Fugitive: A Bad Boy Romance (Northbridge Nights Book 2) Read online

  “Ew!” I shook him off and scowled. “What kind of woman do you take me for?”

  “Not like that, Rachelle. Terri wanted me to take you around town and bring out your wild side. Entertain you with some fun memories before you got shacked up.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “I don't have a wild side. And I'm certainly not going to run off with some stranger at—” I glanced at the clock, “—eleven p.m. on a Thursday night, to rediscover myself.”

  I was about to leave when Kieran stopped me again. “I need the money, Rachelle. Terri won't pay me until the job's done. And you know Cam, so I’m not really a stranger.”

  He had a point. I did know Cameron. We weren’t close, but Cameron was my boss, Asher’s best friend. And Cam was good friends with Callista, Terri and Sierra. Clearly, all my friends trusted Kieran by association, right?

  “Exactly how much did Terri promise to pay you?” I asked.

  “A thousand bucks.”

  A thousand dollars? I was supposed to be furious, but all I could think about was Kieran’s goddamn accent. I’d never heard anything quite like it. It wasn’t Irish, like Cameron’s. It almost sounded British, but not quite. “Are you fricking kidding me? Why would she do that?”

  “Well, a part of that is the entertainment fee: the cost of food, drinks, tickets or whatever we need to buy,” Kieran explained. “The rest, I get to keep.”

  “This is ridiculous,” I said, backing away. “I can't, I'm sorry.”

  “I need this money, Rachelle.” His eyes were soft. Pleading. “I'm not a bad guy, I swear. Think of me as a friend of a friend, alright?”

  I swallowed his story with a healthy dose of skepticism. He seemed desperate, almost panicky for this money and for a second I wondered if there was something bad he wasn't telling me. After a few moments though, I caved. His long lashes and puppy dog eyes were too much for me. I silenced the nagging ninny in my head and sucked in a deep breath. “Fine,” I said. “But you try to pull any more dirty moves on me when we're alone and I'll mace you and call the cops.”

  “No need to get the police involved. I swear, I'll be good,” Kieran said, holding up his hands. “I'm just trying to make some quick cash.”

  “Now what?” I asked. I still didn't see Terri or the girls anywhere. Beads of sweat rolled down my face.

  Note to self: find them tomorrow and rip them a new one.

  “They've already left,” Kieran said, answering my unspoken question. “I told Terri I'd text her tomorrow. She said to tell you to relax and have fun.”

  “How did you know I’d say yes?” I asked.

  Kieran winked. “I had a feeling.”

  “I'm not happy about this,” I grumbled.

  “So...should we get out of here?” Kieran asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. It's stuffy as hell in here and I need a breather.”

  Chapter Two

  Kieran

  When Terri Hanover hired me for this hen’s night gig, she neglected to mention that the bride-to-be was smoking hot. From one to ten, Rachelle was a nine-and-a-half. I deducted half a point only because her club wear did not suit her personality or flatter her figure. Everything else was damn near perfect. Silky hair, silkier curves, and the smallest dimple on her left cheek. And those wide, innocent eyes…Eyes that I hoped would never see what I’d seen in my rough life…

  Rachelle was the most stunning woman I’d seen face-to-face, in the last ten years. No contest.

  Her maid of honor, Terri’s exact instructions had been, “Be a little wild, but don’t do anything too dangerous.” They weren’t exactly clear guidelines, but I understood her intention. According to her, Rachelle was a goody-two-shoes who could be very introverted and uptight. Terri said her best friend needed to spend some time out of her comfort zone. That’s where I came in. My task: to tease and flirt my way through the night, and leave Rachelle with a few exhilarating and unforgettable memories. It was supposed to be a simple job. In and out. Charm the girl, take her for a joyride on my Harley, have some fun and collect my dues in the morning.

  But something told me that this night had already gotten complicated.

  The moment I touched her, things got complicated. Rachelle roused feelings in me that’d lain dormant for ten years.

