Kicking the Habit (8 page)

Ace ignored him as he tried to figure out what the hell she was
doing up on that stage. She gave up on the Hand Jive and started jerking her
body about in short, choppy moves as though she were a robot. Apparently not
what the crowd had in mind, judging by the sounds of their booing.

Ace could see the worry on her face as she moved into another
dance. Holding her arm at the elbow, she sliced the air like a meat cutter on
crack as she pivoted back and forth, and back and forth. For God’s sake, she
looked like a damn sprinkler, twisting about as she watered the stage.

Ace wasn’t a religious man, but he couldn’t help uttering,
“Please, God, make her stop.”

“Dude, I already tried that. It didn’t work,” another man chimed
in.

Ace just kept watching, thinking,
Doesn’t she have a clue?
She was working the crowd, all right.
Working them into an angry frenzy as the boos and catcalls grew louder and more
negative. It was like a really bad reality show. You knew it stunk, but you
couldn’t look away.

A sheen of sweat glazed her forehead as the colorful lights
reflected off her face. He couldn’t blame her for being nervous. Her last move
hadn’t produced any better results. Next, she held her arms shoulder-width
apart out in front of her as she bounced and pivoted slightly to the left and
right.

Someone in the crowd yelled, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Not the
Shopping Cart. Who taught you how to dance, Sister? A grocery store manager?”

She smiled bigger, which Ace hadn’t thought possible, and quickly
transitioned into yet another dance. What the hell was this one supposed to be—the Lawn Mower? Her goddamn arm was going to fall off if she kept pulling that
imaginary rope so hard.

“I got something you can pull, Sister!” another guy in the crowd yelled.

Cece immediately let go of her imaginary rope and turned sideways
as she moved into a dance even Ace recognized: Michael Jackson’s Moonwalk. She
pushed off the toe of one foot while sliding the other backward across the
stage, then switched legs and repeated. She even added her own twist of
flapping her arms at her sides.

“Christ, don’t improvise, doll face. Ya look like a fucking loon
about to take off, and it ain’t pretty!” someone else yelled.

She quickly dropped her arms and faced the loud, rumbling crowd,
looking desperate. For a minute, Ace didn’t think she was going to do anything
but stand there; then she suddenly thrust her hands out in front of her and
clenched them into fists. Bringing them into her chest and then away, she
started a pumping motion.

That’s it?
Ace
wondered, hoping, but oh, no; he couldn’t be that lucky. Apparently, she wasn’t
done. She lifted her knees up and down and slid her feet back and forth as
though she were marching in place. “What in God’s name is that supposed to be?”
he mumbled more to himself, but the guy next to him must have heard.

“Where have you been for the past couple decades? It’s the Running
Man, and not a very good one.”

Ace glared at him. “Do you wanna live through
this
decade?”

The guy held up his hands and walked off, saying, “Well, excuse
me, but it’s true. Who doesn’t know the Running Man?”

The crowd cheered wildly, and Ace looked at the stage to see what
had them so excited. He clamped his jaw tight and gritted his teeth. Cece had
no idea that a woman with breasts that size had no damn business doing the Running
anything!

She paused, her face registering her shock at finally winning the
crowd over, then her mouth twisted into a beaming smile.
Oh, Christ Almighty, the crazy fool!
he thought, as Cece started
running even faster, her bouncing girls keeping pace with the rhythm of her
feet.

Little did she know that she wasn’t the one the crowd had gone
wild over. A group of strippers had slipped on stage behind her and looked as
though they were trying to help her get the crowd riled up by demonstrating
their own unique dance moves. The dirtier they danced, the crazier the crowd
became, and
… good freaking God!
—the
faster Cece ran.

The crowd started chanting, “Strip! Strip! Strip!”

Cece stopped running. Her cheeks flamed crimson, and her
expression screamed horror, but she didn’t flee.

That only spurred the crowd on even more. They repeated, “Strip,
strip, strip!” adding, “Take it off, Sister!”

Cece closed her eyes for a minute as if she were channeling
something or someone, and then she squared her shoulders and raised her chin a
little. With eyes still closed, she started swaying sensually to the music. Ace
swallowed hard. She might not know how to dance, but she sure as hell knew how
to move.

Her palms toyed with the hem of her sweater, slowly beginning to
slide it up and down her stomach, exposing more and more bits of silky bare
skin. When Ace caught a glimpse of her belly button, he clenched his jaw, not
knowing what made him angrier: her for being on that stage or him for reacting
to it.

