Wolf (Evil Dead MC 4)

“Tell you? Tell you what?” Crystal played dumb. He looked pissed. At her. Oh, God, what had Shannon done, going straight to her boss like that? Crystal wanted to crawl under the desk in embarrassment. Not only had Shannon called him, but then he comes out and catches her on a personal call. Shit. But it had been the only one since she’d been here. He couldn’t possibly be upset about that, could he? Although, she had to admit, he had a temper, a true Irish temper. She’d seen it on occasion, but in all the months she’d worked here, he’d never turned it on her. In fact, he’d never been anything but nice to her.

His brows rose. “Were you going to tell me that it’s your birthday Saturday?”

She swallowed. “They shouldn’t have called you. I’m so sorry.”

“Your girl, Shannon, she told me you were turning thirty, and they want to treat you to a girl’s weekend. She seemed sure that you’d make excuses for not being able to go. Work, specifically.”

“We work every weekend. It’s when you’re the busiest. I couldn’t possibly go. And she shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry about that.” Crystal frowned. “Is that who that last call I put through to you was? She used a Texas accent. That little fraud.”

“Don’t change the subject.” He glared at her.

She huffed out a breath. “No. I wasn’t going to tell you. Why would I? It’s not exactly something I’m looking forward to. Thirty. Woo hoo. I’m so excited.” She twirled her finger in the air.

A slow grin formed on his face. “What’s wrong with turning thirty? Things just get better, Ace.” He winked. “I’m thirty-eight. You sayin’ I’ve lost my sex appeal?”

Her eyes skated down him as he stood with his muscular arms folded, leaned back against the L-shaped end of the counter, his legs crossed at his booted ankles. He certainly hadn’t lost it. He was tall and built with a long dark blonde ponytail and pretty blue eyes. From the expensive boots he wore, to the watch on his wrist, he was head-to-toe GQ. Ralph Lauren had nothing on him. Except maybe the tattoos that ran up his forearms, revealed by the expensive denim shirt he wore rolled up at the sleeves. No, Jameson O’Rourke had not lost his sex appeal.

But he wasn’t really Crystal’s type. Maybe he was just a little too polished, which was strange for the profession he chose. But since he viewed what he did as an art form, she guessed it made sense. The shop was lined with framed art. All of it his.

“No, of course not. You haven’t lost your sex appeal.”

He grinned. “Maybe this isn’t an appropriate conversation to have with your boss.”

“Pretty sure not.” Crystal rolled her eyes.

He nodded toward the phone. “They must be pretty good friends to go to all this trouble.”

“They are, but I can’t leave the shop. Not for a whole weekend.”

He lifted his chin toward her work area. “Wrap up whatever you were doing, and get out of here.”

She frowned. “What?”

“Go. Get out of here. You’ve got a bag to pack. And if I know women, you’ve got shopping to do before your trip.”

“I can’t go.”

“The hell you can’t.”

“Jameson…”

He turned and ambled off, saying over his shoulder. “You’re still here in an hour, you’re fired.”

“Fired?” Crystal whined at his

retreating back.

He kept walking. “Happy Birthday, Ace.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Cole stood by his bike in the gravel parking lot of what once was The Pony, one of Nevada’s most successful brothels. A brothel the Evil Dead MC owned. Well, not outright on paper. Their ownership was buried in dummy corporations a mile deep.

“Let me bum a smoke,” he asked Red Dog, who dug a pack out of his vest and shook one out. So much for trying to quit. At this rate, he was going to have an ulcer as well. Pulling his silver Zippo from his pocket, Cole lit the cigarette up, drawing hard. He flipped the lighter closed and shoved it in his pocket, letting the smoke expand in his lungs and the nicotine flood his system like sweet nirvana. Blowing out the smoke, he said, “Thanks, Dog.”

They both watched as Crash approached them from the rubble of the gutted building. Beyond him, Cole could see Mack still standing talking with the Fire Marshall.

Crash reached them with the update. “He says it’s definitely arson. And the way he’s questioning Mack, I’m betting he thinks it’s an inside job.”