  It’d been far too long since I had a woman: felt her skin against mine, took in her scent, her sounds…

  Rachelle elicited certain manly, uncontrollable urges inside me. Now, I wasn’t a shallow man, but I was still a man. And when a man rubbed up against a pretty girl, well…

  Little Kieran had a mind of his own.

  Rachelle felt it too, I knew she did. My arousal was plain as day.

  Her curves set my skin on fire. Her voice sent all my blood coursing straight down to my cock. She drove me all kinds of crazy.

  Not good.

  I’d begun to crave a woman that belonged to someone else.

  Lust after a woman who was getting married in seven days.

  I’d begged her to come with me. But now that she’d said yes, I was actually a bit nervous. Unfortunately, I really had no choice. I needed the money.

  Rachelle was scared of me. I could see it in her doe eyes. She didn’t trust me.

  I didn’t trust me either, so that made two of us.

  I was fucking screwed.

  Chapter Three

  Rachelle

  Kieran grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. We navigated around several tables, drunks and servers before reaching the back exit. A blast of icy air slammed into me as he opened the door to the back alley.

  It was pitch dark, save for some yellow streetlights illuminating a slippery back road. The air reeked of vomit and rotting trash. I was freezing in my garish dress and I suddenly realized that I'd left my jacket and purse in Terri's car. Crap. Even if I wanted to mace Kieran, I couldn't. And I didn't have a phone. I felt downright stupid for agreeing to come. I clutched my sides, trying not to shiver.

  “Here.” Kieran draped something warm and heavy across my numb shoulders. A leather jacket. It smelled of cologne, menthol cigarettes and him. An inexplicably sexy and masculine combination.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. My heels clicked behind him as we walked out of the alley, toward the main road. It was the dead of night and all my friends ditched me. Great. I was stuck in Eastport without a ride home. No money, cellphone, ID, nothing. Did they even realize what kind of predicament they put me in? What if this Kieran turned out to be a rapist or serial killer? They didn’t know anything about him. I was completely at his mercy. The broken street ahead seemed to stretch forever. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Don't worry, I'm not a serial killer,” Kieran said, as if reading my mind.

  I scoffed. “So you say.”

  Kieran twisted around, his dark gaze trained on mine. In two steps he was in front of me, wrapping his large hands around my neck. “If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be dead already. But lucky for you, I'm just a man looking to get paid in the morning. Now stop acting so scared around me. I already told you, I’m not a bad guy.”

  Panic clawed my throat, and I swallowed hard. My face scrunched in anticipation of pain. He wasn't holding me hard or anything, in fact, it was more of a caress than a chokehold. But knowing that he was so strong and I, so feeble, made me weak in the knees. I bit my wind-chapped lips and swallowed again.

  Kieran let me go and we walked in silence for a few more minutes before he stopped in front of a Harley. It gleamed under the streetlights, a vision of chrome and leather.

  “This yours?” I asked, gawking at the motorcycle.

  Kieran nodded. “My first love. Her name’s Halle.” He knelt down, unclipped an extra helmet and tossed it to me. “Let's go.”

  I'd never been on a motorcycle before, but I didn't want him to think I was a priss so I shoved on the heavy helmet, tightened the straps and nodded. How convenient, that he just happened to have an extra helmet. His bike was named Halle…after an ex-girlfriend
perhaps? Not that I cared. “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “You’ll see,” Kieran replied, starting the engine. “Hop on.”

  I tried to spread my legs in order to mount the bike, but my dress refused to budge. Watching me struggle, Kieran smirked. “That dress doesn’t suit you.”

  I groaned. “It’s Terri’s. She made me wear it since I had nothing ‘suitable’ in my own closet.”

  Kieran bent down on one knee, studied my dress and then ripped the left seam a little. “There.”

  My jaw dropped. “You could’ve asked first!” I said, running a finger over the four-inch tear.

  “Let’s go,” he said, helping me onto his bike.

  Minutes later I was clutching his waist for dear life as we zipped down the Interstate. Wind whistled past my ears. I was still wearing his leather jacket, which meant he was driving in the drizzle with nothing but a t-shirt on. He didn't seem to mind though. I pressed against him harder, hoping I could at least keep his backside warm. Cold air dealt paper cuts against my eyes, so I squeezed them shut.

