Banged Up (4 page)

Colby leaned her hip against the counter, drying her hands. She considered his strong, angular jaw covered by light olive skin and dark stubble. “Ah, so you
have
done many bad things in your life, huh, Macen Walker?”

“Just call me Mace. To answer your question: not necessarily. I just wouldn’t want anyone telling everybody what I’ve done in my lifetime. Good or bad. It’s my decision to tell.”

“Like why you’ve kept away from your sister for so long?”

“There was a good reason and I’d rather not talk about it.” He stood directly in front of her. “Instead, I’d like to come along with you and see this house which needs so much work.”

His offer caught her off guard. That was the last thing she expected. He stepped a little closer and for a moment she thought he was going to grab her. He was way too close for her comfort. She wasn’t used to being around strange men, especially ones she was attracted to.

Colby smacked herself mentally. What was she thinking? She’d just met this guy and all she could think about was how dangerous looking and exciting he was, all wrapped up in a sexy package. My God, just looking at him was making her lower body twinge, her panties dampen and her nipples pebble almost painfully. She was going to hell. She never had feelings like this so quickly. This was not like her. Not at all.

But he was Maxi’s brother. She trusted Maxi. And so far this morning, he had been nothing but kind and, for the most part, non-threatening. There was no reason for her not to trust him. Well, maybe she wasn’t quite sure why he had disappeared for two years.

That
was
a little weird.

It had been a while since she’d been alone with such a man’s man. And there was no doubt he was that. Men who caused a sexual reaction for her were few and far between.

But this morning, that’s all she could think about when she looked at Mace.

She opened her mouth to turn him down, but instead the words escaping her mouth were: “Great, but we’ll have to take your car.” She assumed he had one, though she hadn’t bothered to look. “I was going to ride my bike over.”

“No problem. We’ll take my truck.” He gave her a quick smile. “I’ll go get ready.”

Colby stared as Mace left the kitchen to change. The last thing she expected in life was for a mysterious man to come walking into it. And she felt she should be afraid, very afraid. Suddenly, her quiet little life, one she had worked very hard for, was going to get flipped upside down. She wasn’t sure she was ready for it.

And if he thought he was going to remain mysterious, he was wrong. She wanted to know more about Macen Jeffery Walker.

———

Mace parked his F-150 extended cab in front of the huge, looming old house. It took all his strength to close his dropped jaw.

The monstrosity was surrounded by overgrown, weedy rose bushes. The lawn was barren in some spots and overgrown in others. He tried not to cringe when he saw it, but Colby caught him.

“Oh, it won’t be so bad after a fresh coat of paint and the wrap-around porch is repaired. I have a landscaper coming in a couple of weeks to take care of the yard.”

Mace didn’t have the heart to tell her it needed more than that. The old copper gutters—blackish-green from weathering—hung away from the eaves in places, some of the shutters were missing and the rest—well, the rest should be just torn down. Hell, he could see the porch roof sagging from where he sat.

“You’ll have to see inside to really appreciate it.” She jumped out of the truck, and he followed reluctantly.

“Hmm. I’m sure.”

He really doubted it. What he didn’t doubt was how she felt about the place.

Colby’s face lit up when they walked through the wrought iron gate. Well, beauty
was
in the eye of the beholder. And that eye wasn’t in
his
head. He thought the house looked like it was the set of a horror movie. A “B” movie at best.

The only beauty on this property was the slender redhead walking in front of him. He was mesmerized by the swing of her hips. Even in those god-awful denim overalls she was fuckable. His cock got hard just thinking about it. Sliding into her tight dampness—

“Careful.” She took his elbow when they reached the porch and guided him cautiously, apparently knowing just where to step to avoid the rotting floorboards.

He was glad she was there to show him the way, because he was sorely distracted by her lips. When she ran her tongue across them unconsciously, he bit back a groan. Damn, he never got this out of control. But there was no denying he wanted those lips on a certain hard part of his anatomy. Hell, anywhere on his body would be good.

