’d considered.

  Gemma grinned and shrugged. “Sorry—okay, let’s go.” She turned and clipped out of his closet, not waiting to see if he followed. That suited Baden just fine because it gave him a chance to watch those perfectly toned hips again. She was a piece of art. And obviously hadn’t been too cozy with the boss, a good thing for him.

  Gemma tugged the door open and the wind rushed in, sending her scent over him in a flash. He breathed deeply, wondering how to end the identity confusion. Gemma chose that moment to bend and brush a leaf from her leg and he gulped. Oh my god. She’s perfect. She’s absolutely fucking perfect. I’m going. Wherever she takes me, I’m there. He was an idiot destined for a disaster, but that didn’t stop him from stepping behind her. Nothing could have kept him from following that ass to the car.

  Only it wasn’t a car, it was a yacht on wheels, complete with a driver. The man looked at him, nodded and opened the door. Not a word said other than, “Good morning, Sir.”

  Baden flashed a smile and patted him on the back. Though the man hadn’t welcomed him he added, “Good morning, it’s great to be back.”

  When the car door thumped shut, sealing them within the rich leather and coolness, Baden looked out the window. How long could he keep them deceived? What would happen when they realized the mistake? Why should he maintain the façade? He slicked a hand down the seat cushion. A cup of steaming coffee was thrust toward him.

  “Here you go. I’ll brief you on the conference call as we drive. Ready?” Gemma was already belted into the seat at his side.

  Was he ready? For a different life? If it meant a ride in this beauty with a drop dead eye-turner at his side—Hell, yes. He quelled the excitement and lifted the cup to his lips, scorching his tongue as he sipped.

  “Damn! Hot.” Baden forced a swallow and it burned down his throat.

  Gemma’s eyes widened. “Oh shit! I’m sorry! I forgot to add the cream. Are you okay?” Mild terror crossed her face and it occurred to him that his real self probably would have eaten her ass out about the burn. Which made him cringe for all the people this man had hovering around, scared shitless. The sight of the bloodied face from the night before passed through Baden’s thought and he pushed it back. What will the guy do when he finds out about me?

  “He already knows,” Gemma spoke softly, “and what’s wrong with your voice? You sound—tired.”

  “Who already knows what?”

  “You asked what he’d do when he found out about you.” Shit, he had said that out loud? She wrapped her hand around his fingers, holding the cup in place as she added a dollop of cream. Her hand was warm on his, making him wonder what other things he’d said as he stared. She dipped a spoon into the froth and stirred.

  “Oh, uh.” Baden cleared his throat. Think. “I think my allergies are acting up. My throat’s a little sore.”

  “Would you rather have tea with lemon? I can fix that.” She rummaged through the small cabinet next to her. A cabinet in a car? With a hotpot, tea, coffee—and booze? Even if it’s only for an hour, he could get used to this treatment. Other than he didn’t really care for her bossing him around, waiting on him hand and foot.

  He put a hand on her arm and closed the cabinet. “I’m fine. Sit back and relax. Enjoy the ride.”

  “We don’t have time to relax. I need to give you the low-down on this job. Are you ready? Listen up, because I don’t know if I can repeat it in the short time we have.”

  He listened while sipping the coffee, his eyes glued to the carpet so he wouldn’t focus on her legs, which were crossed in front of him. Smooth, silky skin with muscle tone that must be a man’s bliss when he touched—

  Stop.

  Gemma droned on about the conference call, spilling a half-dozen names of people that would be there along with some details about their business. Baden didn’t fully understand it and knew if he was expected to speak, he’d be exposed immediately. He knew nothing about whatever deal she was babbling on about. He’d had a little college, but that had been while he was in prison. And it was online, not classroom. It would be impossible for him to get up to speed on corporate babble-speak that fast.

  She uncrossed her legs and slid an ankle over the other. Hmmm. He’d figure something out.

  “So, let me ask you a question.” He took the last draw from the cup and deposited it back into its spot in the cabinet. She looked up as if stunned. What? Did the man never ask her opinion?

  “You want more coffee? Or maybe tea?”

  He laughed and her eyes widened. He focused on her face, aware of the shock in her expression. “When’s the last time you ran one of these meetings yourself?”

  Her mouth dropped. “What? Me?” Her hand trembled as she reached out and tugged the skirt in a failed attempt to cover her thighs. He liked those thighs so he was glad the skirt didn’t cooperate. “What are you trying to say, Mr. –”

  “Stop being so formal. You know my name, use it. I’m saying that based on what you just told me, I think you’re better prepared to lead this discussion today. I’ll take the backseat and you let me know if you need me. Okay?” Had his bluff worked? Based on her stunned expression, he doubted it.