“Oh, hell, no,” Ace grumbled, shoving his way through the throng
of lust-crazed idiots. When he reached the edge of the stage, he whistled
sharply. “Hey, Sister Spanky, I thought you weren’t a nun anymore.”

She jerked in his direction, her eyes springing wide. “Ace? Oh,
thank goodness! I mean, how did you know where to find me?” she yelled above
the crowd, a flash of relief crossing her face before she masked it and
straightened her shoulders.

“Come closer, and I’ll tell you.”

“Just so you know, it’ll cost you double for a private session,”
she said, obviously still playing her role as she sashayed to the side of the
stage, attempting to look sexy while salvaging her dignity.

Yeah, not gonna happen.

She’d moved way past that point when she’d started those hideous
eighties dances. If her sister could see her now, she’d be horrified. Although
that last bit, when Cece had started her sexy striptease, had definitely been
pole worthy … and that pissed him off even more. He waited until she was at the
edge of the stage and then grabbed her hand and yanked her down over his
shoulder.

“Eeeek!” Her makeshift habit fell to the floor as she hung upside
down, giving a new meaning to the words “bottoms up,” and the crowd roared with
laughter. “What do you think you’re doing, you … you … caveman!” She wrapped
her arms around his ribs and held on tight.

“I’m saving your scrawny ass.”

“You go, you Cro-Magnon warrior, you!”
the Amazon woman who’d announced Cece shouted.

Cece squawked but didn’t let go. “I
don’t need saving, and you so aren’t getting a private session now.”

“I don’t recall asking.”

“That’s right, dude, play hard to
get,” someone else shouted. The music still boomed and the lights continued to
flash, but the dancers weren’t dancing. Ace knew the entire club was focused on
the scene unfolding before them. He needed to get Cece out of there before
someone did something stupid.

“Then why are you taking me out of
here?” Cece asked. “I was just getting close to—uh, to having a good time.”

“We’ll talk in my truck about what
you were doing.” He started to walk.

“Wait—my bag.”

Ace turned around, scooping up the black scarf Cece had dropped.
“Hey, Blondie,” he shouted to the dancer on stage, who was wearing a set of
wings, a halo, and little else. “Trade ya. Wanna toss me Spanky’s bag?” He held
out his hand with Cece’s scarf in it.

“Wanna spank me for it?” the dancer asked.

“Sorry. I kinda got my hands full now.” He swatted Cece on the
ass, and she let out a yelp.

“Lucky girl,” Blondie shouted back as she tossed Cece’s tote bag
at him.

He caught it, threw the scarf up on stage, and then turned to
march out the doors. Only one guy had the nerve to try to stop him, but Ace
just barked, “Back off, pal—this one’s mine!”

“How dare you! I am not yours, Detec—”

Ace swatted her harder.

“Stop doing that!” she snapped.

“Then stop talking,” he ground out.

Seconds later, he pushed
his way outside and stepped into the night. The doors closed behind him,
muffling the crowd’s cheer of “Stick it to her, baby!”

“You can let me down now, Detective. You’d do well not to touch my
hindquarters again, or I’ll make sure Granny sticks it to
you
and puts a real tail on yours, you big oaf.”

Ace just grunted. “You do that,” he said, but he didn’t let her
down until he reached his truck and deposited her safely inside. He stared
straight ahead for a full minute before finally saying, “What the hell were you
doing up on that stage, “Sister Spanky”? I can’t believe you were actually
going to take your clothes off.”

“Relax, Detective. I wasn’t going to take
all
of my clothes off. And if you must know, I was there doing some
research for my new client. I wanted to gather information so I would be better
equipped to counsel him,” she said as though she’d rehearsed it a hundred
times. Probably had.

“Are you that hands-on for all your clients?”

“Maybe.” She looked down at her lap.
“This is all new to me.” Her eyes met his, and she sighed. “I am trying to do
what is right, Detective. To help the people who need me in the best way I can.
Is that so wrong?”

“Helping people isn’t wrong, Sister.
Withholding evidence
is
wrong, not to
mention illegal. And putting yourself in danger is just plain stupid.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about. Besides, I just tried Charity’s Tae Bo tape the other day. I’m sure I
could defend myself if the occasion presented itself.”

“Tae Bo? Yeah, that’ll stop a bullet,”
he snorted.

“Why
did
you follow me, Detective?” She shifted in her seat.