When they got to the entranceway, Colby stopped short, the smile on her face widening. Mace closed his eyes for a second, willing himself to behave. When he opened them again, the first thing he saw was the front double doors needed a good scraping and a fresh coat of paint. Even so, Colby ran her fingers lovingly over one of the oval, stained glass panels. His cock twitched with every slide of her fingers. He desperately wanted to reach down and adjust himself. But he fought it. Hard.

“Just look at these. I can’t walk into this house without stopping to admire these beautiful doors. I had the stained glass replaced in them. When I bought the place, almost all the windows were broken.”

Once he could think straight, Mace admitted the doors were pretty nice. But he couldn’t base his opinion on the house by the front doors alone; he was curious about what lay behind them. Curious whether the interior would be better or worse. Hell, it couldn’t be worse and not be boarded up and condemned.

“How long have you owned it?”

“The bank and I have owned it for five months.”

“I’m surprised the bank would mortgage a project like this.”

Colby turned to him in surprise. “Why?”

Mace felt like eating his words. “Uh, because it…”
Because it was a dump, and any
loan officer in his right mind would…
“Because of getting insurance on it. I bet it was difficult to insure something this old.”

“No. No problem.” She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She had insurance on it. Good. The best thing, in his opinion, would be to burn the place down and start from scratch.
If only insurance fraud wasn’t a federal offense
. He shook his head, following her over the threshold.

Later, Mace had to admit the place had character and understood why Colby loved it so much. She was doing a good job restoring it with the help of the contractors. But it was obviously going to be a long, slow process.

They sat on the floor in the empty, oversized dining room. Their “picnic” lunch was spread out on a drop cloth in the center of a wooden floor which was in desperate need of refinishing. Colby had packed leftover fried chicken and some homemade potato salad.

From what he could tell from the two meals she’d fed him, she was a great cook. He could get used to eating like this very easily. He was tired of eating by himself in greasy dumps or fast food restaurants. They ate in companionable silence until they were both full. But he wasn’t fully sated … yet.

With a food-induced contented sigh, Mace stared up at the intricate woodwork bordering the ceiling and the walls. At least the stained wainscoting, which lined the walls below a chair rail, was in decent shape and was not in need of painting. “This is a big house for one person.”

“Yep. But I love big houses. And I don’t mind living alone. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself now.”

He wondered about the “now” part, but he let it go for the moment. “I’ve noticed,” he answered instead, thinking about the gun she had stashed in her purse. She had brought it along, thinking he wouldn’t know. But Mace knew. It was part of his inherent survival instinct. Not to mention, experience.

He wondered why she felt compelled to carry it in the first place. He didn’t know many women who carried weapons unless they were law enforcement. So why Colby?

Did she feel unsafe around him or was there some other reason?

That would be something he would have to look into when—if—he got to know her better. Nothing like the present to start to get to know her better… “Are you going to fill up these rooms?”

He forced down another bite of salad, it was just too good. He looked up in time to catch Colby licking chicken juice off her finger with the red, pointy tip of her tongue.

Mace felt a throbbing pain suddenly, and it wasn’t in his leg. He thought about ripping his clothes off and showing her how hard she made him, but he knew it would scare the hell out of her. He had to be patient. Patience, ha, that was one virtue he did have with all the time he had working undercover. He knew how to manipulate and “work” a situation to his favor. However, he wasn’t on the job at the moment, and his cock was begging for release.

“I attend estate auctions whenever I can, along with the occasional antiquing. I think that’s the best way to find furniture to match this house. Don’t you?”

He blew out a breath, clearing his thoughts. He struggled to stay on the topic at hand and fought the urge to scream “Let’s fuck!”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant fill it up with family, with kids.” Talking about the future, family and kids was enough to get his horniness under control. Somewhat. He’d take what he could get.

“Oh.” Colby picked up a paper napkin to wipe her lips. “Someday, I guess.”

Mace wondered about her. Most women dreamed of their own home and filling it with family, right? Why not her? She didn’t really seem to care about the family part.

Maybe she was just too independent. That “now” part was really nagging in the back of his mind. He just didn’t want to push his luck and make her clam up.

