Chapter 4

A fter closing the shop, Kara followed Dylan's bright red motorcycle at a snail's pace to an industrial district. Warehouses crowded the streets, block after block. At the end of one road, he turned and entered a yard ringed by a chain-link fence with barbed wire atop it. The sign above the garage read Al's Body Shop. Oily smells of grease and gasoline filled the air, a far cry from the light floral scent filtering through her store. Kara parked near a row of motorcycles as Dylan wheeled his bike into the garage. Inside, a mechanic with shoulder-length dark hair, wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt and stained jeans, worked on a motorcycle. No one else was around.

She took a minute to admire the way the mechanic's muscles bunched as he worked. The back of his shirt was damp with sweat. Bad boys and mechanics were never her style, but this man exuded a base sexuality in his movements even she couldn't resist.

Now, if you were into repairing sedans instead of motorcycles... She almost laughed. Who was she kidding?

"Hey, Gator! Can you change out my tires?" Dylan asked, parking the bike near the mechanic.

"Give me a minute," the man grumbled.

Her nose wrinkled as she sidestepped tools lying on the garage floor, her heels almost getting caught in a large socket wrench.

"Gator, can you change out the tires now? I need the bike for the big job tomorrow night..." His voice trailed off and he refused to look at Kara.

Alarm filled her. She'd heard from two other jewelers how someone had broken into their shops, taking only a few pieces, but the most expensive ones. The security cameras had been disabled with black spray paint, but one hadn't been covered enough in the last burglary and showed someone speeding off on a racing motorcycle.

Police suspected a gang of motorcycle thieves on fast bikes. In, out and away before law enforcement could arrive.

Surely, Dylan couldn't be involved in this gang?

She regarded Dylan with a severe look. "Dylan, if you need transportation for work, I can drive you."

"No, it's okay, you're busy and I won't bother you. You've already done enough. I'm going out with the guys for something. Bikers only." Still, he refused to look directly at her.

Kara's stomach roiled. Now she was certain Dylan was involved in something shady. Tempted to haul him away and lock him up until after tomorrow night, she started to speak when the mechanic finally sat up and turned toward them. She gasped.

Jace Beckett. Again.

She gave him a cool look that belied the tiny muscles in her stomach jumping. His hair was much longer, tied back in a ponytail that made him look even sexier than usual, and he sported a well-trimmed beard. Grease stained the front of his white sleeveless T-shirt. As far as appearances went, he'd done a total one-eighty from when he was her ex-boyfriend, with close-cropped hair and business suits, and preferred pushing papers.

Yet his blue gaze remained the same—warm, friendly and filled with sexual interest, which faded as he recognized her.

"Jace," she said tightly.

"Well, if it isn't the little lady from the Tiki Bar. Hello, Kara. Change your mind about that ride I promised?" he drawled, sounding and looking more like a cliché.

Fury filled her. Kara started to think of ways to berate him, tell him she was glad they broke up, when he narrowed his eyes at her, shook his head ever so slightly.

As if in warning.

Clamping down on her bottom lip, she glared instead. Impossible to know what was going on, but for now, in front of Dylan, she'd play along.

Dylan gave her a puzzled look. "Kara, you know Gator?"

"No. I don't know a Gator." She folded her arms across her chest. "But I do know Jace—"

"Brown," he said, interrupting her. "Jace Brown."

"Brown," she said slowly, totally confused.

Jace's gaze flicked to her. "I changed my name after my father got into some trouble."

Kara frowned, then turned to Dylan. "We used to...date."

Saying they dated hurt less than admitting their relationship had been a major failure.

Her cousin looked at Jace. "Wow."

Jace clapped Dylan on the back. "Don't worry, I won't hold your relationship with my ex against you."

Dylan cleared his throat. "Gator, I need this bike by tomorrow. Can you stop what you're doing and check it out, make sure it's in top-notch condition?" Dylan's face had a stubborn look she recognized.

Jace wiped his dirty hands on an equally dirty rag. "Dylan, maybe you should sit this one out. Bike may have some wear on it, and even if I keep it overnight it may need parts I don't have here..."

"No. Just check it over, 'kay? Text me when it's done."

Jace kept rubbing his hands with the rag. His deep blue gaze met Kara's. "So, how about it? I'm still available for a good time. I'll even go slow for you."

She scowled, then looked around the garage cluttered with equipment, cars and motorcycles. Dylan wandered off to examine a sleek yellow motorcycle with gleaming chrome.

Kara lowered her voice. "Can you afford it?"

His cheeky grin didn't annoy her as much as it had in the past. "I can afford the gas and the time, sweetheart. Just not tomorrow night."