“Because you’re too stubborn to
realize someone wants you dead—”

“I told you I will not cower in
fear,” she interjected.

“—and because I knew you were
hiding something.”

“Well, then I guess you wasted your
time tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I did some
checking on my way here. Senator Sloan was a frequent visitor to this club.”

“Well, that’s hardly front-page
news.”

“No, but I’ve got something that
is
headline worthy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you notice how big those
women all were?”

“Well, yes, but models and dancers
tend to be tall. There’s nothing unusual about that.”

“They were really built too.”

“Oh, believe me, I did notice that.
Made me decide to up my Tae Bo routine first thing tomorrow morning.”

“And every single one of them had an
Adam’s apple.”

Cece blinked rapidly. “So, what are
you saying, Detective?”

“I’m saying that Woody’s is not a
strip club. It’s a drag queen club. Which means …”

She sucked in a breath. “Oh,
my Lord in heaven above!”

“That’s right, Sister. The senator wasn’t a ladies’ man; he was a
man’s
man. Looks like Senator Sloan was
batting for both teams.”

“Come in, Mr.
Parker,” Cece said, as she stepped back and welcomed her first client into
Cece’s Counseling Clinic the next morning. A gust of cool autumn air blew in
through the door as the large man stepped inside.

“Please, Sister, call me Benny,” he said in a deep voice, a bead
of sweat trickling down his dark cocoa-colored cheek, despite the cool
temperature outside.

“Only if you call me Cece.” She smiled, trying to put the man at
ease. “I’m not officially a nun since I didn’t take my final vows.”

“I heard.” He nodded. “Gotta say you look different without your
hat thing and black dress.”

“My habit and robes? Yes, so I’ve been told.” She self-consciously
touched the loose bun at the back of her head and adjusted the front of her
soft-gray cotton skirt and sweater set. She’d worn black and gray for so long,
it would take time before she was comfortable adding color, except for her toes
of course, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about that yet. “Follow me to
the sitting room. We’ll be more comfortable there.”

Benny Parker was a big, bald bear of a man. He owned Benny’s
Brewpub on Salvation Lane down the street from Millie’s Diner. Ace had had a
fit when she’d told him she was officially opening her clinic today and who her
client was. He’d busted Benny on drunk and disorderly conduct a couple of times.

Ace didn’t trust the man, but Cece believed that all people were
inherently good if you just gave them a chance. Because the detective had
refused to budge on his ridiculous vow to stick to her like a bad habit, she
had banned him from her clinic and ordered him to stay put in her apartment
upstairs.

She was smart enough to fear the warning shot she’d received at
the senator’s abandoned barn, but she wasn’t a coward. Scared or not, people
needed her, and she intended to do everything in her power to help them.
Including the senator, no matter how much the detective disapproved.

“I think it’s great you opened this
clinic, Sis—uh—Ms. Monroe—I mean, Cece.” Benny cleared his throat. “Not
all of us are comfortable opening up in church.” He sat down on the brown couch,
swiping his baseball cap from his head and setting it in his lap.

“Would you care for some coffee,
Benny?”

“Sure.” He nodded, looking relieved for the extra minute to calm
his nerves.

She took her time making his coffee from the small, open kitchen.
The downstairs consisted of a kitchen, a bathroom, a living room, and a small
bedroom that she was using as her office. Once, the house had been divided into
two apartments, which worked perfectly. She’d kept the upstairs apartment as her
own and turned the downstairs apartment into her clinic.

The house was fully furnished and donated by the town. She’d had
some money set aside from when her parents had died that she hadn’t touched
over the past nine years, so she had enough to get by for a while. Word got out
that she didn’t plan to charge people for her services, as she wasn’t an actual
therapist.

She was an ex-nun who knew right from wrong and good from evil;
that was all, but that seemed to be enough. Sometimes people just wanted to
talk to a good listener. People had responded to her new calling, and her
calendar had filled with appointments. Most people insisted on leaving donations
in support of the whole concept.

Cece handed Benny his coffee and sipped her tea as she sat down in
a chair across from him, with a coffee table between them. “So tell me, Benny.
What seems to be troubling you these days?”

“Well …”

A series of footsteps sounded above their heads.

Benny’s dark brown gaze shot to the ceiling, and he frowned. “What
was that?”

“Nothing. You were saying?” Cece waved off the noise and gestured
for him to continue.