  Seconds ticked away as she narrowed her eyes, appearing to question his motives. The car slowed to a stop in front of one of the largest, shiniest buildings in downtown. He looked up and coughed. Wow, he’d worked the garage of this building. The door whooshed open and he panicked. Would the man recognize him? They’d done this gig together several times. He stepped out, fully expecting to be outed.

  Nothing. Nada. The man welcomed them, closed the door, and moved to the car that followed. Holy shit.

  Later, Baden tried hard to keep his lids open as the voices on the speakerphone continued to impress Gemma with their corporate –crap. Based on the way they spoke, he assumed they’d seen her and while she ignored it, there was a shit-load of flirting going on. When he’d finally had enough of the conversation, he slammed a hand on the table decisively. “Okay, then. Guys, I guess that’s enough for the day. Gemma and I have plans and need to go. She’ll get in touch with you later.” He clicked the red button on the phone, hoping it was the hang up. It wasn’t.

  “Yes sir?” a smooth, male voice questioned.

  “Oh, sorry. Wrong button. Everything okay there?”

 
Silence. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gemma clicked another button opposite on the phone and turned to him. “So, what’d you think?”

  Seriously, you’re asking me? I think they’re a bunch of blow-hard assholes who want to get in your pants and likely think if they impress you with all their overpaid brains, they just might get there. Question is, will they?

  “I think they all want to date you.” He stood and stretched his arms above his head. He’d nearly dozed off several times and while it was a damn fine chair, sitting wasn’t something he did often. His legs tingled and his back hurt. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  “A walk? You’re thirty minutes late for a meeting already. We don’t have time to walk.” Still, she scuttled after as he headed out the door they’d entered earlier and stepped onto the elevator. When the door slid shut, she turned. “Seriously, what did you think?”

  Okay, he was pretty sure there was some sort of rule about touching employees, and he knew it wasn’t appropriate. Still, she’d had her hand on his chest earlier. In fact, she stroked his bicep with that dainty finger of hers and he’d felt it perk to attention despite his attempts to stop. If she had done that, why couldn’t he? He looked at her mouth, mesmerized. Nope, that was way too far. So, he put his fingers around her wrist, circling until his thumb spread over her pulse. He felt her pulse quicken.

  “You were amazing. They were totally enthralled. They agreed with everything you said so I can see you did your homework well. Oh, and I still say they all want to date you.”

  She rolled her eyes and balanced them on his—mouth. Which didn’t help the burn he’d experienced when she reached to her leg earlier. Geeze, he was in hormonal meltdown. It had to be all the fancy stuff around. He wasn’t used to it, the pampering. It was making him into a horny fool.

  “I don’t care if they want to date you. Will they sign the contract? Come on, you’re good at these things? Did I totally blow the deal?”

  She was asking him? That was rich. “I’m pretty sure they don’t want to date me and if they did, we’d have a problem. Except that one guy with the weird accent--he sounded like he might be interested, I don’t know.”

  Her mouth fell and she stopped breathing. No words. She closed it, then opened again. Was she in shock? “Logan, did you just make a joke?”

  The door slid open and he walked out with her still gaping.

  “You have a problem with that? Did I offend you?”

  The clatter of her heels told him she was short steps behind as they exited to the sidewalk with people rushing past. “You’ve never done it before.”

  “Well, I’ll try not to if it bothers you.”

  “No, it doesn’t bother me. It’s just—did you do something crazy while you were gone? Cliff diving? Bungee jumping? Hit your head falling? Some of that cheap cocaine maybe?”

  He huffed. Drugs? This guy was into cocaine? He shuddered. No wonder he had been such an angry bastard. His head was fucked up.

  Baden whipped around and furrowed his brows as the real Logan had done to him the night before. “I had a vacation, okay? Can’t a guy be relaxed? Do I have to have a stick up my ass all the time?”

  Gemma sucked in air. “If I answer that honestly, you’ll fire me. Let’s just say—relaxed is good. Great actually. I’m glad you pulled the stick out, even if it is temporary. Tell me how to keep you that way.”

  How to keep him this way? All sorts of ideas came to mind. Whoa, had she really said that? God, he wanted to answer. He wanted to give her a smartass retort like keep me up all night on those Egyptian cotton sheets back at the house. Or maybe just beer and hot tub suits me, how about you? She wasn’t the type to say those things to, so he kept his tongue tied securely in his mouth. Still, he cocked an eyebrow and lifted his lip slightly.

  Ironically, she had talked nonstop for the past three hours and now was silent. He assumed grasping for a clever response. Without any, she simply stopped following and Baden slipped his hands in his pockets and whistled as he strode along the pavement.

  For the first time since he’d entered the twilight zone of Logan Indiris’ life, he was free to leave. He should be elated. Or maybe relieved? Why was he dismayed to disappear back into his normal life and stop pretending? He glanced at the time on the bank across the street and realized that his normal life was once again--jobless. Nothing good about that.

