Page 39 of Lawless in Leather

Chapter Nine

Raina undid the lock on her apartment door and pushed it open with a hand that was relatively steady. She’d been afraid that she might fumble her keys or something. She’d driven them from Madame R to her apartment. Mal had pointed out that leaving her truck on the street was just an invitation if there really was someone out there targeting her. And her apartment building came with a tiny parking lot that she could just squeeze Rose into.

But she didn’t really remember much about the actual drive. She’d been far too aware of the man filling the passenger seat to focus on anything else. She was used to driving alone most of the time so it was odd to have someone with her, but it wasn’t just the fact that she had a passenger that was making her nervous. No, that was down to who her passenger was.

Mal took up a lot of space. Her truck was big but he made it feel tiny. The cabin smelled like him. Male. Spicy. A hint of the odd mix of alcohol and crowds and greasepaint and candle smoke that she associated with the club still hung around, but mostly the scent of him enveloped her.

The same smell that had surrounded her and soaked into her skin when she’d kissed him.

And now he wasn’t just in her truck, he was about to walk into her apartment. For a drink. Not sex. She’d told him that.

But now she had no idea if she was happy with that plan or not.

She held the door as he walked through, keeping an eye out for Wash in case he made one of his infrequent attempts to break for freedom. But no huge gray fuzzball appeared so she followed Mal into the apartment and shut the door, locking it behind them. The apartment was in a slightly nicer part of town than the club—it was strange what the distance of a few blocks could do in a city—but it wasn’t all that much better. Still, it was affordable and close to Madame R, so it was fine as far as she was concerned. Plus it was about three times the size of the biggest apartment she’d ever had in Manhattan, so that was a bonus.

She dropped her keys into the vintage soap dish on the console table by the door and hung her bag and coat over the hook next to it.

As she turned back, she heard a thump and a chirrup as Wash jumped down from wherever he’d been sleeping and came to investigate.

He saw Mal and the chirrup changed to a more demanding meow.

Mal’s eyebrows rose as he spotted the cat. “Well, he’s not the runt of the litter, is he?”

Raina shook her head and bent to scoop Wash up. “He’s a Maine Coon, they’re big.”

“He’s bigger than my last dog. Heck, he’s almost bigger than you.”

She ignored that last part. “You had a little dog?” she asked. Mal seemed more the big-dog type. The kind to own a shepherd or a golden or something.

“Einstein. He was a Boston terrier,” Mal said. “I kind of inherited him from a friend. He was a cool little dude.”

“Was?”

“He died about a year ago.” Mal’s face went shuttered for a moment.

Her grip on Wash tightened reflexively, which made him chirrup a protest. “I’m sorry.”

“He was fifteen. It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. It never was, she knew that. Thank God Wash was only two. “You don’t have a dog now?”

He shook his head. “I’m barely home at the moment. It wouldn’t be fair. Maybe one day.”

She nodded. And half kicked herself for asking. Dead pets were hardly the sort of thing she’d expected to discuss with Mal. “So,” she said. “How about that drink?” She put Wash down. He promptly stalked over to Mal and sat at his feet, peering up at him with golden eyes.

Mal peered down, looking amused. “What’s up, cat?”

“His name is Wash,” Raina said. Wash sniffed Mal’s leg, then rubbed himself quite deliberately across Mal’s dark pants, leaving a trail of pale fur before heading for the kitchen. There he took up position beside his bowl with a demanding mrrrrooowwww.

Raina shrugged an apology at Mal and followed Wash. After scooping a suitably Wash-sized portion of food into his bowl, she took out two scotch glasses from the cabinet. One drink. Just one drink. Then she’d send him home.

“Ice?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She made the drinks and shepherded him into her living room. Her sofa was small, more a love seat. So she took the spindly-legged pink velvet armchair and waved Mal to the sofa.

Then bounced back up to go to her computer and put on some music.

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