“It’s warm out. I’ll be fine.” When he didn’t move, she tapped his back. “Go.”
With a muttered curse that she heard all too clearly, he revved up the engine and peeled away from the curb. He drove out of the French Quarter, out of the city itself, through the night.
Shadoe nestled her back against the padded sissy bar and enjoyed the warm breeze blowing in her face, and the view of the broad expanse of Spence’s back, letting her mind wander.
She should be thinking about the case, or about preparing for her debut at the Wild Rose tomorrow night. Instead, she thought about how hot Spence looked sitting on his Harley, his muscled body showcased well in tight shirt and jeans. She thought about leaning forward and placing her hands on his hips, then his thighs, about how far her fingers could wander toward his cock.
She thought about a lot of things, none having to do with the case and all having to do with Spence. Her body flushed with heat, her nipples tightened, and her pussy quivered. Straddling a revved-up vibrator wasn’t hurting her libido any, either.
She was so focused on fantasizing about Spence that when she turned to the scenery again, she was surprised to find he had exited the main highway. They were on a small two-lane road, with bayou on either side. The nearly full moon cast a glow over the murky water, lending it a spooky quality. Myriad branches stuck up amidst the moss-covered creeks and ponds that lay silent as a blanket of liquid silver. Shadoe was afraid to breathe as they rode by, certain that the roaring sound of the bike would put a ripple in the otherwise undisturbed surface of the water. Of course, nothing shattered the eerie calm, not even the motorcycle flying down the narrow road.
She had no idea where they were, and didn’t really care, since she assumed Spence knew how to get back to the hotel. She thought about asking him where they were going, but figured since he was in such a surly mood, he’d probably give her a smartass answer, so she stayed in her own good mood and didn’t bother talking to him.
He finally pulled down a narrow single-lane road, lit only by the single headlight on the bike. Shadoe leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Spence, feeling a shade unsteady on the gravel road. When he finally pulled to a stop and turned off the engine in front of a lake, she breathed a sigh of relief and climbed off.
Shadoe took a few steps and looked around, inhaling the smells of earth and dark water and the mossy trees that hung over them like a sheltering canopy.
“This is lovely.” The bank coming up from the lake sloped, so she sat and pulled off her boots and stood again, letting her toes sink into the cool grass.
“Might be snakes.”
She arched a brow. “Then I guess you’ll just have to suck the venom out if one bites me.” She knew he wouldn’t bring her to an area where snakes crawled around.
Would he?
He smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the dark. “Suck, huh?”
He had to latch on to that one word, didn’t he?
“So what are we doing out here?”
He shrugged. “I needed a ride to clear my head.”
“What’s bugging you?”
“Nothing.”
“You just said—”
“I know what I said. Just leave it.”
She rolled her eyes. And they said women were hard to fathom. “You’ve been cranky all night. What’s your problem?”
“I like to come here to think,” he said, ignoring her question. He walked toward the edge of the lake and stared out over it.
She followed, curious to know what was on his mind. She was curious about a lot of things, actually.
“You’ve been here before?”
He nodded. “Lots of times. It was a slice of life I wished I had, but knew I never would.”
Then it dawned on her. “You’re from around here.”
“Yeah.”
She knew he had a Southern lilt to his voice, but she hadn’t been able to place it. His drawl was deep and husky—and oh so sexy—but she hadn’t detected any Cajun influence in his voice.
“How long have you been gone?”
“Since I was eighteen—so, about twelve years or so.”
“Do you miss home?”
Despite the darkness, she caught his frown. “I would never really call this place home.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was a roof over my head, but I stayed away as much as I could.”
“Why?”
She knew she was prying, but she figured if he didn’t want to talk about his past, he’d say so.
It took him a minute or so before he spoke again. When he did, he turned his head to her. “Sometimes it’s easier to stay away.”
“I don’t understand.”
His lips lifted. “No, you wouldn’t. I’ll bet your daddy loves you, treats you like a princess.”
She snorted. “I may not have grown up on the streets, Spence, but my life wasn’t all about tea parties and frilly dresses.”
“Uh-huh.” He turned and looked out over the water again.
And just like that, he’d labeled her. Rich girl, privileged, couldn’t possibly understand the pain he’d endured, the suffering of his childhood.
“You don’t know me.”
“Daughter of a military father. Your mother dumped and ran when you were young. No siblings. You went to private school. Other than a lousy mother, seems to me you had it all.”
Now it was her turn to stare across the lake, to remember the loneliness, the isolation. The expectations, the feeling that she could never measure up. How many times had she heard it? Felt it. Knew she was a failure no matter what she did.
At least Spence had been born male. He was leaps and bounds ahead of her as far as her father was concerned. She had been damned because of her sex from the day she was born.
