Tricks (Take It Off #6)(10)
Author: Cambria Hebert

Another sound came from out in the living room. I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure out what it was. But I didn’t know.

Yelling for help would only alert the intruder I knew he was there.

There was only one thing I could do.

Swallowing down my fear, I tightened the towel around me and reached for the handle on the door.

I was going out there.

7

Tucker

I was hoping she wasn’t going to be home.

Soon as I let myself into the apartment, I heard the shower running and knew that she was.

I probably should have taken the time to ask for more information about her. Like what she did for a living. Surely she had a job, but I didn’t know what it was. It would have been helpful in figuring out her daily schedule and hours. But it was too late now.

I didn’t ask and I couldn’t bring myself to really think much about it. This wasn’t about her. I didn’t need to know her to get this job done. In fact, the less I knew about her, the less I saw of her, the better it would be for everyone.

My eyes took in the room, focusing on the small but clean space. This is where my brother lived. This was where he spent his free time and his nights.

That insistent ache in my chest intensified and my heart squeezed. This was hard. Harder than I thought it would be. Not only was I staring at my brother’s life, but the life I knew nothing about. My own brother.

How could I let so many years pass without reaching out to him?

I’m sorry, Max.

Shutting the door silently behind me, I stepped farther into the room, my eyes taking in everything but really only wanting to see one thing.

You’d think I wouldn’t really need to see a photo of my brother, being that we shared the same face, but it wasn’t really someone’s features that make them who they are completely. I think I understood that better than most people because I did share my face. Yet Max and I… we wore them so differently.

Hopefully I would find the flash drive before anyone figured that out.

I skimmed the surfaces of the room, the coffee table, the small wooden bookshelf crammed with books. The generic art hanging on the walls of scenic views and ocean waves. The couch was solid gray with a few white pillows on each end and small round side tables flanked each end. The only thing on the tables was one lamp each.

There were no framed photos. No smiling couple images. Nothing really that told of the people who lived here. There were no hobby magazines. There were no movie cases on the stand beneath the flat screen.

I never stayed in the same place very long because of the Corps, but even I had stuff lying around that would have given some clue to the kind of guy I was.

I wandered over to the bookcase and leaned down, looking at the rows of books filling up the shelves. Most of them were on law and business.

Was this woman a lawyer?

Great. Just what I needed. Some opinionated, nosy, question-filled woman that was going to argue and pick apart every last thing I said.

Or maybe the books had been my brother’s. Maybe he had been brushing up on the law because of the things he was involved in. God, I hoped so. I did not want to deal with a lawyer right now. I stood up and looked behind me at the bar separating the living area from the kitchen. A brown leather purse was lying there atop a black briefcase.

I would find answers about this chick in there. I rushed across the room and in my haste, I bumped into the table and knocked it over. With a light swear, I caught it, but not before the lamp hit the carpet. It was made of silver metal so thankfully it hadn’t broken.

I picked up the lamp and the shade fell off, hitting the floor again. I swore a manly type of swear and then scooped it up and slid it into place.

What the hell does a man need a lamp for anyway? That’s what the lights in the ceilings were for.

I started toward the bag on the counter once more when the door across the room swung open and a woman came barreling out. She was nothing but a blur of movement, forcefully rushing forward as a cry of determination ripped from her throat.

Before I could ask her what the hell all the excitement was about, she tackled me.

She freaking tackled me to the floor.

We landed on the carpet in a heap, with me beneath her and a pair of long, tan legs straddling my middle.

Her legs were bare.

Holy mother of God, she was wearing nothing but a towel.

She was wet. She was mostly naked. She was sitting across my lap.

Desire swelled inside me and all thought left my head. I couldn’t even be shocked she managed to tackle me because I was too busy thinking about the weight of her across my hips. Damn, she felt delicious.

My body started to react on its own; it never needed any prompting from me. In fact, I have gotten hard from a lot less than something like this. I blinked, trying to focus on the fact she clearly meant me bodily harm.

Was my brother into this kinky shit?

Maybe he hadn’t been as straight-laced as I thought…

As I considered the possibility of this woman gyrating her hips on top of me and demanding I get out of my clothes, she drew her arm back and swung down.

Thank God I had reflexes that were just as automatic as the hardening of my dick.

My hand caught her wrist just before she clobbered me with something.

“What the fuck!” I yelled, snapping out of my sex dream and back to reality. I blinked, looking at what I just stopped from hitting me upside the head.

It was a giant-ass hairbrush. It was large and round with bristles that actually looked like they would leave a mark if she got in a good swing. And judging from her actions just seconds before, if I had been any slower on the uptake, I’d be sporting a rash from that thing and a headache.

“Max!” the hairbrush-yielding she-devil exclaimed. She released the grip on the brush and it fell from her grasp, hitting me right in the nose.

“Goddamn it!” I roared and knocked it away, where it hit the bottom of the island with a thud.

“I’m sorry!” she gasped, reaching down to grab my face and inspect where the brush hit.

Our eyes collided.

For long seconds, time stood still.

In that fleeting moment I realized two things:

1) Clearly this wasn’t a time of day when Max would be home.

And

2) Her eyes were fucking gorgeous.

They were round and wide, almost innocent. Hazel-colored orbs stared down at me, and from this distance I could make out the green and gold flecks that swam around, combining to make a color unique to the wearer. The outside edges were trimmed with a forest green, the kind of green that I only ever saw when living in Pennsylvania. It was the kind of green that bloomed deep in the forest, a natural green that up until now I thought only Mother Nature could create.