  His boss had warned him on the first day that absence, or tardiness without notice, was considered a cause for termination. Parking cars was all he’d done since his release from J. L. Jefferson Correctional Facility, a job his dad had arranged through an acquaintance. He had tried to find something without his father’s assistance but failed. It was the only place that hadn’t done a background check on him, mainly because his father had vouched. The entire world had turned on Baden and he’d been tried and convicted for someone else’s crime. And lost his girlfriend in the process. Not to mention that every time someone so much as sneezed, he got hauled in for questioning. So what did it matter to let the old man down? Again.

  He rubbed a hand over the tattoo he’d burned into his left shoulder. It had been the first. Gemma--or Gem, as she apparently preferred--only noticed the changeling. Of course, it was the most dramatic. It was also the least significant.

  When he’d been accused of his first crime, he was certain he’d be released. There wasn’t any evidence and he’d never been to the store the police said he’d robbed. It would have been impossible to believe he had any involvement. Until they found an eye witness that pointed him out in a lineup and a cop that confirmed it. He was stunned. Complete strangers had chosen him. Why would they do that?

  The Truth Shan’t Set You Free

  It was embedded on his skin in red, white, and blue like a banner. It had become a part of him when the realization that certain people’s words mattered more than the average guy. For some reason, they were more average. A cop, a business owner--they were the everyday guy on the street that people listened to--not a seventeen-year-old kid from a low income family that lived outside of town and kept to himself. They looked at him and wondered if he would rob them. He wasn’t the one that made it to the Ivy League schools or the corner office. People judged his potential to become those things and said, no way.

  That had been an epiphany. He was the no-way guy, not the everyday guy. The realization forced him to accept that certain doctrines would never be his.

  The sun glinted off the floor-to-ceiling glass of the ten-story building beside him. He squinted at the reflection in it. Three people waited for the light to turn and allow them to bustle forward to their busy day. A woman in a black business suit with a cell glued to her ear, a man in a tie and white dress shirt presumably headed to a meeting, and another man in a suit watched the woman. They all had a life that he would never see—one that didn’t depend on the whim of others.

  Oh shit.

  He shook his head and laughed. The reflection laughed too--when he recognized the man in the white shirt—was himself.

  You could be this guy. You could be the everyday guy. How would that feel?

  The light turned to a green glow shaped as a walking figure, his clue to move. It blinked and beeped as it counted down to zero, signaling him to hurry and cross. He pulled his hands to his sides, turned on his heels, and strode back to the building. Even if it was only for an hour or a day, he wanted to know. To hell with the consequences. Why couldn’t he get his chance?

  Chapter Three

  Gemma Travis watched Logan stroll away, stunned at the transformation. It had taken two years to get the bastard to let her accompany him to meetings, and she had tried everything. Still, he’d been reluctant to allow her to participate and often sent her away. Today, he let her in the house and had her run the meeting. What the hell?

  She smiled at the bold way she had forced herself into h
is home. She hadn’t given him much choice when she waltzed in as if she owned it. With him out of town, she needed information and she had been able to do a quick reconnaissance. It had helped little and she was pissed. Nothing again.

  It had taken the precinct less than ten days to set up the identity she had used the past couple of years—she had taken all this time to get what? One piece of DNA evidence that loosely matched an item found on a single victim? It wasn’t enough, not even close.

  He had been meticulous about her job, allowing her to work yet keep a distance. Not just her, if she was honest. Logan never let a soul near him. Oh, he partied all right, and at those times he got pretty physical with some of the girls. They never showed twice and she presumed he had mastered the art of one-night stands. Or at least the art of dumping people before they became a hassle.

  Distance was mandatory with Logan. So when he took off on a two-week vacation with less than a day’s notice, she had been more aggravated than surprised. The aggravation had transformed to shock today. Something wasn’t right. She had no idea what it was, but she could smell a rat a mile away. This tousled, rough guy he came back as was a world away from the tight-ass who kept his entire life under lock and key.

  She tapped in some numbers on her cell. “I need to know what happened in Cozumel. Something’s not right.”

  “So I gather he’s back.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sort of.”

  “What’s wrong? He get even more paranoid? Don’t tell me he went back to making you drive separate and locking up his office?”

  She shook her head. A dumb thing to do since the woman on the other end couldn’t see her denial. “No, he’s—nice. Too nice.”

  The laugh on the other end annoyed her, so loud she had to pull the phone from her ear. She frowned. “Gemma, he had a vacation. If that was all it took to loosen him up, we should have figured out a way to force him on one a year ago. Maybe now, you’ll get this case moving. I heard the chief talking in our monthly meeting. You should know he wants to pull the plug.”