She packed up the cooler and collected the garbage. She stood, brushing her hands on her overalls. “Ready to help me finish painting the kitchen?”

He wasn’t really. His leg was beginning to ache. And he enjoyed sitting back, watching her touch with a paintbrush; sweeping the walls with bright yellow paint like an artist on a canvas.

His painting wasn’t as neat as hers. After the first few smears, she had insisted on him rolling the center of the walls while she brushed the edges. He admired her though;

she worked hard and never complained. He had wanted to complain, but didn’t. He could stick it out as long as she did.

———

The light was receding quickly in the kitchen as the sun disappeared below the horizon. Colby stood in the center of the now bright yellow room, contemplating their efforts. Mace had better things to look at, like her fiery hair spattered with yellow paint.

Her body was reed-like even though she had matched his appetite bite for bite at lunch.

Her wrists were delicate and her fingers long and slender. It amazed him she wore no jewelry except a very small pair of gold studs in her ears. Her hair was the best accessory she could have. Jewelry couldn’t do her justice next to that mass of crimson fire. Fire he wanted to feel burning all over his body.

As she stood there, the thought of stripping her naked and fucking her hard, so hard, on the drop cloth, engulfed him. He turned away so she wouldn’t see any evidence of his unruly cock. This was not like him. He never was this out of control. Yes, it had been a while since he’d been around a female as innocent as Colby. No, not quite innocent, more like unjaded. A woman not involved in illegal activities.

“What do you think? I think it looks great.” When Mace didn’t answer, she continued. “Just wait until the new appliances come in, and the new counter tops. Boy, I hope yellow was the right choice.”

Insecurity laced her voice. For some reason her life seemed to depend on something as simple as whether or not she had made the right choice in paint color. If sunshine yellow wasn’t the perfect match for the new sink and countertops, she would be a complete failure.

“If it’s not, we’ll repaint it.” Complete silence enveloped him. He turned to look at her. Her expression of horror concerned him; almost like he’d just attacked her. He moved behind her to place his palms on her shoulders, rubbing them softly. “Yellow’s going to look great.” He trailed his hands up to her neck, his thumbs stroking the slender muscles under the soft skin.

Her smile returned as quickly as it had left and she pulled away from him to walk out of the room. She chattered away about the wall colors of the other rooms. Mace just shook his head and sighed. She was either oblivious or trying to ignore the fact some sort of spark existed between them.

But one thing was clear; she was burying herself in this house for a reason. It was the same reason she added the “now” to her
she could take care of herself
declaration. There was a fresh wound there somewhere. Physical, mental, he couldn’t tell yet.

Of course people took pride in their homes, but she was a little too fixated. He was determined to find out why. He wanted to know more about Ms. Colby Parks. In more ways than one.

Chapter Three

Mace slept through most of Sunday morning. He awoke sore from the previous day of painting, and by the time he got his lazy, aching bones out of his comfy bed, the house was empty. Colby had left a note on the bathroom door, which he found during an early morning piss. The message said she had gone out to an estate sale with a friend and they were going to hit some yard sales on the way. She hoped he didn’t mind her borrowing his truck. Well, hell. That was pretty ballsy of her.

At the same time, Colby absconding with his truck just gave him an excuse to crawl back in bed. Now, a couple hours later, he was still just being a lazy shit in his cozy nest of covers. If she was smart, she would have slept in too. Hell, if he was smart, he would have woken up with her in his arms, preferably naked, and started the day off right. But no. Instead, he lay on his mattress by his lonesome; his only company his morning, or more like mid-morning, wood.

He slid a hand down past the elastic of his boxer briefs and straightened out his hardon.

Damn. Doing it himself just wasn’t the same. It was like settling for an after-dinner mint when you really wanted dessert.

He rolled over toward his nightstand and came face-to-face with the photo of his late parents. He cursed and slammed the framed picture face down. Just what he needed: his parents watching him relieve some sexual tension. He’d worried enough about them catching him when he was a teenager. He was never quite caught in the act; there had been some close calls, though. Too many to count.