Down & Dirty Page 2

  With that, he slammed the register drawer shut and stalked away.

  Lizzy watched.

  And waited.

  And tried like hell to keep the cocktail of rage, praise and outright fear mushrooming up in her chest from spewing all over the seemingly unfazed man next to her. She made it until Vic and his flat ass disappeared into the back office. By some miracle, her first words came out surprisingly restrained. “Tell me you’re a friend of Rex’s and not some stranger who not only just squarely stuck his nose right in the middle of my business, but knows enough details of my bookings to make me seriously uneasy.”

  There was no hint to the smile he shot her this time, the sheer devilment behind the curve of his full lips potent enough to make the most hardened woman giggle like a little girl. “Don’t know anyone named Rex, lass, so we’re gonna have to go with door number two. Though, I wouldn’t let the fact that I knew how much you’d booked the gig for tweak you too much. Vic’s not the most creative guy. Every band that’s worth a damned gets the same deal.”

  “And you know about bands and their going rates because...”

  “Because I know music and I know bar owners.” He faced her fully and held out his hand. “Axel McKee.”

  Damn, but the man’s voice was a weapon. Rich, deep, and made all the more intoxicating with the accent. But that was nothing compared to his presence. To the raw, masculine energy emanating off him and the startling focus behind his brilliant green eyes.

  He kept his hand steady. Patiently waiting for her to take what he offered.

  A crossroad moment.

  How she knew it, she couldn’t say, but she felt it in her bones. Intuited the gravity of the situation the way prey recognized a predator had marked them as a target.

  And yet, rather than run, she lifted her hand and pressed her palm against his.

  Oh. Holy. Hell.

  A shiver she didn’t have a prayer of containing moved through her and her breath hitched with all the subtlety of a woman who’d just felt a man’s lips on the back of her neck for the first time.

  His fingers tightened around hers. A tangible testament that he’d felt and witnessed her response, which in itself should have mortified her. Instead the deepened connection resonated through her like a tether in the middle of straight-line wind.

  “Lizzy Hemming.” The quaver in her response and the sexual rasp that went with it slapped her well-honed sense of self-preservation back into place, and she tugged her hand free with an awkward abruptness. “Though, you appear to already know that.”

  “Everyone in this bar knows your name.”

  “True, but not one of them saw fit to saunter over here and put my band’s income at risk.”

  His smile really was a killer. Quick and loaded with mischief. “Vic’s an idiot, but he’s not that stupid. You covered a week’s worth of hourly wages for half of his staff on his cut of the door alone, and the way he’s trained his bartenders to short people on most of the drinks, you put him squarely in the black for the rest of the month. The last thing that’s gonna happen is you losing a booking.” He cocked his head the same way he had with Vic, only without the dangerous vibe behind his eyes. “Now, if you’re ready to stop playing gigs like this, that’s a whole different conversation.”

  Every DEFCON alarm hardwired from past experience went off at once, blaring with enough decibels to nearly make her outwardly wince. As lead-ins went, it was a smooth one, but she’d learned the hard way what trusting smooth talkers earned you. Especially the hot ones. “How exactly is it you know Vic, but he doesn’t know you? And what do you mean, I know music?”

  “I know Vic because—bad business man or not—he books good bands, and I make it my business to keep an eye out for good music in and around Texas. I know music because I love it. Have my whole life.”

  “You make it your business why?”

  His expression shifted. Narrowed with a shrewdness that made her feel as though he’d easily peeled away all her armor and studied the raw woman underneath. “You’re a guarded woman, Elizabeth. Why is that?”

  “No one calls me Elizabeth. It doesn’t fit. Never has.”

  One look. Ruthless determination behind his eyes and an uncompromising firmness to his lips. “It fits you perfectly. You’re just afraid to wear it.” He held her gaze a second longer as if to make sure his words sank in, then kept going. “Vic’s known for the move he tried to make with you. When I overheard him trying it tonight and heard the frustration in your voice, I moved in because bullies piss me off.”

