Hard Justice. Lori Foster
the steps to the SUV, Justice noticed she had some nice padding around back. There’d be no hiding that heart-shaped ass.
As she headed for his ride with a happy, brisk walk, her black skirt hugged her hips but swished around her knees.
Her face looked young, her body looked ripe and she behaved like a puppy just let off the leash.
Her parents treated her like she was ten instead of twenty-four. Overprotective much? Hell, it had smothered him to see the way they tried to harness her.
Somehow, Justice thought, he had to get a handle on the situation. He’d expected this to be an easy assignment, but so far, nothing added up.
In an effort to understand, Justice drew out his phone and pulled up the internet.
He was aware of Fallon Wade watching him before she asked, “Do you need privacy for your call?”
So even now she wouldn’t complain about his lack of deference? He should be focusing solely on her, but first... “I’m just looking up a word.”
She tipped her head. “What word?”
“Avuncular.”
The wind carried her laugh until it surrounded him.
Smiling, Justice asked, “You think that’s funny?”
Mirth danced in her dark eyes. “And a little embarrassing.”
“Because I don’t know the word?” It finally popped up on the screen.
“No, of course not.” She looked wrecked by his conclusion. “I was in no way judging you.”
That only made his smile widen. He didn’t come off as the most professional person and he knew it. “Then why?”
She faced him from a good distance away. “Because my father felt the silly warning was necessary.”
Avuncular: of or pertaining to an uncle, especially in kindness and manner. “Ah.” Now he got it. “So your dad was warning me against making any moves?”
“It wasn’t personal. Dad feels compelled to make similar warnings to everyone, even though it’s never been an issue.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d hardly need to hire you if I had a string of big, strong guys taking me out, right?”
“Oh, I dunno.” By the minute, she somehow got sexier. Justice didn’t understand it, but maybe it was that quirky smile or those subtle curves she tried to downplay. She definitely didn’t seem spoiled, and in fact was downright modest. “I think if you wanted it, you’d have plenty of guys hoping for a shot.”
Her brows went up. “A shot?”
Justice gave her a long, heated look. “You know my meaning.”
Her dark eyes widened. “Oh.” Surprise, then embarrassment, had her ducking her face.
Damn it, why the hell was he flirting with her? “Sorry. I shouldn’t have...” He shook his head. “Ignore me.”
Appearing both amused and confused by his attitude, she started to speak, and instead lifted her arms out to her sides and turned her face up to the sky. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”
Dark clouds rolled over one another and humidity hung thick in the air. He liked storms.
They made him horny.
Though this time, he wasn’t sure if it was the storm or the girl. “Sure.” Lengthening his stride, more than ready to get the show on the road, Justice opened the door to the backseat of the SUV. “You want to tell me where we’re going?”
“You mentioned a bar.” She bit her lip. A nice full lip, he couldn’t help but notice. “Is there one you’d recommend?”
Justice couldn’t figure her out. Was she a practiced flirt? Too naive to know how she affected him? For sure, she made him forget himself. He kept focusing on her mouth—plump lips and that shiny gloss... She waited for an answer, but he’d forgotten the topic. “One what?”
“A bar?” She grinned, putting dimples into those pink cheeks. “I’ve never been before.”
Justice took a step back. Naive then, and damn it, since when was that a turn-on? “You’ve never been to a bar?”
“No.” She leaned closer in a conspiratorial way, her face turned up to his, her tone teasing. “Is it fun?”
Could be, depending on her idea of fun. But if she’d never been before, why pick now, tonight, with him of all people?
Suspicion got the better of him. “What are you hoping to do at this bar?”
“Drink a little.” Her nose wrinkled again. “That’d be a first, too.”
Justice folded his arms over his chest. “You’ve never had a drink?”
“Wine a few times at galas, but that was long ago.” Though she still smiled, shadows suddenly saddened her expression.
Justice had the awful urge to comfort her. He resisted with stoic effort. “How can it have been long ago when you’re so young?”
“Twenty-four isn’t that young, and if you want me to be specific, I’ll say that I haven’t had wine since the night I turned nineteen. Besides, it isn’t wine I want to try.” The impish grin returned. “I want a beer.”
“Beer?” She made beer sound scandalous. Every girl he knew occasionally had a beer, even if she didn’t particularly like it.
“Yes.”
Justice rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, well, you can do that at every bar everywhere.”
She laughed. “Let’s see. I’d also like to dance. Maybe chat with new people. And I want to have fun.”
How the hell did she figure to do any of that when her daddy didn’t want anyone within spitting distance of her? A raindrop fell, then a few more...and Justice knew the skies would open up soon. He took her arm and tried to urge her into the backseat of the SUV.
She resisted. “I’ll ride up front.”
Taken by surprise, he did his parrot act and repeated, “Up front?” Clients never rode up front. Definitely not young female clients.
She stared at him with those big soul-sucking eyes. “Unless that’s a problem for you.”
The only problem, so far, was his reaction to her. But hell, as the client, she got to call the shots, so... “Suit yourself.” He switched direction, closing the back door and opening the front.
The raindrops began pelting the ground in earnest, so she hurriedly seated herself.
Jogging around the hood, Justice narrowly avoided the sudden deluge. He checked that Fallon had on her seat belt, then, instead of driving, he returned to her earlier question. “There are a bunch of bars in the area. I don’t know much about them, though.”
“Really? I thought most guys...that is...” Her cheeks pinked. “You don’t drink?”
“Sure. But usually I head back to Warfield to Rowdy’s when I want to drink and relax with friends.”
“Rowdy’s?”
“A bar that’s gotten popular with fighters.”
“Fighters who are your friends?” she asked with interest.
He eyed her warily. “Yeah.”
“I’d love to go there sometime.”
A hint? Was she another groupie hoping to hook up with a fighter? God knew they came from all age ranges, backgrounds and interests. “It’s a no-go for tonight.” Hopefully Ms. Fancy-pants wouldn’t insist. “I’d need to ensure first that things aren’t too chaotic before I take you there. The bar has some rambunctious parties.”