Snow Blind - Lori G. Armstrong [73]
He said, “Hey, baby doll, scoot over.” Once he’d invaded my space, he kissed me. Not a sweet little peck; a real tonsil scratcher. Then he bestowed a dazzling grin upon Trish. “You must be Brittney’s mother.”
She was absolutely poleaxed. “Ah, yeah.”
“I’m Tony.”
“Ah. Hi. Tony.”
Misty plodded over with a cup. “Mr. Martinez!
Nice to see you again.”
“Good to be here, Misty. Just coffee today, thanks.”
All three hundred pounds of Misty floated off in the glow of Martinez’s megawatt smile.
Jerk.
Trish was staring at him. Half-drooling, really, which pissed me off.
Finally, she managed a small measure of composure. 258
“So, you know Brittney?”
“Heckuva card player. She’s kicked my butt in Crazy Eights a time or two when she’s been at our place.”
“Our place?” Trish repeated.
“Technically it’s Julie’s house, but I’m always there.”
I bit back my retort, not lately, when Tony squeezed my thigh under the table as a warning.
“Oh. I didn’t know you lived together.”
“Really? We’ve been together for what? Almost nine months?”
“Eight.”
“Time flies in a vacuum, doesn’t it? Pass me the sweetener, would ya, sugar?”
Sugar?
Martinez doctored his coffee, chatting with Trish like it was old home week. “Julie’s been reluctant to introduce the rest of her family. Which is unfair since my brothers know all about her and every crazy thing she does. She’s a real pistol.”
Oh, fuck.
Trish said, “Maybe you’d like to come over for dinner sometime?”
No no no.
“Pick the day and I guarantee we’ll be there, won’t we?”
He’d have to kill me first. And then drag my body behind his Harley.
259
Trish slipped out of the booth and zipped her parka. “Nice to meet you, Tony. I’ll be in touch soon, Julie. Thanks.”
Before Trish was out the door I hissed, “Sugar?
Move your smarmy ass out of my way, Martinez, before I kick it.”
“Not on your fucking life, blondie. You and I are gonna have a little chat.”
“Yes, I will accept your apology along with a really expensive gift.”
“Wrong. I had an interesting morning.”
“Bully for you. Mine was the usual.”
“Shooting the fuck out of stuff isn’t the usual even for you.”
“No, I meant the usual, I woke up alone again.”
“Not touching the ‘alone’ comment, because technically, you weren’t supposed to be alone.”
“Technically if you aren’t in our bed or our place I am alone, so try again, bucko.”
He muttered something in Spanish.
“English.”
“Fine. Let’s start when Dietz calls PT and says he’s blown the surveillance on you on the first fucking day. Then PT calls me, suggesting I haul ass to the clubhouse.
“So, Dietz rolls up in the bullet-riddled Toyota, and throws himself at my feet, begging for mercy, blubbering about my psycho old lady and your equally psycho sidekick. Meantime, my entire fucking security 260
team is practically rolling on the ground laughing, laughing at what you’ve done to the goddamn car.”
“Were you laughing?”
“No. Not then. Not now.”
Damn.
“Your safety isn’t something I joke about. Ever.”
“Then you shouldn’t have sent a dumb ass like Dietz to follow me. Besides, I warned you what I’d do if you sent spies after me again.”
“And now, all the Hombres know you’ll follow through on your threats. Not a bad way to get your point across. But that doesn’t change the basic fact—”
“—that you sent someone to protect me and you still won’t tell me why I need protection?”
Silent tough guy moment.
“Am I in danger?”
“You wouldn’t be if you’d let me protect you.”
“From what?”
Another no answer moment to add to the others.
“I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself.”
We still hadn’t made eye contact.
I’d done nothing wrong, and yet, I knew I’d crack first. My fingers twisted in the chain of my necklace.
“It wasn’t my intention to make problems for you in front of your brothers.”
“Problems? Now the main problem is those
brothers—mostly members of my security team—have 261
started a Julie Collins fan club. They