Read Online Touch Slowly (Red Light: Silver Girls series) by Debra Kayn - Free Book Online
Authors: Debra Kayn
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falling into the paneled wall. "Sorry. I didn't see you."
"It's okay." Nova held up her hand. "I was just going to Shayla's room."
He glanced down at the one-hundred-dollar bill grasped in her bright, red fingernailed grip. "What you do is none of my business, but if you're bringing biker business into the park, I'll stop you."
"Uh, biker what?"
"The money. Drugs. Your people."
She shook her head. "I'm not following."
"People around here do a lot of things to make extra money. It's a fact of life." The palms of his hands warmed, and he loosened his hold on her without letting her go. "Shayla and Nick are good people. Don't bring trouble to their house by getting them involved in selling drugs for the people you hang around."
She stared up at him, transfixed until her eyes changed from hazel to narrowed dark moons with only her pupils showing and shoved him away. His back hit the wall, rocking the trailer.
"God, you are such a dick," she muttered.
Nova walked into Shayla's room, put the money on her dresser, and returned to the hallway. Ignoring him, she swept past him and returned to the main part of the house.
He blew out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Her misplaced temper with him only made her look guilty. While with her cousins, she played off as being here for a good time. He had a feeling no one in the house knew what Nova was doing in town and by the time they figured it out, it'd be too late.
He wouldn't let one woman ruin a family he'd grown close to and considered friends.
After washing up, he sat down at the table—comfortable enough for two people, awkward for four. Crammed between Nova, who scooted her chair an inch away from him, and Shayla, he took a paper plate from the middle of the table and loaded his plate as the toppings for the tacos were passed left to right.
"We haven’t had tacos since we moved here." Nick reached for the sour cream. "Usually, it's sloppy Joes on a Friday."
"Please." Nova leaned forward. "Tell me Shayla still uses that filler extender Aunt Jennie always put in the meat."
"Of course." Shayla held her taco up and tilted her head. "Even though there's usually only me and Nick here, we can make the meal stretch two, sometimes three nights."
"God, that was my favorite dinner." Nova took a bite, set the taco down, and wiped her mouth. "Promise you'll make them next Friday."
"Will you still be here?" asked Emmett.
Nova slowly turned in his direction. After a healthy pause, she said, "Yes."
"Your boss must be one hell of a guy letting you have all this time off." Emmett picked an olive off his taco, popped it in his mouth, and pressed the matter of what she did for a living. "Doesn't he expect you to be painting or drawing?"
"I work for an art gallery setting up consultations and selling art." Nova squeezed her taco with both hands and brought it to her mouth.
Her smooth, canned answer frustrated him. He knew otherwise what she was doing in Federal.
He laughed, irritating her more. "Since when has Moroad Motorcycle Club become interested in art? Unless you're pushing illegal paintings. I don't think I've ever heard of them doing anything legit."
Shayla cleared her throat. "Does anyone want a glass of milk? Water?"
"No, thanks." Emmett never glanced away from the woman he was determined to get answers from. "Tell me, Nova. What kind of art does a member of a biker gang like?"
"Do you know Nova is an artist, too? She doesn't only sell paintings; she's known for her street art." Shayla slapped Nick's arm. "Tell Emmett how popular Nova was back home in Long Beach. Everyone knew who she was by the pictures she painted around town."
"Yeah, she made a name for herself with the cops who were always trying to catch her," said Nick, winking at Nova. "They never caught her, though."
"Street art? Is that graffiti?" Emmett brushed his hands off on the thighs of his jeans and leaned back in his chair. "Is that why you were going inside the Sterling Building?"
Nick raised his
"It's okay." Nova held up her hand. "I was just going to Shayla's room."
He glanced down at the one-hundred-dollar bill grasped in her bright, red fingernailed grip. "What you do is none of my business, but if you're bringing biker business into the park, I'll stop you."
"Uh, biker what?"
"The money. Drugs. Your people."
She shook her head. "I'm not following."
"People around here do a lot of things to make extra money. It's a fact of life." The palms of his hands warmed, and he loosened his hold on her without letting her go. "Shayla and Nick are good people. Don't bring trouble to their house by getting them involved in selling drugs for the people you hang around."
She stared up at him, transfixed until her eyes changed from hazel to narrowed dark moons with only her pupils showing and shoved him away. His back hit the wall, rocking the trailer.
"God, you are such a dick," she muttered.
Nova walked into Shayla's room, put the money on her dresser, and returned to the hallway. Ignoring him, she swept past him and returned to the main part of the house.
He blew out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. Her misplaced temper with him only made her look guilty. While with her cousins, she played off as being here for a good time. He had a feeling no one in the house knew what Nova was doing in town and by the time they figured it out, it'd be too late.
He wouldn't let one woman ruin a family he'd grown close to and considered friends.
After washing up, he sat down at the table—comfortable enough for two people, awkward for four. Crammed between Nova, who scooted her chair an inch away from him, and Shayla, he took a paper plate from the middle of the table and loaded his plate as the toppings for the tacos were passed left to right.
"We haven’t had tacos since we moved here." Nick reached for the sour cream. "Usually, it's sloppy Joes on a Friday."
"Please." Nova leaned forward. "Tell me Shayla still uses that filler extender Aunt Jennie always put in the meat."
"Of course." Shayla held her taco up and tilted her head. "Even though there's usually only me and Nick here, we can make the meal stretch two, sometimes three nights."
"God, that was my favorite dinner." Nova took a bite, set the taco down, and wiped her mouth. "Promise you'll make them next Friday."
"Will you still be here?" asked Emmett.
Nova slowly turned in his direction. After a healthy pause, she said, "Yes."
"Your boss must be one hell of a guy letting you have all this time off." Emmett picked an olive off his taco, popped it in his mouth, and pressed the matter of what she did for a living. "Doesn't he expect you to be painting or drawing?"
"I work for an art gallery setting up consultations and selling art." Nova squeezed her taco with both hands and brought it to her mouth.
Her smooth, canned answer frustrated him. He knew otherwise what she was doing in Federal.
He laughed, irritating her more. "Since when has Moroad Motorcycle Club become interested in art? Unless you're pushing illegal paintings. I don't think I've ever heard of them doing anything legit."
Shayla cleared her throat. "Does anyone want a glass of milk? Water?"
"No, thanks." Emmett never glanced away from the woman he was determined to get answers from. "Tell me, Nova. What kind of art does a member of a biker gang like?"
"Do you know Nova is an artist, too? She doesn't only sell paintings; she's known for her street art." Shayla slapped Nick's arm. "Tell Emmett how popular Nova was back home in Long Beach. Everyone knew who she was by the pictures she painted around town."
"Yeah, she made a name for herself with the cops who were always trying to catch her," said Nick, winking at Nova. "They never caught her, though."
"Street art? Is that graffiti?" Emmett brushed his hands off on the thighs of his jeans and leaned back in his chair. "Is that why you were going inside the Sterling Building?"
Nick raised his
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