Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(18)

Or herself?

“What do you really want?” I asked, going for broke. Sometimes the best way to get answers to your questions was to toss them out there.

She quirked an eyebrow. “You expect me to just lay all my cards out?”

“Worth asking.”

Bryce leaned forward on her desk, her eyes finally showing that addictive spark. “I want to know why the Tin Gypsies shut down.”

“That’s it?”

Bryce nodded. “That’s it.”

I’d been expecting something more. Maybe that she wanted to see all the former Gypsies rotting in prison. “Why?”

“You were the leader of one of the most powerful motorcycle gangs in the region. I’m sure that meant money. And power. Yet you shut it down without any explanation. For what? A life as a grease monkey? No way. It’s too easy. It’s too clean. You’re hiding something.”

“We’re not,” I lied. We were hiding so much that if she knew the truth, she’d never look at me the same way again. There’d be no more hints of attraction, no checking me out when she thought I wasn’t noticing. She’d look at me like the criminal I’d been.

Like the criminals we’d all been.

“Ah, yes. The standard deflection.” Bryce rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I’m not buying it.”

“There’s no big story here.” Another lie that she wasn’t going to believe.

“If that’s the truth, then why did you break apart?”

“Off the record?” I asked.

“No way.”

“Of course not.” I chuckled. And of course, she wasn’t cutting me any breaks. I’d always liked the feisty ones. “Then I guess we’re at a stalemate.”

“A stalemate?” She scoffed. “This is no stalemate. I’m twenty steps ahead of you and we both know it. Why exactly did you come in here today?”

“My dad is innocent. If you give the cops some time, they’ll prove it too. You doing your best to prove to the world he’s guilty is only going to make you look like a fool.”

“I’m not scared to look like a fool.” She’d called my bluff—like always—but I wasn’t buying it. Something flashed in those eyes that looked a lot like the first sign of weakness.

“You sure about that? New reporter in a new town, going balls-out on a murder investigation like she’s some wannabe fucking gumshoe. She sticks her neck out there to try and slime a well-known citizen. A business owner who gives back to his community. When he comes out clean, you’ll be the one who looks dirty. You’re part owner here, right?”

“Yes. Your point?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“My point is . . . my family has lived in Clifton Forge for generations. We’re well-known. And well liked. In their day, so were the Gypsies.”

“So you’re saying if I don’t take your side that people in town will hate me? I can live with that.”

“Can you? Small-town newspaper, can’t be making a ton of money. It only takes one rumor that you’re printing false information for people to stop reading.”

The color rose in her cheeks, the fire flaring in her eyes. “I don’t like being threatened.”

“And I don’t like repeating myself. You had your warning. Stay out of this.”

“No.” She looked me dead in the eye. “Not until I get the truth.”

My temper spiked and I stood, shoving the chair from out of between my legs so I could lean over the desk with my arms planted wide on its surface. “You want the truth? Here’s the truth. I’ve seen and done things that would give you nightmares. The truth would make your stomach curl. You’d go running from this town and never look back. Be glad you don’t know the truth. Back the fuck off. Now.”

“Screw you.” She shot out of her seat, leaning in to stand nose to nose so the only thing separating us was the desk. “I’m not backing down.”

“You will.”

“Never.”

The sound of her teeth grinding drew my attention to her lips. The urge to kiss her was stronger than it had ever been with her, or with any other woman for that matter. With the desk between us, I probably wouldn’t get kneed in the nuts.

I leaned in an inch and her breath hitched. When I tore my eyes away from her lips, her gaze was locked on my mouth. Her chest was heaving, her breasts rising and falling underneath her V-neck blouse. My threat to her livelihood hadn’t done a goddamn thing except turn us both on. Was she ever going to back down? Son of a bitch.

I was one second away from saying to hell with it all and smashing my lips on hers when the door behind her flew open. Lane Ryan walked in, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. He took one look at me and his daughter and the smile fell from his face. “Everything okay?”

“Great.” Bryce dropped into her chair, combing a lock of hair behind her ear with her fingers. “Dash and I were just discussing today’s paper.”

I leaned back from the desk and took a deep breath, my cock swollen and painful in my jeans. I turned away from Bryce and her father, taking a moment to let it calm down as I righted the chair I’d shoved away.

Then, I stepped up to Lane and held out my hand. “Good to see you, Lane.”