He fidgeted with the hat in his hands and stared at the table
while he talked. “So, I’m this big guy, and I own this brewpub where, I admit,
things can get a bit rowdy.”

More footsteps sounded above them, followed by a loud crash.

Benny’s gaze locked onto hers. “No disrespect, Sister, but that’s
not nothing,” he said suspiciously, and she could already feel a psychological wall
creeping back up between them.

Darn Detective Jackson!

“I’m watching my grandmother’s dog
for her. I am so sorry. I promise that this will never happen again. Try to
ignore it and please continue.”

He studied her closely. “Let me be
clear. Mayor Evans said just because you weren’t a nun anymore didn’t mean our
confessions wouldn’t be confidential, same as Senator Sloan’s was, if you know
what I mean. Can I count on you?”

Her spine stiffened. “I know exactly
what you mean, so let me be clear. Mayor Evans might have donated this
building, but I assure you this business is mine, and I decide how I run things
around here. First off, I don’t take confessions. What happened with the
senator’s confession was purely an accident. However, I do plan to adhere to a
certain code of ethics. Anything you say to me in confidence during one of our
sessions shall remain in confidence. Is that clear enough for you, Mr. Parker?”

Benny smiled a genuine smile for the
first time and finally relaxed. “I like you. You got more spunk than I thought
you would.”

“There’s more to me than most people
think, Mr. Parker.”

“I’m beginning to see that, Cece.
And it’s Benny.”

The room upstairs grew quiet. Too quiet.

Cece stood and said from beside the heating register, “Good. I’m
glad we’re on the same page. You may continue. I’m sure we won’t have any more
interruptions. My granny’s dog knows if he keeps being a bad boy, I won’t let
him stay with me anymore, no matter how much he whines.” She firmly snapped the
register closed and returned to her seat.

“I had a dog once. Drove me nuts, but he was so cute I couldn’t
help but let him get away with more than I should have.”

She could totally relate to the “driving her nuts” and “so cute”
parts, but there was no way she intended to let her
dog
get away with anything. “Well, that’s why I don’t own a pet.
Something tells me they are more trouble than they’re worth. Okay, back to you,
Benny. You were saying something about being a big guy, owning the brewpub, and
things getting a bit rowdy.”

“Right. Anyway, I’ve been trying to clean up my act. Make my pub a
more respectable place with fewer fights breaking out. I kind of have a history
with having a hard time managing my anger, especially when I drink, but I just
can’t stand stupid people. Like that Mumfry Walker for instance.”

 Cece perked up over the
church janitor’s name. “What about Mr. Walker?”

“He’s an ornery son of a bitch. Oh, sorry, Sister. I didn’t mean any
disrespect.”

She didn’t bother to correct his use of “Sister” again, knowing
that some habits were hard to break. “That’s okay, Benny. Please continue.”

“Well, he’s always coming in and grumbling about something. He’s
ex-military and an avid hunter. Totally pro NRA—all that right to bear arms
stuff. Last time I got in trouble was because he got drunk and got into it with
Senator Sloan over his anti-gun stance and the stricter gun laws Sloan planned
to push forward if reelected.”

“You got in trouble how?”

“You have to understand, I’m not originally from here. I’m from
the streets of Boston, and I’ve seen too many deaths because of gun laws that
weren’t strict enough. I was a Sloan supporter and hoped that change would
finally come. Anyway, that night I had a bit too much to drink myself and
decked Walker before he could assault the senator. Wrecked up my place pretty
good.”

“What happened?”

“Guns were drawn and shots were fired. Cops got pissed. They
arrested me and had to shut my place down. It’s not the first time. They’ve
shut me down a few times because of the violence. They say this is my last
warning. Next time something happens, they will shut me down for good before
someone gets killed.”

“I see.”

“I can’t have that happen. My brother and I caused a lot of
trouble when we were young. He didn’t make it, but I did. My father moved me
here and worked himself to death to create a better life for me. The least I
can do is pay him back by saving his legacy. And also, there’s this woman.”

Cece smiled kindly. “There usually is.”

“She kind of reminds me of you. It’s Millie Sherwood from Millie’s
Diner, but she won’t give me the time of day. I come in every day for an early
dinner before I open my pub. I know she likes me too. Everything was going
great, and she was so close to saying yes to going out with me, but then I got
in trouble again. I’m trying, Cece. I really am. It’s just hard. I promised her
I would change my ways, but nothing I say works.”

