Run the Risk
Page 8

 Lori Foster

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“You did,” she corrected. “But it’s okay. A low profile is what’s most important, right?”
“I don’t like it.”
“There’s not much you do like these days.” She sighed, feeling for her brother, worried about him, and so tired of all the subterfuge. “Please, believe me, Rowdy. I won’t take any risks.”
“Maybe not on purpose, but that was a risk you took last night, so I’m going to check into him.”
Hmm… “Maybe you could find out where he works.”
“Ask him,” Rowdy said. “We’ll see if what he says to you meshes with what I find.”
“All right.” If the opportunity presented itself, she could try a little prying.
“Give me a week or two to find out what I can about him. Until then, watch your ass.”
Of course she would. Not like anyone else was watching it. Well, except her brother—and she could do with a little less vigilance from him, especially now that Logan was in the picture. “Love you, Rowdy.”
His voice softened. “Love you, too, kid.” And then, right before he hung up, he admonished, “Behave.”
Pepper put the phone back on her nightstand. It would be so nice to visit with Rowdy, to spend an entire day with him. But he wouldn’t allow it.
She understood why, but that didn’t stop her from missing him, more and more each day.
It saddened her, but as she tried to get to sleep, it was Logan she thought of, not her brother.
And that disturbed her most of all.
* * *
ON THE THIRD FLOOR of his exclusive, all-service club, Morton Andrews held court. Idiots surrounded him, but they were his idiots, loyal to him, afraid of his influence, so he tolerated them.
He eyed the cop who’d just entered. No, he wouldn’t offer a seat. He’d show no courtesy at all.
Cops had to remember their place—as hired help. “Is it true that Rowdy Yates has turned up?”
Surprise showed, but then was quickly covered. “Where did you hear that?”
Interesting. So maybe there was some truth to it. “You forget my many tentacles? I have ears everywhere. You know that.”
A nod of acknowledgment. “Yes, I know that.”
Morton accepted he had few virtues, and patience definitely wasn’t one of them. “Well?”
“There’s nothing concrete on Rowdy.”
It irked him sometimes, that cool confidence, the near disdain. Others cowered around him. Others understood the threat. But not this one. “You’ll let me know when there is?”
“Of course.”
Truth, or false assurances? Didn’t matter. In his own way, and in his own time, Morton knew he’d get to the bottom of it. For now, it amused him to let the illusion of trust exist. “All right, then.” And just to be a prick, he said, “You can go now.”
Taking the dismissal with no show of insult, the cop turned and left.
Morton shook his head. To his way of thinking, the only good cop was dirty—or dead. He’d yet to decide the fate of this one. But soon…
* * *
FOR THREE DAYS, Logan kept his distance. It wasn’t easy, but he wanted Pepper to think about him, to anticipate seeing him. Anticipation could break down her barriers, and that’s what he needed.
After spending the day working for his brother Dash, he’d expended a lot of tension. Physical labor always did that for him. Sunshine, sweat, using his hands, working his shoulders and thighs…he enjoyed it.
Likely Dash did as well, which would explain why he’d not only bought the company, but worked alongside the laborers on a regular basis.
There’d been a lot of concrete work throughout the afternoon. Sweat flattened his hair to his head and kept his T-shirt glued to his back. Everywhere he stepped, his dusty boots left footprints. Too much sun made his face feel tight.
And still he loved it.
Dash had the right idea. Make his own way doing good, honest labor, and build a great reputation at the same time.
It didn’t hurt that the construction company gave Logan great cover. No one knew he and Dash were related, so no one paid him any attention. On the construction site, he was just one more grunt, there to help with the physical workload.
Just as he reached his door, Pepper’s opened.
Satisfaction burned in his gut.
He glanced up, saw her standing there uncertainly, and smiled. “Hey, Sue.” He continued to unlock his door, pushed it open. “What’s up?”
“I, ah…”
He glanced at her again, a brow raised.
“I haven’t seen you for a few days.”
“Been working.” He leaned in the door to drop a thermos and hard hat. “That’s how construction is. You don’t work for a month, then you’re nonstop busy for a while.”
“Construction?” She eased farther into the hallway.
Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Logan rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. “Yeah.” He gestured. “You want to come in? I need to shower and grab some dinner, but then we can visit.”
“Oh.” Shaking her head, she retreated a step. “No, I—”
Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he reached for her, caught her hand, and pulled her forward into the hall and then into his apartment. “I only need a few minutes. What’d you have planned for dinner? I’m starving.”
Not the most subtle hint, but maybe she’d be female enough to pick up on it and take pity on him.