When He's Dirty (Walker Security Adrian’s Trilogy #1) - Lisa Renee Jones Page 0,15
his warm chocolate brown eyes as he says, “Here’s a good reason to get to know me.”
I smile. “Okay. What’s the good reason?”
“I tell bad jokes and I laugh at them so you don’t have to.”
But I do indeed laugh. “Okay,” I say. “I’ll bite. Tell me a bad joke.”
“You didn’t think that was a joke?”
“You can do better,” I challenge, surprised at how easily I’ve relaxed into the moment with a man I’ve only just met.
“Okay,” he says. “You asked for it.” He pretends to roll up his non-existent sleeves, and I notice the skull in the midst of a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. He sips his coffee. “Butterscotch,” he says. “I like it. I’m inspired to tell a really stupid joke.” I smile and he adds, “We’re in Texas A&M joke territory so that’s where I’m headed. Did you hear about the Aggie who won a gold medal at the Olympics? He was so proud of it he got it bronzed.”
I laugh. “That was indeed cheesy.”
“I specialize in cheesy. And it did make you laugh.”
“Yes. Thank you. I needed that, actually.”
He leans in closer, sobering as he does. “About our timing.”
Our timing, I repeat in my mind. There is something about the way he represents us as one that does funny things to my belly. “What about it?” I ask.
“I’ve learned that now is always better than later. There might not be a later.”
He hits ten nerves all at once. “Exactly,” I whisper rather fiercely. “I want you to have a later. And me, too.”
His eyes narrow, sharpen. “What does that mean? Talk to me, Pri.”
“I don’t even know you,” I remind him. “And you don’t know me.”
“I want to know you. Do you want to know me?”
He wants to know me. I want to know him. Instead, I say, “I told you. Now is not a good time.”
“Now is exactly the right time. Do you want to know me?”
“I don’t know if I can trust you.”
He studies me a long moment, his eyes never leaving my face. “I work for Walker Security. Check us out.” He picks up a pen and scribbles information on the napkin. “That’s us,” he says, sliding the napkin in front of me. “I gave you our company name and Blake Walker’s number. He’s one of the founding brothers and my direct boss. He’ll be easy to check out. He’s widely respected, even as high up as the White House.”
“White House?” I ask, ever so curious now. “What exactly does Walker do?”
“We handle protection, recovery, even airport security, and supplement law enforcement investigations at all levels. Check the references.”
“Even if I do, and they’re all wonderful, that doesn’t mean you, or people around you, can’t be bought.”
He tilts his head, and quite astutely says, “You think someone close to you is dirty?”
“The defendant loves to turn good people into bad people, including law enforcement. Witnesses in protective custody have died. Others are running scared. What do you think?”
“And you think you’re a target?”
“An FBI agent told me to watch my back because I could be a target today. So yes, I do.”
“I’m ex-FBI. That doesn’t mean you’re a target. It could be a power trip. It could be pure caution. If there was a real threat, you’d be under protective custody. What does the DA say?”
“He says to win the battle. We have to win. And I don’t disagree. It’s the King Devil of the Devils biker club. He’s bad, really bad. Evil, even.”
He studies me a moment, no perceivable reaction as I might expect. In fact, all he says is, “Are you going to make him pay?”
“Yes,” I say, firming my words, wanting to convince us both. “I am.”
Approval lights his eyes, and his mouth, which has been on my mouth, curves. “Then let’s eat a cookie and celebrate.”
“The cookie is for the pre-trial stress. The jury giving him life and a hundred years is a champagne celebration.”
“Well then, it’s a date. Champagne to celebrate.”
A date, I think. That is somehow so much more than a kiss in the bathroom. “I doubt you’ll be around when this is over,” I say, sipping my coffee. “If we’re lucky, we’ll be done by Thanksgiving, but I doubt it.”
“I’ll be here,” he promises, taking a bite of his cookie and I do the same, before he says, “Hmm. Damn good cookie. I forgot how good everything tastes in Texas.” His lips quirk and it’s clear that he’s not talking about