  The tequila from earlier had given me the courage to leave Bar None, but now, I felt way out of my element. And very, very sleepy...

  Fifteen or twenty minutes later, we arrived in front of Eastport Casino. It’s massive, glittering lights beckoned us inside.

  After getting off Kieran's bike and combing my fingers through my tangled black hair I said, “You want to show me the night of my life at a casino? Is this your idea of getting wild?”

  Kieran smirked. “If you want wild, I can give you wild.”

  “How wild can you get?” I asked, immediately hating myself for saying something laced with innuendo.

  “Pretty fucking wild, baby.”

  “Well, if my best friend's paying you a thousand bucks, I will expect at least a lap dance at some point,” I said, trying to hold back a grin. I was feigning a flirtatious confidence I did not have. Looking straight ahead, I started walking toward the casino entrance.

  “I thought you wanted me to play nice,” Kieran said, catching up to me. “What would your fiancé think?”

  I shrugged. Keeping my voice low and even, I said, “He's at the strip club with his buddies for his bachelor party. I'm guessing he'll be getting a lap dance there.”

  Kieran let out a hum. “Well, we'll have to see how things go. I'm not sure you deserve a lap dance from me.” He winked. Moments later, I felt his thick, ropy arm loop around my shoulder and I didn't shrug it off. It was a friendly gesture, I told myself, that was all.

  Chapter Four

  RACHELLE

  Eastport Casino was even more chaotic than Bar None. Crammed with boozy gamblers chasing their next high, and rows of flashing, neon slot machines, the place was one big circus show. To my left, greasy desperados in dusty clothing were trying to turn their lives around with Roulette. And at the Blackjack table, a gaggle of skinny blondes with botched boob jobs were downing a little too much liquid courage. Their raucous laughter sounded like dogs baying.

  The air smelled of dirty money.

  I was glad the bulky security guard at the door didn't ask me for ID, because I had none. So far, the night had been pretty embarrassing already. The last thing I needed was to get thrown out for looking too young. It happened more often than I’d like. I had an Asian ‘baby-face’; people frequently mistook me for a minor. Mom said I should be grateful I looked so good for my age, but I only felt insulted. What twenty-five-year-old woman wanted to be mistaken for a sixteen-year-old teen?

  I turned to study Kieran. His eyes were gleaming. They swept back and forth across the floor, eager to join in the fun. Squeezing my hand, he asked, “You ready to win some big money?”

  The intermittent cha-chings around us disoriented me. Note to self: don't ever drink this much again. “Huh?” I said, blinking.

  “What do you want to play first?” Kieran asked, tugging me along. “Slots? Blackjack? Poker?”

  “I'm not much of a gambler,” I admitted. “And I feel a bit sick.” I added sarcastically, “Real classy place you brought me to. Feel free to try your luck, Kieran.”

  “Don't mind if I do,” Kieran replied. “Care to join me at the poker table?”

  I shrugged. “Why not? But let's not stay too long. This place is giving me a massive headache.”

  “One game,” Kieran said. “Don't worry, I'm going to crush them.”

  Kieran jumped into a game of Texas Hold’em minutes later. He was all smiles, and reminded me of a slick car salesman. A sudden, frenetic energy made him hyper-alert and unbelievably focused.

  I lingered behind him, studying his starting hand: a two and a seven. It was an awful pair and I was almost certain he'd lose. In fact, I didn't even want to stick around long enough to watch him lose. But he held my wrist and told me to be patient. So I did.

  While everyone tossed in chips and evaluated their competition, I evaluated my companion. Kieran had a prominent, slightly crooked nose. A thin layer of stubble hugged his jawline. His bushy eyebrows shifted from side to side as his expressions changed. He looked pensive one moment, mischievous the next…But his best feature was easily his eyes. Those endless, enigmatic pools looked world-weary and too hard for someone his age. Yet, at the same time, they belied a fierce intelligence. It was amazing how much someone’s eyes revealed about their personality. Based on what little I knew of Kieran, he was probably in his early thirties. His good looks were undeniable, and he was an obvious chick magnet. Perhaps if we’d met some other time, in some other life…

  But nothing would ever happen between us now…not in this life anyway. Fun for one night, and one night only. That was our agreement. That’s what Terri paid for.

