All You Need, Page 23

  In the not-too-distant past you would’ve been right behind her, accepting the challenge.

  My head said, You are not considering this. My mouth said, “Okay, say I agree. What do you hope to learn about Igor by spying on him?”

  “If he ever finished our book club discussion about Anna Karenina.” She rolled her eyes. “I want to see if he’s back to hooking up. He told me last weekend when we were helping with the coat drive that he hasn’t been with anyone since the last time we were together.”

  I remembered that Dallas had said, I can’t stay away from you. “The last time? Were you with Igor more than once, D?”

  She threw up her hands. “Have you even been listening to me? Yes. I was with him more than once.”

  “How many times?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “You had sex with him twenty-seven times? You counted?”

  “No, I’ve met with him twenty-seven times. We’ve had sex more than that. So can you see why I think the Gypsy dick curse is real? I cannot stay away from him. So maybe if I see him with another woman, then that’ll break the curse.”

  I stared at her. Hard.

  “Please? I’ll never, ever ask you for another favor.”

  Yeah, I’d heard that one before. “Fine. But two things. First, you do not get to sneak off and have sex with Igor. This is a mission to gather intel only.”

  Dallas bumped me with her shoulder. “Listen to you, going all Jane Bond.”

  “Second, under no circumstances do we not leave together.”

  “Pinkie-swear, cuz. And I have one condition for you.” Her eyes searched mine. “You give Axl the benefit of the doubt.”

  “What?”

  “What does it say about the future of your relationship if you don’t trust Axl enough to let him hang out with his buddies even for one lousy night?”

  My stomach knotted. If Axl’s distance the last two days meant he’d reverted to his old ways, I needed to know before I got in any deeper with him. I liked him. A lot. I wasn’t supposed to like him. I was supposed to tolerate him until our mutual goals had been achieved.

  It’s gone way beyond that, hasn’t it? Almost from the beginning.

  “Annika?” she prompted.

  “It says it’s better to see with my own eyes than wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “Not always. Sometimes you’ve gotta have blind faith.” Dallas popped to her feet. “The arena is clear, so the traffic has probably died down. Let’s become the two-faced women.” She paused. “Wait. That didn’t sound right.”

  “Dallas, nothing about this idea sounds right.”

  “True. In for a penny, might as well be in for a million more.”

  After we reached the playhouse and started pawing through the costumes and wigs, I began to lose my nerve. This idea smacked of slightly psycho behavior.

  Disguising yourself so you can crash a party and spy on your not-really-a-boyfriend and helping your cousin try to break a Gypsy curse?

  Nope. Nothing wrong with that scenario at all.

  Sigh.

  Well, life was never boring with Dallas.

  I’d chosen a brunette wig with an abundance of curls that cascaded past my shoulders. The stage makeup I slathered on my face and neck was two full shades darker than what I usually wore. I darkened my eyebrows, and that changed the color of my eyes from blue to gray. I went heavier on the eyeliner, adding a cat’s-eye curl to the ends. I added a smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks. No blush—I didn’t want to draw attention to my cheekbones. I stuck a jewel on the side of my nose for a fake piercing and clipped two silver hoops in the outer corner of my left eyebrow.

  “Well?” I faced Dallas. “What do you think?”

  “Gypsy whore meets girl next door?” She tugged my sheer blouse down until my nipples nearly saluted the world. “You are completely unrecognizable.”

  “Lipstick?”

  “Nope. Nude lips. Too much color will emphasize your smile—which is killer BT-dubs—and we’re trying to avoid familiarity.” Dallas pointed at my feet. “No heels. Some type of shoe that doesn’t match, I think.”

  I gasped. “Do not even joke about that.”

  Dallas snickered. “Okay. Am I dry yet?”

  I leaned in to check out the “ink” on her right arm. The stickers looked so realistic, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t a real tattoo sleeve. “Five more minutes before you can slip on the sheer blouse. Let’s fix your wig.” Dallas wore a chin-length blond wig cut in an asymmetrical bob style. We’d gone the opposite direction for her, lightening the makeup on her face and neck two shades. She wore a nude-colored bustier, a tight denim microminiskirt and bubblegum pink pumps that matched her lipstick. “You look fantastic as a blonde.”

