Page 30 of Loving Smoke

Except for the ones who invaded our home and gunned down my mother in cold blood. Scarily, it could’ve even been Smoke who pulled the trigger that hellish day. They all wore black ski masks so I’d never know their true identity, but it really didn’t matter because whoever the individual, it was definitely the Royal Bastards who did the deed.

Bolt crushed the cigarette under his shoe. “I better get back. They’re paying me to keep the bullshit down, not talk to a pretty lady.” Bolt hit me with that grin again, and for a split second I forgot he was probably going to be one of them too.

I smiled and held up the butt of my cigarette. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

The back door closed behind Bolt and I immediately stomped on the offensive cigarette. I sniffed my fingers and wondered why anyone even started such a repulsive habit.

I waited another few minutes, entered the back door, and made a bold decision. I glanced up and down the hallway, then escaped up the stairs leading to the second floor where Smoke had a room.

Time to put the second half of my plan into action. I gazed at the ceiling and said a silent prayer hoping for divine intervention. Although expecting help from a higher power for what I was about to do went against most religious teachings.

At the top of the stairs, I faced a long hallway the length of the building below with doors spaced out along the way. Since the others who lived up here were all downstairs I’d knock on doors until I found Smoke’s room.

I raised my fist, knocked on the wooden door directly in front of me and waited. A second later I heard the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door. Maybe a divine power was on my side after all, unless?—

What if he was entertaining? What if I was faced with a half-dressed woman, or a naked woman? Or a naked Smoke. Shit, where did those thoughts come from?

The door eased open and luckily only Smoke filled the doorway, although he was half dressed. Friend or foe, the man’s chiseled body took my breath away. My unruly gaze fell to his jeans half undone and hanging dangerously low on his narrow hips. He’d developed a tan from the strong Tijuana sun and it only emphasized the definition of his muscular chest and a long scar from his shoulder to his rib cage. Along with the scrolling tats covering his upper body announcing him as a Royal Bastard.

The visual of his outlaw tat jolted me out of my sextasy bringing me all the way back to the real reason I was here.

“Hey.” He seemed genuinely surprised and confused. “Is everything all right?” The concern in his voice jarred me—same as last night.

“Oh, yes.” I lowered my gaze. “I wanted to . . . I mean . . . I just . . .” I raised my eyes and stared directly into his.

Smoke opened the door wider and motioned for me to come in. I jerked my head over my shoulder, then tentatively entered the fully furnished, extremely neat space. The furniture was obviously new, since they’d redone the entire building including the second floor, but the neatness floored me.

Manny had a living space twice this size at the villa and it was strewn with clothes over the floors and dirty cups and glasses throughout. I often felt sorry for our cleaning staff tasked with straightening his rooms. Even my father left things laying around knowing someone would pick up after him.

I’d unfairly clumped all men into the untidy category but clearly Smoke didn’t fit into that box.

He pointed to the leather couch and I perched on the edge of the butter soft cushion, then played with the hem of my booty shorts.

Smoke settled on the chair opposite the couch keeping perfect eye contact with me. Because of his height and the length of his legs when he leaned forward our knees were almost touching.

“What’s up, you look rattled.”

“I was just working tonight and I got a little shaky. I started worrying about what happened last night, and that it might happen again tonight.”

“And you came looking for me?”

“Not really. I mean, I told Gina I was taking a break, so I went outside for some air, but it really didn’t help. Then I realized I never really thanked you properly last night so I asked Bolt and he told me you were up here.”

Smoke’s lips quirked up at my rambling. Perfect.

He jerked his chin at the t-shirt dangling from his fingertips. The one I hadn’t noticed while I was ogling his pecs. “Dropped a bottle of tequila in the storeroom and it smashed all over me. If you’d come two minutes later you would’ve caught me without my jeans.” He smiled full out and my ridiculous heart thudded against my ribs.

“Lucky me, or unlucky me.” I awkwardly cast my gaze to the polished wood flooring.

“I’m just happy you didn’t get hurt last night cause of that bullshit.”

“I assume the new guy you hired was because of what happened.”

“Exactly. I also have a pretty good idea who set it in motion and I’m taking steps to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Really. Could it be other club owners on the street who are jealous of your success and don’t like you stealing all their business?”

“Could be, although I doubt it.” He laid his large palm on my bare knee. “But like I said, you got nothing to worry about so you don’t have to be afraid.”

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