"Jace, what happened to you? What do you mean, your father got into trouble?"

"Nothing for you to worry about."

"Is that why you changed so much? You had a great job with a good company in investments..."

Now, it was his turn to scowl. "Stop talking about my past. That's my business, okay?"

"But this place..." Her nose wrinkled. "Nothing wrong with being a mechanic, but you had a career with that firm, and seeing you like this... Do you need money?"

His eyes widened. "Kara, I'm fine for money."

She thought about the way they'd broken up, in a hurry, and he'd left for DC, while she had an important meeting with a client. Kara made a prompt decision.

"Are you busy tonight? Can we meet someplace and talk?"

He blinked, and a guarded look came over him.

"Why?"

"I need to talk to you. But not here, in front of him." She indicated her head.

"Earl's Place. I get off here at six and can meet you there at six thirty."

"Restaurant?"

Jace gave her one of his familiar, long, cool looks. "Bar. Beer and pretzels."

On his limited salary, probably more to his taste. "Fine. I don't have your cell. I deleted you from my contacts."

No emotion on his face. Jace rattled off a phone number, which she entered into her contacts, then she shot him off a brief message.

Tonight, Earl's Place. 6:30. Meet me.

Kara turned to Dylan. "Ready?"

"Yeah." The teenager shook his head. "Nice bike. How much, Jace?"

"It's been sold." Jace's gaze never left her. "Bikes like that are a lot of money, kid."

"Come on, Dylan. I'll drop you off. I can pick you up tomorrow and give you a ride here when your bike is ready."

"No need. I'll have one of the guys drop me off when Jace tells me the bike is finished."

Kara put a hand on his too-thin shoulder. "If you're sure, Dylan. But I wish you'd let me help you."

He shrugged off her hand. "I'm fine. Let's go. I know you have a lot of work."

Giving Jace another glance, seeing the indifference on his handsome face turn to worry, only raised more questions in her mind.

What was Jace involved with and how low had he sunk?

Jace threw down the towel, cussing up a blue streak. Kara, again! She looked as classy as ever in her yellow sleeveless dress—designer, of course—and those black high heels. Long blond hair bound in a twist at the back. Elegant. She stood out in the dirty garage like a snowflake on a coal heap.

He'd fought every impulse to escort her out of the garage and tell her to get lost and never come back. What if one of the guys had seen her?

She needed to stay out of his life for good. But now, she was around Dylan. And she wanted to meet up with Jace tonight. About what?

The old feelings were still there for him. He hoped like hell Kara didn't want to rekindle their relationship. He'd asked her to marry him, slid a ring onto her finger with a one-carat diamond and a week later, they were finished.

They'd moved on. Why did she have to return to his life now, of all times? He needed to get rid of her.

Kara and Dylan. Bad combination. Did she realize the kid was into stealing from jewelry stores? Did she know he courted trouble and stood on the verge of arrest?

He focused on fixing the motorcycle he needed to repair before tomorrow. The smells of grease and oil lingered in the air, along with the delicate trace of Kara's perfume. Something light and floral. Not heavy. He remembered breathing it in as he'd nuzzled her neck with long, sweeping kisses that made her tremble in his arms...

His hand slipped on the wrench and he cursed another blue streak.

For an hour, he worked steadily on the bike until something made him glance up.

Big Mike stood at the garage entrance, silhouetted by the bright sunlight outside.

Not a social call, either. Jace could tell. Mike seldom visited the garage except when his own bike needed repairs.

This wasn't good. The garage floor seemed to quake beneath the tread of Big Mike's boots as the barrel-chested biker strode forward. He wasn't happy. And not about the condition of the bike Jace was working on right now.

Jace set down the socket wrench, trying to ignore the little hairs on his arms and the back of his neck saluting the air. Mike stood six feet, four inches tall and outweighed Jace by at least one hundred pounds.

He can turn me into dog food. Show no fear.

Too much had been invested in this assignment. He was closer to nailing the guy at the top of the food chain. Couldn't blow it now.

"What's up, big dog?" he asked Mike.

The man scowled. "I saw you talking with Diesel earlier. He just got released. How the hell do you know him?"

A bead of sweat trickled down Jace's back, nudged itself into the waistband of his jeans. He shrugged. "Fellow biker, just chatting. Guy told me he was imprisoned. He wanted to know a cheap place to rent."

Not a lie, but not the full truth, either.

My own father didn't know me. Thank You, sweet Lord.

At Big Mike's silence, he broke his own rule to never offer more information than necessary. The biker's scowl hadn't lessened.