  “I would’ve handled it.”

  “Sure, you would’ve. But you hate doing it. I knew it the second you stopped looking at me and shifted your attention to him. Plus, you handling it would’ve robbed me of the chance to hand him his ass.”

  He slid one hand in his pocket and pulled out a slim case made of a fine camel-colored leather. He slid a business card free. “I’m a businessman. I’ve got fingers in more industries than even I can sometimes keep track of, but the one that interests me most is music because it’s what I love. I’ve watched you and your band for a while, and I think you’ve got tremendous talent. The trick to making the most of it is maximizing the things you do well and surrounding yourself with people who can better handle the things you can’t.” He handed over the card, his stare so potent the mere act of breathing seemed impossible. “Think about it. If you decide you’re willing to lower the drawbridge enough to talk, this is how to reach me.”

  With a grin bordering on smug, he dipped his chin and ambled toward the exit with the same confident air he’d exuded from the second she’d laid eyes on him.

  What just happened?

  The single thought whipped round and round in her head, propelled by a frustrating mix of want, appreciation and fury that made absolutely no sense. She’d have probably stood there forever if the sound of footsteps coming from behind her and Rex’s smoker-raspy voice didn’t prod her out of her trance. “Hey, kiddo. Who was that?”

  She faced her near-lifelong friend, not bothering to hide what was likely a dumbfounded expression. With his gray hair well past his chin, faded Nirvana tee and even more faded jeans, Rex was the antithesis of the man who’d just walked away. More rugged than GQ. But just laying eyes on his tired mug helped her surface in reality and draw a decent breath. She glanced at the card pinched tightly between her fingers then back at the door. “I have no idea. But you can bet your ass I’m going to find out.”

  Chapter Two

  Only two days into June and the heat was already stout enough to cause a visual shimmer off the busy four-lane that ran in front of Crossroads. Not exactly a surprising turn of events for Dallas, Texas. What was surprising was Axel spending a sizable chunk of his Saturday afternoon staring out the window and noticing those kind of bullshit details. Brooding wasn’t his style, but for the last week he’d been stuck in a hell of a rut, trying to figure out if it was time to dig in deeper, or cut bait.

  Swiveling his mammoth leather desk chair back to his desk, he refocused on the employee schedules he still had to knock out for the rest of June. Being this far behind on logistics of any kind wasn’t his modus operandi either, and the fact that he’d let things ride this long just proved how much his first encounter with Lizzy Hemming had fucked with his head.

  Footfalls sounded in the long conference room that joined his and Jace’s offices on Crossroads’ third floor, their weight and determined strides muted only by the room’s plush black carpet. Jace showed in the doorway all of two seconds later. “You sure you’re good to handle tonight?”

  The inclination to growl in lieu of a civil answer was mighty damned tempting, and with anyone else, would’ve been a foregone conclusion in his present mood, but considering Jace had put up with his shite since they were both five, he reined it in.

  Or at least tried to.

  “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?”

  Jace braced his forearm on the doorjamb and grinned like Axel had just launched some ridiculously clever joke. “I’m guessing that big window next to your desk doesn’t cast much of a reflection, ’cause if it did, you’d see the same red-headed ogre all the rest of us have been putting up with.” He paused long enough to give the toothpick anchored at one corner of his mouth a spin with his tongue. “You ever gonna talk about what’s up your ass, or are we gonna keep ignoring the pissed off elephant in the room?”

  “I don’t meddle in your shite, brother. Don’t meddle in mine.”

  “Don’t meddle, my ass. You get up in everyone else’s business faster than both of our busybody mothers combined when it suits your purpose.” He pushed off the jamb and ambled toward one of the two black leather guest chairs angled in front of his desk like he hadn’t just thrown a prime gauntlet down. Unlike a good portion of the crowd that would pour through their front doors tonight, Jace didn’t give a damn about dressing to impress or what anyone thought of him. Faded tees, jeans and boots fit his mood 99.9 percent of the time, and today was no exception. The fact that his dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail for the first time in weeks was more a testament to the gusty winds outside than anything to do with style.