“You don’t know me at all, Spence. But there’s nothing I can say to convince you I’m not who you think I am, so you just go ahead and keep thinking I’m the spoiled rich girl if it makes you feel better about being the misunderstood boy from the wrong side of the tracks.”
He looked over at her and frowned.
“I’ll be at the bike when you’re done taking your poor, pitiful walk down memory lane.”
She turned and started her walk through the thick grass. Spence’s fingers around her wrist stopped her halfway up the slope. She turned to face him. He looked angry. At what? At her, or something else? Someone else?
“You don’t know me, either.”
She cocked a brow. “Don’t I? I’ve run up against your kind all my life. Guys who think I owe them something because of this supposed life of privilege I led. You judge me based on my father and my address, but it’s you who doesn’t know me. You don’t know anything about my life because you’re too wrapped up in feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Then tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“About your life. What was so bad about it?”
Did he really think she was going to believe he cared? “I don’t think so.” She tried to jerk away from him, but he held firm.
“I’m serious, Shadoe. Tell me.”
He sank to the grass and pulled her down with him. Since he had a pretty firm hold on her arm, she had no choice but to sit.
And then he straightened out his legs, shifted his hands behind him, leaned his weight on them, and turned his head to give her his attention.
Disconcerting, to say the least, having a gorgeous man with deep blue eyes stare at you like that. She stretched out her legs and kicked off her boots.
“Okay, tell me what was so bad about your life.”
She shook her head. “I’m not interested in spilling my guts to someone who doesn’t give a shit.”
His lips curled. “How do you know I don’t give a shit until you try me?”
“Is this how you avoid talking about yourself?”
“What do you mean?”
“You turn the topic to the other person, make it about them so the heat is off you.”
Now he grinned. “Maybe. But we’re not talking about me right now. You’re the one all worked up over your upbringing, not me. So tell me about it.”
Shadoe disagreed. She figured Spence was pretty worked up about a lot of things, primarily about being back home. “I’ll talk about me if you talk about yourself when I’m finished.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way.”
“Then I’m not going to play.”
“Too bad. I think you want to talk to someone about what’s bugging you.”
She laughed. “There’s nothing bothering me.”
“Right. You’ve had a stick up your ass from the minute I met you.”
She lifted her chin, refusing to take the bait. “And you’re carrying more than a couple bags of chips on those shoulders.”
Now he smiled. “Nah, that’s just my natural charm, darlin’.”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Maybe that’s what’s on my shoulders instead of chips.” He pushed off his hands, lifted both arms, and sniffed. “No, no shit there.”
Unable to resist, Shadoe laughed. All the men she knew were so serious. She never knew any that could so easily make fun of themselves, and look so damn sexy while they did it. “You are something else.”
“That’s what they tell me.”
Yeah, he was definitely full of it. And evasive as hell, too. He had a great way of changing the subject. “Grange knows you’re from here, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“Despite the bullshit, it’s obviously painful for you to come back here. So why would he do that to you?”
“We’re not pussies, Shadoe. We all have to face our demons head-on. Grange knows that better than anyone. We tackled the past a long time ago. It’s done.”
“Is it?”
“For me it is.”
She looked out at the water, the serenity so compelling she could get lost in it, forget why she was here and what brought her to this point in her life. The way she drove herself, the way she’d competed with men since she was a child. And all because of her father. She often wondered if she was in this job because it was what she loved and wanted to do with her life, or because she had some driving need to prove to him that she could do it, that she could be as good as any man.
“If you don’t get it out into the open, it’ll eat away at you.”
She snapped her gaze to Spence’s. “Get what out?”
“The anger inside. It’ll distract you. You need to get rid of it.”
“I’m not angry.”
His lips lifted. “Yeah, you are. Is it Daddy or just men in general?”
She snorted. “Put your textbook away, Professor. I already went through psych eval at the academy. I passed.”
“I’m sure you did. But you’re still pissed off, and it’ll affect you on the job. You need to be able to trust your partner.”
“You mean you can’t trust me unless you know everything about me.”
“Yes.”
“Then it should work both ways, shouldn’t it?”
He didn’t have a snappy comeback to that. Good. Did he think she was stupid? Why did he want to know about her past anyway? The last thing most guys were interested in was listening to a woman drone on about her woes.
He couldn’t help her. Correction—she didn’t need any help. There was nothing wrong with her.
“I’m ready to go back.” She grabbed her boots and lifted her foot to slide the first one on.
“My dad was a drunk, my mom not much better than him,” Spence started.
Shadoe laid the boot down on the grass.
“Money was spent on booze for both of them, which meant my little brother and I went hungry. A lot. So if Trevor and I wanted to eat, it was up to me to find food. Most of the time Mom and Dad would come home from work, open up the bottles of beer and whiskey, and they’d be dead drunk and passed out by nine.”