Page 12 of No More Secrets

“Let me know if you need anything.” She taps the bar, her eyes meeting his again, and leaves to help another customer.

“So Janie’s got a thing tomorrow night,” Mike says. “A pampered something or other.”

“What of it?” Oscar picks up his Ferrari, a mint-and-orange concoction Lucas has never acquired a taste for.

“I have an extra ticket to the game.”

Lucas tosses back his second shot, motions for a third, and chases the Jose with his Corona. “I’ll take it.” California City doesn’t offer much, but for three seasons it had a lower-division baseball team. Mike went to every Whiptails home game. When the team folded, he bit the bullet and bought tickets for the Bakersfield Train Robbers. Lucas wouldn’t mind the hour drive. The desert is wearing on him. He’s used to fog and sixty-degree highs. Bakersfield won’t offer relief, but it is a change of scenery.

“What if I want the ticket?” Oscar asks.

Mike looks at him. “You want it or not?”

“Yeah, I want it.”

“Darts,” Lucas says.

“Darts?”

Mike pounds the table. “You heard the man. Winner gets the ticket.”

Lucas stands. “Another round, Val.” He circles his finger to encompass the guys.

“Sure thing, baby.” Val sprays soda water over ice.

Mike snags the cup of darts from behind the bar, and Oscar moves chairs to clear the area in front of the board. Lucas hears his name. He looks over his shoulder at the group of men seated at the table in the corner playing Ship, Captain, Crew. A few of the guys Lucas recognizes as friends of Rafe watch him, but nobody acts like they’d called out to him.

The compulsion to leave not just the bar, but town, surges upward. He’s lingered too long, pushing his luck. Trouble will find him. Or the law. But the town and the people have been growing on him. And Ivy would probably kill him herself if he deserted her.

Whenhe deserts her, he amends.

He can’t stay here forever. Either he sucks up the will to end it, or the cops will sniff him out. One or the other will put him out of his misery. He just doesn’t know who or what will get to him first.

He turns away from them, reasoning he was hearing things. Feeling paranoid after dallying with Faye. Mike hands Oscar three darts, gives Lucas the other three. “What’ll it be, weasels? Five-oh-one or Shanghai?”

“Around the Clock.” A challenge that requires them both to hit every number on the board before they aim at the bull’s-eye. “Highest goes first.” Lucas throws a dart and lands on the eighteen.

Oscar gets a five. “Fucker.”

Lucas grins. “You can give up now. I’ll take the ticket.”

“Not a chance.” But Oscar moves to the side, giving Lucas space. Lucas throws his three darts, landing one on the one, another on the two, the third on the five, and Mike tallies the numbers.

Val comes over with their drinks during Oscar’s round. She moves close enough to Lucas that her arm brushes his chest. He takes hisdrinks off the tray, his fingers skimming the side of her breast. His eyes dip to those breasts, linger for a sec before lifting to hers and holding. Her smile is an invitation before she turns away to deliver Mike and Oscar their drinks.

They’re several turns and another round in with Lucas in the lead when the back of his neck tingles. He steps up to the line, knowing he’s being watched. He aims his dart, catching his name as he cocks back his arm. Grinding his teeth, he looks behind him, and Paul, a prison guard Faye once mentioned was a good friend of Rafe’s, gives him the finger.

Lucas flips him the bird before he can think better not to, Ivy’s advice ringing in his ears. Yeah, time’s up with Faye. Trouble is here. That’s one hookup he never should have started, let alone allowed to linger.

Marshall, the bar manager, relieves Val for her midshift break. She removes her waist apron, catching Lucas’s eye, and retreats down the back hallway.

“Give me a minute. Gotta piss.” He hands off his darts to Mike and follows Val past the restroom and storage closet, and out the rear. The thick metal door bangs shut behind them. The back of the bar is dark, but for a single wall lamp, and thankfully void of people.

Val turns around, and Lucas’s mouth lands on hers. She tastes of Jack and Coke. Her arms twine around his neck. The kiss is wet, hungry, and wordless. An unspoken agreement. A mutual consent. His hands move up her torso under her tank, scouring her sides, and squeeze her breasts. She moans into his mouth, pushing her pelvis against his hardness, and he groans. He can’t get over how soft her skin is. Such a contradiction to his coarse fingers, rough from years of labor. Her palms glide down, tracing his ribs, his abs. Her fingers trail under his shirt hem, teasing, tormenting. The sensation goes straight to his groin.

Lucas breaks the kiss, catching her eye. She smiles, her chest rising and falling. Then their hands are moving. Belts come unclasped, buttons undone, and zippers pulled. Val pushes down her jeans and thong,and Lucas frees himself, spinning her around. He bends her over a stack of wood pallets, rips open a foil packet and sheathes himself, and pushes into her in a breath.

She gasps. He growls a curse. Then he’s moving. Slowly at first until she accommodates him, adjusting to his size, then he’s pounding into her. His hand reaches around to her front, and she cries out.

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