  Jace dropped down in one of the chairs, knees wide and elbows braced on either side of him in a let’s-cut-the-shit pose. “You said you were out scouting last weekend.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  Jace studied him a beat, one of those cautious evaluations that usually meant he was about to go for the jugular. “So, I happened to see Lizzy Hemming was playing at The Crow. Your shitty mood tanked all of three days later.”

  Hell, he wished it’d tanked three days later
. The truth was, he’d been pissed as hell before he’d so much as made it to his Shelby in the parking lot. He’d just managed to keep the fury contained until he’d gone a full seventy-two hours without getting a call from Lizzy before reality started sinking in. “You been watching Dr. Phil again?”

  Typical Jace. Rather than bite and start trading good-natured insults the way the rest of their brothers would, he just grinned and counted the non-answer as a bull’s-eye. “So, you did go see her.”

  “Yeah, I saw her.”

  “And?”

  And he’d plowed through the whole damned thing fifty kinds of wrong. Another in the growing list of behaviors outside the norm for him. Musicians normally loved him. Men, women—it didn’t matter. Inside thirty seconds, he could usually strike a decent chord with any of them and have them lined up and ready to play in any one of his and Jace’s venues shortly after. He also couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone off so half-cocked. “You know that bullshit no-full-house-no-cut maneuver Vicente’s been known to pull with some of the bands he’s booked?”

  Jace eyes widened. “He’s still pulling that shit?”

  Axel dipped his chin. “Tried it with Lizzy and the place was at full capacity.”

  The same knee-jerk anger Axel had processed last weekend must have moved through Jace, because a whole lot of pissed off settled into his expression. “I take it you intervened?”

  “Not gonna let that fucker bend a stranger over the proverbial barrel, let alone a talent I’ve been watching for months. Of course, I stepped in.”

  “And?”

  And he’d miscalculated. Had gotten so wrapped up in the need to shove Vic’s dick down his throat, he’d forgotten to factor in how Lizzy might feel about such an action. “She got the cut she earned, but it cost me getting off on the right foot. I gave her my number and haven’t heard a damned thing since.”

  The lack of an immediate response from Jace was about as uncomfortable as the prospect of his nuts getting crunched in a vise. When he finally rallied, the whole ball-crunching discomfort jumped to a new level. “Why are you watching this girl?”

  Girl?

  Axel might not know the nitty-gritty on Elizabeth Hemming’s history, but he had a hunch girl was the least fitting word to describe her. Female, yes. Woman, definitely. But, girl?

  No way.

  If anything, he figured she’d come out of the womb with the presence and attitude of an Amazon. God knew, she’d grown into the physical equivalent and it turned him way the fuck on.

  He shoved the response that always tried to force its way free with thoughts of Lizzy into someplace he hoped Jace couldn’t see and stuck with the basics. “She’s got a great voice. Pure velvet on her lower range and a powerhouse at the top. Her songwriting skills are off the chart, and her presence on stage is electric. A rock star just waiting to happen. The crowd eats her up.”

  Jace grinned like Axel had all but shown his ass. “I didn’t ask about her skills, brother. I asked why you’re watching her.”

  “And I told you. She’s gifted.”

  This time Jace huffed out a chuckle, hung his head and shook it. “I think you’re missing the point.”

  “Then fucking make it already.”

  Jace lifted his head and lowered his voice. “You don’t watch anyone. When you see a band you want to book, you book ’em. When you see a business you want to build, you build it. Our whole damned life you’ve zeroed in on what you want and made the magic happen.” He leaned forward so his elbows were braced on his knees and pinned Axel with a hard stare. “What you don’t do is watch and do nothing. So, I’ll put it a different way. You want this woman. You can say it’s on a professional basis all you want, but that’s bullshit and we both know it. So, she hasn’t called. Stop fucking around and do what you do best. Make the magic happen.”