Cece thought about what he said, and finally responded, “Actions
speak louder than words. I think you need to show her you mean what you say
through your actions. Learn to turn the other cheek when you feel anger coming
on. And stop drinking when you’re at work. It doesn’t matter that you own the
place. You need to set a good example for your employees,” she said calmly and
matter-of-factly without the least hint of judgment.

Benny’s shoulders slumped a bit, but he took it like a man. “You’re
right on the not drinking at work thing. It’s time I grew up, I guess. But as
far as turning the other cheek, I’m not sure I can do it on my own.”

“Then I will show you how,” she said without having to even think
about it.

“You would do that?” He looked amazed and hopeful and grateful all
at once.

“I’ll do more than that. If you prove to me you’re serious about
truly changing your ways, then I will put in a good word with you for Millie.
I’d love to see her happy, and I kind of owe her for a favor she did for me
recently.” Cece winked at him.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“We’re going to my pub, of course. You said you’d show me how to
control my anger when I’m tested, and what better place than at the source of
all my trouble?”

“What better place indeed?” She swallowed hard, having a sinking
feeling that Benny would be “tested” in a big way once Detective Jackson found
out what she was up to.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ace demanded the second
Cece came upstairs from her clinic to her apartment.

“My job. What I want to know is just what you thought
you
were doing, eavesdropping on my
confidential conversation, Detective? You really are a dog.” She arched an
eyebrow at him and stepped around him into the apartment, loose strands of her
gorgeous hair slipping from her bun. Damn, he wanted to pull out the pins and
plunge his hands deep.
What the hell was
wrong with her?
He ground his teeth.
What
the hell was wrong with him?

He grunted and followed her into the kitchen. “Someone took a shot
at you in the senator’s barn, yet that didn’t stop you from going off
half-cocked and infiltrating Woody’s on your own. If I hadn’t come along, you
would have been in serious trouble,
Sister
Spanky.
You really don’t see the danger you are in, do you, Cece?” He stood
tall and intimidating, with his hands on his hips, towering over her.

She sucked in a tiny breath, and her lips parted slightly as she
stared up at him with wide, innocent eyes. His gut twisted, but he held himself
firm. She had to know how serious this situation really was. She wasn’t
bulletproof, and he damn well couldn’t live with himself if anything happened
to her.

She took a deep breath and shook off her haze, responding with, “I
would have been fine, Detective. I am an adult and perfectly capable of taking
care of myself. And for the record, I do realize the danger I am in. However,
some things are worth our sacrifice if it comes to that. I owe the senator, and
I am determined to pay my debt to the society I live in by helping steer them
on the right path.”

“You’re really going to go to Benny’s Brewpub?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation and fixed herself a tuna fish
sandwich on whole wheat. “Want one?”

Oh, he wanted something, all right: to kiss her, throttle her,
lock her in her bedroom, and make her his own. Unfortunately, none of that
could happen. He blew out a heavy breath. “I could eat. And when you’re done
with that, what time should I pick you up tonight?”

She stumbled while making his sandwich but didn’t say anything
until she finished and handed it to him with a stiff smile. “That won’t be
necessary. Benny is picking me up.”

“Not on my watch, darlin’.” Ace’s nose nearly touched hers as he
added, “Tell him you’ll meet him there, or he really will be tested … by me.”

“Then I’ll see you at eight. Don’t let the door hit you on the way
out. Some of us need to get ready in peace.”

After Ace left, Cece locked the door behind him, grabbed a throw
pillow off her couch, and proceeded to scream into it as loud as she could.

The man was insufferable.

He made her so angry, yet he made her mouth water.
Darnit, why did he have to be so appealing?
It had to be because of the dreams she’d been having and the fact that it had
been a really long time since a man had done anything intimate to her
whatsoever. She wasn’t a virgin. She was a normal, healthy, warm-blooded woman
who knew what it was like to be made love to by a man. It had just been forever
since that had happened.

But she also knew she couldn’t afford to get involved with
Detective Alistair Jackson. The last thing she needed was a broken heart to
cloud her judgment. She might be taking risks, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew
she was in real danger, but she also knew she had to do the right thing, no
matter the cost.

Cece knew this wasn’t a real date. Ace was simply accompanying her
for her protection when she went on her mission to help Benny in his Brewpub
tonight. And, well, Benny had to learn to get along with the local law
enforcement if he planned to remain open and win over Millie’s heart. Even so,
Cece had spent hours going through her closet, looking for something to wear.