Speak Easy (Speak Easy 1)

Was he serious? “No. And there’s no way for me to find out.” Rain began to fall. Fat, heavy drops that hit the dock with soft thups.

“All you have to do is listen,” said Sam. “Someone always talks.” His voice was so low and gravelly I could hardly hear it. “We want to know what night it’s coming.”

“I—I don’t…” I flashed Joey a look that said help me. There was no way any of the DiFiores would let something like that slip—especially in front of me.

“Just keep your eyes and ears open, Tiny. That’s all we’re asking.” Joey’s expression pleaded with me to accept the terms.

“OK,” I whispered.

“We better go.” Joey sounded relieved. “We got seventeen cases waiting to be picked up. Tiny, unlock the boathouse for them.”

I did as he said, and the guys loaded the whisky into the red Buick. Once they’d driven away, Joey and I hurried to the boat. Although the rain was intermittent, the wind had picked up and the lake was even choppier than last night. I held on tight as we headed out to the open water.

“You all right?” Joey asked.

“No, I’m not all right! Not only did I just give away three hearses and the keys to the garage, but I sold eight cases of whisky at a discount when I need every penny I can get!”

“I know, but that was his price. And you don’t have a lot of time to turn a profit here, Tiny. You’re better off selling fast than selling high right now.”

“Yeah, but—”

“But nothing. You got a thousand bucks in your pocket that you wouldn’t have if I hadn’t negotiated the deal with Sam. Now forget about what’s already sold and start thinking about the next load you’re gonna have to sell—by tomorrow night.”

He was right. It wouldn’t do any good to agonize over what was already done. I focused my attention on the lights across the lake as the waves tossed us up and down.

At the Canadian docks, I paid the distributor—a younger guy I didn’t recognize—five hundred ninety-five dollars. The seventeen cases barely fit into the boat, which sat frighteningly low in the water. “Come on, hurry,” Joey said. “The rain’s starting again.” He was veering out to the lake before I could even sit down. Halfway across, he stiffened and sat up tall.

“What?” My pulse quickened.

“Come here,” he said quietly, slowing the boat and shutting off the engine.

“Joey, it’s raining! Turn the motor back on and get us back!”

“Just come here,” he said, more insistent this time. He thumped the space next to him on the bench. As we drifted on the swells, I carefully stepped between the sacks to sit beside him. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “Kiss me.”

My stomach cartwheeled. “Are you nuts?”

“Kiss me,” he said again, but he didn’t wait for me to do it. He squeezed my upper arms and pressed his mouth to mine. His fingers dug into my skin as my heart careened out of control. What the hell is going on? He picks this moment to get romantic? He took his lips off mine and buried his face in my hair by my ear. “Inspectors,” he whispered. “Now act like you love me.”

My eyes darted around the lake, and sure enough, what looked like a Prohibition Navy boat was passing us about ten yards off. I saw men in rain slickers lining the deck, guns at their sides. With my pulse roaring in my ears, I threw my arms around Joey and kissed him as if we were just a couple out for a romantic boat ride in the rain. But fear had me frozen stiff; it must have been like kissing a statue. “Relax,” murmured Joey against my closed lips. “I’ve got you.” His low voice loosened my limbs and my inhibitions, and when he pulled me onto his lap, I went willingly. His mouth was hot, and his soft lips teased mine open. The rock and sway of the boat lulled us into a rhythm, and I melted into it, into him. One of his hands began kneading my hip, and the other inched up the side of my ribcage, his thumb nearly grazing my breast. My nipples tightened, and I wanted his hands on them.

Oh my God, I’m kissing Joey. And I like it.

The inspectors had to be past us by now, but I didn’t want to stop. Raindrops splashed our faces and mingled with our kiss, but they did nothing to cool me down. Without thinking, I slipped my tongue between Joey’s lips, and he sucked it gently before stroking it with his own. Picturing his familiar lush mouth, I held his head in my hands and plucked softly at his top lip, then his bottom lip, and then I pulled away slightly to rub my lips back and forth against his. His breath was hot on my mouth, and coming faster. A pleasant ache began between my legs and I arched my back, moving my hips a little. For a moment his arm tightened and I felt his flesh stirring beneath me—but in the next second he pulled away.

“They’re gone.” He set me beside him and turned on the motor.

I sat still, breathing heavily and trying to recover my senses. My whole body shook.

“You OK?” Joey asked. I was irritated to see a smile on his lips.

“No.” I stumbled over the whisky back to the other bench seat. “I can’t believe you did that.” I can’t believe how much I liked it. Had he been pretending the whole time?

He laughed. “Sorry. But I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

I cocked my head, grateful he couldn’t see my

cheeks flaming in the dark. “Glad I could amuse you.”