  He wanted to. Badly. More so than he dared to admit even to Jace. Failure wasn’t something he’d ever been afraid of at any other step in his life, but somehow failing with Lizzy on either a personal or professional level left him stone-cold terrified. “She’s got a past. No clue what, but she’s got as much armor stacked around her as the rest of our brothers put together.” He paused all of a heartbeat and forced out the rest. “Not sure I’ve got the ammunition to get past it.”

  The sound that came out of Jace’s mouth as he pushed upright and reclined against the seat back was part scoff, part amusement. “You’re overthinking it. You said a few weeks ago she didn’t have a manager, and you forget I’ve seen a few pics of this girl. Looking like she does with no one to back her up? Hard to know who to trust and who not to. Especially with men like Vic. She’s gotta keep her guard up.”

  “Not sure about the manager thing anymore. Vic mentioned some guy named Rex when our head-to-head was going on, so maybe I was wrong.”

  “Jesus, you’re the poster child for gloom and doom.” Jace sighed. “Who gives a damn who this Rex guy is? You’ve got some of the best venues in Texas to book. That alone’s a solid reason to push competition out of the way.” His eyes narrowed. “I take it you didn’t tell her what kind of gig you were looking to book.”

  “You know how people act when they find out I’m the one booking The Green and Crossroads.”

  “Yeah, they sit up a whole lot taller and ask where to sign.”

  And therein lay the root of the problem. “If she’s gonna work with me, I don’t want it to be just because I can fill her calendar.”

  “Why? What else would you do?”

  Axel’s chest got tight, memories, hopes and dreams quashed years ago battering behind his sternum. Just saying the words out loud was a challenge. “When I say this woman’s got talent, I mean she’s gifted. The whole package.”

  “Yeah. I get it.” Jace paused all of a beat, then threw down a familiar taunt. “So were you.”

  He had been, once upon a time. But dreams changed and with change came new ideas. New risks. “That ship sailed a long time ago, and we both know it.”

  He met Jace’s stare. To this point, he’d kept his plans to himself, too cautious about breathing life into his ideas too soon. But this was Jace. His brother in every way that counted. He took a deep breath and went for it. “That said, the ship hasn’t sailed for her.”

  Jace stayed stock still. Not so much as a muscle or a twitch to telegraph what he was thinking. “What’s that mean?”

  Axel shrugged and hoped it downplayed the significance of what he was out to do. “It means I might be too old to chase a dream, but I’ve sure as shit learned the ropes. If I can’t have what I wanted growing up, I figure the next best thing is to make it happen for someone else.”

  Apparently, his efforts at downplaying missed by a mile because a whole lot of comprehension rearranged Jace’s passive expression to one of genuine shock in seconds. “You want to launch her.”

  Launch seemed a little lacking. Maybe a fitting word eight days ago, but now that he’d met her—now that he’d felt the guardedness in her and seen the pain behind her striking blue eyes—he wanted to hand her the world on a silver platter. Which made absolutely no sense given the fact she didn’t seem interested in even talking. “Why not? I’ve got the means, the knowledge and the connections to do it.”

  Jace held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not knocking it. If we can’t get your ass back in front of a crowd, then we might as well have your protégée.”

  “Yeah, well... I gotta find out who this Rex guy is first.”

  “Ask Knox. Hell, for that matter, ask Darya. She’d be tickled as shit to help you land a woman.”

  Axel glared at him. “Don’t go there. That’s not what this is. And even if it was, it’d be way too soon to get family involved.”

  Jace chuckled and hit him with that chicken-shit smug grin again. “Right. Just a run-of-the-mill business deal. I get it.” He stood and started back toward the conference room. “You keep tellin’ yourself that one. Let me know how it works out for ya.”