  The dealer laid down the flop. Everyone placed their bets. Kieran laid his entire stack of chips on the line.

  Was he effing nuts?

  Then the dealer laid down the turn...

  This was going to end poorly, I could feel it. I just wish I wasn’t the one watching Kieran go down in flames. My neck hairs prickled and sweat clung to my pores as I watched the game unfold. I was more nervous than Kieran, and I didn’t even have anything to lose! As Kieran raised the stakes higher and higher, I felt dizzier and dizzier. This man was ballsy, I had to give him that. Ballsy and stupid.

  Somehow, an hour and three rounds later, Kieran tripled his winnings through sheer bluffing. He’d make an amazing con artist, I thought. I was both impressed and perturbed by how well this man could lie. His poker face even had me fooled, and I could see his hand. He either had a lot of experience playing poker or with lying…The man’s calculated raises were bold, risky, 100% confident...and damn sexy. There was something undeniably attractive about a man who forced all his opponents to fold using just his poker face. His smug, cocky and handsome poker face.

  By the time Kieran left the table, his initial investment of eight-hundred dollars had turned into twenty-four hundred dollars. We received more than a few nasty glares from the other players.

  “You're pretty good,” I said, trying to sound casual about it. “What's your secret?”

  We walked over to a booth to cash in our chips. “My secret? I had a lucky charm beside me,” Kieran said, winking at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don't believe in luck. Only hard work, skill and perseverance.”

  Kieran shrugged. “Yeah, sometimes you can get ahead with hard work, but some lucky bastards get everything handed to them without shedding a drop of sweat.”

  “You sound jaded,” I pointed out.

  “I've seen a lot of shit in my life,” Kieran said. “Now, what should we do with all this green?”

  “Let me guess, we're going to go wild and spend it recklessly,” I said, deadpan.

  “I was actually thinking of investing it in a low-risk, low-yield, long-term mutual fund,” Kieran countered with a smirk.

  I laughed. “Well, all the banks are closed now. But you could try in the morning.”

  Kieran stopped mid-step and loo
ked at me. “Your laugh is adorable. Just like the rest of you.”

  I felt my cheeks grow hot and didn't reply to his comment.

  Kieran tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket and pulled me toward him.

  I dragged in air he erased the distance between us. “What are you—” I began.

  His hand made a move toward my chest.

  “Kieran…” I glared at him.

  He unzipped the breast pocket of his jacket and shoved a stack of Benjamins inside. “You’re the bank tonight.”

  I smiled like an idiot as he zipped the pocket back up. I could feel the heavy lump of cash pressing up against my chest. He trusted me with his hard-earned money. “C’mon, let’s go,” I said, forcing myself to calm down. Gee, Rach. How could you let some stranger make you feel so jittery?

  It was half-past midnight when we walked back to Kieran's bike. My knees were about to give out from sheer exhaustion and my hairdo had long since fallen apart. But my heart was still pounding fast from the thrill of watching Kieran win big. It had been quite the show, and I was almost sorry to end our encounter. It hadn’t been the wildest night of my life, but at least I was entertained for a while. “Listen Kieran, it's been fun but I have work in the morning,” I said. “You better drive me home.”

  “Call in sick tomorrow,” he replied without hesitation. “The night’s just getting started, baby.”

  “What, no! I can't do that. My boss will be pissed. I'm the only full-time paralegal there,” I said.

  “So what would happen if you were really sick?” Kieran asked.

  “Well, Selena would probably take over—”

  “There's your answer. Tell Selena you aren't feeling well,” Kieran said.

  “If I go home now I could still get a good six hours of sleep—”

  “You're not going home tonight and you're definitely not going to catch any sleep,” Kieran said. “This is your night, baby. Live a little. Fuck responsibilities.”