Gypsy King (Tin Gypsy, #1)(57)

“Damn, she’s good.” The way she held her body was confident and poised. She didn’t flaunt her looks the way some women did to hold you captive. She didn’t push out her chest or give him a shy smile. There wasn’t a damn thing shy about her smile, and that’s why it was so devastating.

She stood there like the goddess she was and let Leo look her up and down, knowing that he liked what he saw. And knowing she was in complete control.

My dick stirred. I’d screwed up by not staying at her place last night. We were a short-term thing and I wanted to savor it while it lasted. I wouldn’t make the same mistake tonight.

“What do you say?” Leo licked his lips.

Bryce took a step closer. “I’d eat you alive, pretty boy. Save the special service for someone who’ll take your orders in bed.”

Leo’s jaw dropped.

Bryce spun on a heel and marched my way. “Do you guys all deliver the same line to get women into bed? Offering them a ride? Does it actually work?”

I grinned. “Every time.”

“Not every time.” She smirked.

“True.” I’d acted the same way as Leo that first day she’d come to the garage. And she’d shot me down. “We only use that line in the summer. We can’t ride in the winter so we come up with something new.”

“Given your reputation, it’s got to be better.”

I shrugged. “Not always. Sometimes all it takes is hello.”

“Let’s be done talking about this.” A flare of annoyance—and jealousy?—laced her voice. Whatever she was feeling, she shoved it away and extended her hand to Emmett. “I’m Bryce Ryan.”

“Emmett Stone.” He held her gaze, as if assessing a potential enemy.

“Who’s this?” Leo glared at Bryce as he came to stand by Emmett.

“Bryce Ryan,” she spoke at the same time I said, “She’s the new reporter in town.”

“Ahh. The pain in our ass.”

“Or the woman who might actually be able to help clear your boss’s name,” she shot back.

“Cool it. She’s on our team, Leo.” I sent him a warning glare. “We’re working together.”

His scowl deepened as another engine’s thunder signaled its approach.

Dad pulled into the garage, parking by Leo, and wasted no time coming right up to Bryce and holding out his hand. “Bryce. I’m Draven. Didn’t get to meet you the last time we were both here.”

“Yes.” She shook his hand. “You were a bit busy that day.”

Did she have to remind him of the arrest? I got that it was her way of exerting some control over the situation, sending a message that Dad wouldn’t intimidate her either. But she risked pissing him off. He was tight-lipped about this whole thing enough as it was.

Christ. I was going to end up playing mediator between the guys and Bryce.

“Let’s talk inside.” I waved everyone into the garage.

We all assumed places in the garage. Leo and Emmett both hopped up onto a tool bench. I stood against a wall. Dad stood in the center of the room, his legs planted wide and arms over his chest.

And Bryce, to torture me, went and leaned against the Mustang.

“How much does she know?” Dad asked, staring right at Bryce.

“Enough to bury you if you betray me,” she answered.

“Enough that she knows the risks involved,” I corrected. “We have an arrangement. It’s between me and her. And not the point of this meet.”

“She’s an outsider. And not part of—”

I held up a hand, silencing Leo’s protest. “It’s done.”

The garage went still. Bryce looked around the room, waiting to see if anyone would object. But Leo’s would be the last. At least, the last objection while she was in the room. Emmett would corner me later and voice his concerns. Dad wouldn’t object; he knew it was too late. His criticism would only come if I’d made a mistake and we were dealing with the fallout of Bryce writing a story that condemned us all.

“Emmett and Leo”—I looked to them— “any word around town about who might have it out for Dad?”

Both shook their heads as Emmett spoke up. “There’s nothing. Not a hint. I even met with a couple of old members who’d gone to the Warriors. They could be lying, but I don’t think it’s them.”

“That goes with the story they gave us when we met with them and Tucker.”

“It’s quiet because everyone thinks Draven did it,” Leo said.

My gaze met Bryce’s, silently reinforcing my message. He didn’t kill her. “Listen. Yesterday, Bryce and I went to—”

“How long were you sleeping with Amina?” Bryce fired the question at Dad.

“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled. So much for giving Dad a little background about our trip yesterday before springing it on him.

“I spent the night with her,” Dad answered, the tension in the garage spiking. “Though, you already knew that.”

“Not the night before she was killed.” Bryce shook her head. “Before. How many times did you go visit her?”

His eyebrows came together. “Visit her?”

“We went to her house in Bozeman yesterday,” I explained. “Looked around. Her neighbor said she had a guy about my height and your age visit every few weekends. Was it you?”