Rock Chick Rescue (Rock Chick #2)(67)
Author: Kristen Ashley

Tex let out a guffaw of laughter, then snapped his mouth shut and I could swear his cheeks got a little pink.

I looked at Al y and swal owed.

“Thank you,” I said.

Crinkles came to the corners of Al y’s eyes, “My pleasure.”

I texted everyone Al y’d programmed into my phone, including Indy, Al y, Tod, Stevie, Daisy and yes, even Eddie, with my new number.

Kitty Sue left and then so did Blanca. Tex loaded Mom’s chair and bag in the back of the El Camino, loaded Mom in the front, and roared off with Carlos Santana’s “Winning” blaring from the eight-track.

Duke showed up just before Tex left and fifteen minutes after, the bel over the door went and Vance walked in.

I held my breath. Any girl who sees Vance holds her breath, be she five or one hundred and five.

He was just that fine.

He was wearing a pair of army green cargo pants that had seen a lot of wear, a skintight burgundy t-shirt that looked in danger of cutting off his circulation at his muscular biceps and a pair of dusty brown cowboy boots that looked like they’d actual y been put into a pair of stirrups (more than once). His shiny black hair was pul ed back into a ponytail and his dark eyes were fringed with a set of lashes so lush, you could almost cal them girlie, if you had a death wish.

“Good! You came,” Indy cried immediately and I looked at her.

She grabbed my arm and pul ed me toward Vance.

He shook his head when we arrived at him.

“Thought I’d tel you to your face, this isn’t gonna happen,” Vance said to Indy.

Indy narrowed her eyes.

“What isn’t going to happen?” I asked.

Vance turned to me, “When we talked about you at the staff meeting, I voted to lock you in the safe room.” My mouth dropped open.

I didn’t even know what the safe room was but I knew I didn’t want anything to do with it. And I didn’t want to think about being an agenda item at a Nightingale Investigations staff meeting at al .

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Eddie’d have a shit fit, you wanderin’ around during day hours, hangin’ with the guys. Lee thought you’d be a distraction. The guys voted with me.” His eyes did a body scan and the look in them changed to something that made me feel like swaying toward him, like he had a powerful sexual tractor beam reeling me in.

“Sometimes, distractions are good,” he said softly, “In your case, it’d be job satisfaction.”

Dear Lord.

My mouth went dry.

What the hel was this about?

“Lee vetoed,” Vance finished and the tractor beam disconnected.

Thank God.

I pul ed myself together.

“You don’t help us, we’l go alone,” Indy threatened, completely ignoring the strange, sexual y-charged byplay.

“You try to go alone, I grab her and take her to the office.

Eddie can pick her up there. Lee’l deal with you,” Vance returned.

Eek!

That didn’t sound good. I didn’t want Vance grabbing me (at least not that way… what was I saying, I was sleeping with Eddie, not any way) and I certainly didn’t want Lee

“dealing with” Indy. Lee was Scary with a capital S.

“What are you two talking about?” I cut in.

Indy turned to me.

“You want to find your Dad, Vance is real y, real y good at finding people. I asked him to help.”

I looked to Vance.

Vance was watching Indy talk but when I spoke, he looked to me.

“It’d be nice if you could help,” I said, not real y wanting to but also wanting to find my father enough to ask. “I’l pay you,” I added as an afterthought. I also couldn’t pay him but maybe he’d take instal ments.

His body turned ful y to me and the tractor beam switched on again. “I’l find your father, but you aren’t gonna switched on again. “I’l find your father, but you aren’t gonna help and you aren’t gonna pay me. Though, it won’t be free.

You’l owe me.”

Dear Lord.

In debt to another hot guy. I didn’t know if I could hack it.

No, I knew I couldn’t hack it.

I looked him in the eye and had to wonder what form his favor would come in.

It didn’t take a mind reader to get the gist.

While he waited for my answer, his eyes went weird, as in sexy weird.

“Mild mannered coffee girl by day,” he muttered, “But I’ve seen you in your Smithie’s uniform.”

Sweet Jesus.

That f**king Smithie’s uniform.

It was like Superman’s leotard. No one paid attention to Superman when he was Clark Kent; put on the leotard and al the women were fal ing at his feet. Smithie’s uniform had the same power.

“I’m not working at Smithie’s anymore,” I told him.

His eyes dropped to my scarlet-red tee. “That’s a shame.”

I forced myself to breathe and looked to Indy.

She was bugging her eyes out at me like we were in fifth grade and the cutest boy in school came up to me during recess.

I looked back to Vance.

“I think I’l go it alone,” I said.

He stared at me a second then said, “Can’t let you do that either.”

Um… what?

“What?” I asked.

“You don’t know what your dealin’ with and you don’t know what you’re doin’.”

Okay, so, I was getting a little fed up with guys tel ing me what I could and couldn’t do. Even hot guys.

“I’m not sure you have a choice.”

I was proud of myself, it came out with attitude and conviction. Enough to make his dark eyes flare. I thought he was angry, for a second, then he got over it and his lips twitched.

“Chavez is f**ked.”

I didn’t know what that meant and I didn’t ask.

Vance looked at Indy. “We’re goin’ to Zip’s.” Immediately, Indy clapped and cried, “Yippee!”

“Zip’s?” I asked.

“It’s a gun shop,” Indy said.

“What?” I kind of yel ed.

Why on earth did we need a gun shop?

Vance answered my unasked question. “I’m not gonna help, but I’m not lettin’ you two loose in Denver without protection. We’re goin’ to get you some gear.” He turned to Indy, “You take your car, Jet’s on the Harley with me.” Harley?

As in, Harley Davidson motorcycle?

With Vance?

No.

No, no, no and real y, no.