Becoming Rain
Page 80

 K.A. Tucker

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“But at least I’m not covered in dirt.” Reaching behind me, he begins picking off leaves and grass. Some twigs. “I guess rain doesn’t make everything clean, does it.”
“Shit.” I peer down at the back of my skirt. It looks like I was rolling around in mud, which is basically what I was doing. “Do you think she knew?”
He laughs. “I’m guessing she has a pretty good idea.”
“Awesome.” I shake my head but smile. “I guess I won’t be doing my next photography assignment here.”
Chapter 43
LUKE
I interlace my fingers through Rain’s as we weave through a thick crowd at The Cellar, the deep bass vibrating through my chest as usual. Though I’ve taken plenty of women out, I’ve never brought one in.
But Rain’s different.
“Trust me, there’s no need to be nervous. You’re gonna love Rust.”
Her broad smile sprouts those sexy dimples. “If he’s anything like you then I don’t doubt it. I just hope he likes me. I mean, he’s basically your dad.”
“He’d have to be insane not to love you.” She’s wearing dark red lipstick tonight. I can’t wait to take her home and let her cover my body with it, something I normally never like.
Passing the bar, I catch Priscilla watching us from behind a wall of customers. I’m sure she’s figured out by now that it’s over between us. I’d be surprised if she cares. A quick glance down sees Rain’s big blue eyes in that general direction. I wonder if she’s put two-and-two together.
I speed up, passing by the stocky bouncer watching over the VIP section to land in our typical booth. “Rust!”
“Well . . . well . . .” As usual, Rust’s on his feet immediately, patting my back as he always does, before turning his attention to Rain. “So you are the lady stealing all of my nephew’s time lately.” I don’t blame him for doing a lightning-speed appraisal of her. I did too, when she stepped out of her condo in this creamy, tight lace dress, the sleeves long but the dress short enough to give me an instant hard-on the minute she climbed into my SUV.
She dips her head, smiling. “Not all of it.” Eyes dart to me, twinkling. “Some.”
“Please.” He holds an arm out toward the booth. Rain slides in, spiking my adrenaline yet again as I see those mile-high legs in full view. “Drinks?” Rust snaps his fingers at a nearby waitress while pouring a glass of vodka from the bottle he never sits down without.
As Rain gives her order, Rust is busy flashing approving eyebrows my way. That’s a good start. “So, Rain, Luke tells me you moved here from D.C. not long ago?”
They go back and forth for the next fifteen minutes, Rust asking her questions about her life, her family, her plans. She answers him with the grace and ease of someone who’s practiced the words, no signs of the nerves she told me about earlier.
Suddenly, Rust squints as if thinking hard. “You know, you look familiar. I can’t quite figure it out.”
“Do I?” She frowns at me. “I don’t know why I would. I just moved to Portland.”
“You saw her that day at the garage.”
His forehead furrows deeper. “Yeah, but . . . have you been here, to this club?”
“Uh . . .” She glances around the space. “Yeah, actually. I think I may have come here once.”
“Really? Hell, we could have been here at the same time,” I say.
She shrugs. “Maybe? I don’t know. My brother recommended a couple of places and I checked them out. Didn’t really stay long. You know, on account of not knowing anyone.”
Rust is watching her over his drink in that way he has, when I know he’s weighing someone. And I’m watching him watch her, not liking it.
Which is probably why none of us notice the irate Russian suddenly hovering at our table. No warning. No hello. Just his beady, calculating eyes leveling Rust with a glare that makes me nervous. I instinctively rope an arm around Rain’s shoulders and pull her into me.
“What are you doing here?”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking to me, the question so absurd it’s almost laughable. When I don’t answer, he clarifies with, “I didn’t see your Porsche parked outside.”
He’s still bitter at me for shutting him down at Gold Bonds after the Ferrari deal. “No, you didn’t.” A small part of me has wondered if Vlad had something to do with the jacking, just to be a dick. Rust told me not to say anything, but I can’t help myself. “It’s actually in the police impound, being processed for evidence after some asshole stole it. Would you know anything about that?”
Vlad’s eyes bulge momentarily before he composes himself.
Rust sighs. “Vlad, what brings you here?” By Rust’s expression, he’s not surprised by the visit in the least. He waves for another glass and then slides in, making room for the asshole.
Vlad answers Rust in Russian, his tone cold and cutting. “I heard about the SUVs.”
Shit. The deal with Aref. This clearly isn’t a social call.
Rain’s fingers dig into my leg, looking up at me questioningly. She must sense the tone. Russian doesn’t sound poetic at the best of times. Angry Russian sounds downright scary.
Rust takes his time, sucking back a swig of his vodka. “And?”
“And you are using our connections to do it.” More Russian. Vlad refuses to speak in anything but.