"Diesel told me he used to go on runs with the DP. I think he was looking for work. He told me his name was Al and the garage was named after him. You think I should avoid the guy?"

He made his voice flattering and subservient, eager as a puppy wanting to please his owner for treats. Here's a good boy.

Big Mike's expression didn't change. "Stay away from Diesel."

Jace saluted him with the wrench. "No problem."

My pleasure, dickwad. I have no intention of seeing dear old Dad again.

As Jace squatted down to the floor again, the other man added, "There's something about you I don't trust. You smell all wrong, Gator. Like trouble. Big trouble. You're not telling us everything."

"Sure I am, man." Jace kept his voice steady. "What do I have to hide?"

"I've been watching you," Big Mike said, squatting down and coming inches from Jace's face. "And I gotta say, I don't think you're who you say you are. You act funny."

Think of a way to defuse the situation. "Funny ha ha?"

"Don't mess around with me, Gator." Big Mike narrowed his eyes. "You've been acting weird. Asking too many questions. I don't like how you're getting close to Lance. Not when you're acting as if you have something to hide."

Jace felt real alarm. He had to think fast. "Yeah, I get it. You're right. I do have something to hide."

Big Mike stood and stared him down. Jace stared back and stood, flexing his arms. "The something I have to hide is that girl you saw at the Tiki Bar two months ago. Her name's Kara. I finally got her interested again. I don't want Lance or anyone sniffing around her, disrupting my plans to get laid." He narrowed his eyes. "Got it?"

"Kara," the biker said slowly.

Jace whipped out his cell, showed Mike the screen and Kara's text asking him to meet at the bar. "I've got her interested and it's just a matter of sweet-talking until I score again. She was a real sweet piece and I'm in the mood for quick loving. So back off."

He hated making Kara sound like a cheap thrill, but he had to stick to his cover.

Big Mike studied the text as if trying to puzzle out a passage from War and Peace in the original Russian. "A girl." He shook his head and handed Jace back the phone. "Gator, you have to stop thinking with your little brain because it will get you in trouble."

He offered a full-wattage grin as he pocketed the phone. "Nah. I've handled her before and the sex was amazing. That's it."

"It had better be. Your first loyalty is to us and not a woman. Get it?"

As he nodded, the other biker gave him a long look. "Just make sure you keep your business in her and she stays out of our business."

"No problem."

Big Mike's cell rang. He answered, frowned. "No, I don't think we have that ready... Okay, okay, let me check. Call you right back."

The biker carried his cell phone over to the shelves. He started searching and cursed. Seldom had Jace seen the steely-tempered biker so rattled. "Dammit, it has to be here someplace."

After setting down his phone, the man rummaged through the mess on the table. "Gator, you have to clean up this crap. I can't find anything. Where the hell is the stuff I ordered last week?"

Jace waved his wrench. "Outside. Got a huge shipment earlier, and the boxes still have to be unpacked. Planned to tackle them soon as I get this baby fixed. There's a few of them. Help yourself to looking."

Maybe if he got lucky, Mike would walk outside and he'd overhear some good intel.

His luck held. Big Mike not only walked out to inspect the new shipment, he also left his cell phone on the table. Guy was truly rattled.

After sprinting over to the table, keeping one eye on the back door Mike had walked through, Jace glanced at his phone. Using his own phone's stylus to avoid leaving prints, he quickly scrolled through Mike's recent texts. Someone named PrisonerXYZ told Mike to stand by.

No time to investigate further. Jace left the phone as it was and pocketed the stylus. He bolted back to the bike and returned to fixing it. A minute later, Mike returned, grabbed his phone. Jace glanced up.

"Problem?" Jace asked.

"None of your business."

As Big Mike lumbered off, Jace let out a long sigh of relief, but he knew he couldn't let his guard down. He was in deep with this gang, and he knew that any slipup could cost him his life. He was going to have to be more careful than ever.

Especially with Kara.

The job Dylan and the other kids had planned for tomorrow night sounded like Kara's store. He'd overheard Dylan talking about how his employer planned to upgrade security tomorrow, so they had to move tonight. But, hell, he never imagined Dylan worked for Kara.

He needed to warn her, subtly, to stay home tomorrow night, so if they did knock it off, she'd be safe.

For her sake, and his, he hoped he'd heard wrong about the gang's plans to burglarize Kara's shop. Because if Dylan and his pals dared to rip off Kara, she wouldn't take it lightly. He knew his ex and her courage and determination.

He had to dissuade her from being in the vicinity tomorrow night. She would come storming after Dylan with a vengeance, not hesitating to go the clubhouse and confront Dylan in person.

And run straight into danger, risking more than losing her jewelry.

She could lose her life.