  “This is gonna be so much fun! I hope there are a lot of people so we can melt into the crowd.”

  “We went a little overboard for that. Intel gathering only, remember? In. Out. Gone.”

  I left my car parked at the playhouse and she drove to Snow Village.

  As soon as we pulled up and I saw it was a gated community with a guard, I thought we were screwed.

  But Dallas merely told me to hush and rolled down the window. She smiled and said, “Hey, Mr. Darrin. How are you tonight?”

  He crouched to window level. “Do I know you, sweet thing?”

  “No, sir,” she drawled. “My name’s Abilene, but you know my sister, Dallas. I’m here visiting her. You probably recognized her car.”

  “I did.” He squinted at Dallas. “But I’m sorry if I don’t see even a tiny resemblance between you and your sister. Abilene, huh? Your parents have a thing for Texas?”

  “You have no idea. My younger sister’s name is Killeen. And our brother? Austin.”

  Maybe Dallas did the TMI thing too.

  “Who’s your friend?”

  “Natasha. She’s from Romania. So I’m hoping that she and Igor can communicate, since she doesn’t speak English.”

  “If Igor isn’t interested in her, bring her back here. I got some ways to communicate with her that don’t need any words at all.”

  And . . . eww. But I wondered how many times someone had said something like that to Axl.

  Dallas laughed. “My sister warned me you were a terrible flirt. Anyway. The Hammer is throwing a party tonight in the community room of his building. Is that still going on or are we too late?”

  “It’s still going on. Building B. First floor. The double doors around back are where you enter. You might have to walk a ways. It’s a little jammed.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. Have a great evening, Mr. Darrin.”

  “You too. Tell that sister of yours hello.”

  Dallas didn’t start snickering until we’d turned the first corner.

  “Abilene? Seriously?”

  “I panicked, okay? I almost said Galveston because that’s the only town that popped into my head.”

  “You are impressive, though, D. Wow. Fast thinking on the fly.”

  “Igor lives here, so I’ve been here a few times. For once in my life sneaking around turned out to be beneficial.”

  “So my name’s Natasha. Am I the brooding type?”

  “Brooding, quiet and watchful type. Can I at least have one drink?” Dallas asked. “People get suspicious if you don’t drink.”

  “One drink. And you can carry the same bottle around all night as a prop, you know.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, right. Because that is not fun at all.” She parked along the road and took out her cell phone. “Selfie time.”

  I leaned closer and practiced brooding Natasha. When Dallas flipped the image around, I did a double take. The women on the screen did not look like us at all.

  “Sending that to you. And we’re leaving our phones in the car, right?”

  “Right. Come on, Abilene. Let’s break a Gypsy curse.”

  We walked for what seemed like a mile.

  “Man. There are a lot of people here.
How did he think he’d keep this a secret?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The entrance to the party room had two security guards manning the doors. “Ladies. No cell phones allowed. You’ll have to check them here or take them to your vehicle.”

  “I left mine in my car,” Dallas said. “And, darlin’, as you can plainly see”—she spun around—“ain’t no place to hide one in this outfit.”

  “I can see that.” The guy gave my outfit a once-over. “You hiding anything, sugar?”

  “Just my wild streak until I get inside.”

  He laughed. “Have fun.”

  The lights inside the party room weren’t overly bright. The music wasn’t blasting. But there were a ton of people. Men mostly.

  A serve-yourself bar had been set up on the end closest to the doors with bottles of basic booze and mixers. Tubs of ice jammed full of beer and soda. There were a few tables on the periphery, but most people stood in the throng in the middle of the room.

  A door opened behind the bar. A hockey player—Flitte?—and one of the bunnies I’d seen in the arena seats straightened their clothes as they exited the room. I counted five other doors like that one. All closed.

  I headed for the bar and fixed myself a screwdriver. Evidently Dallas had changed her mind and stuck with orange juice.

  We hadn’t made a plan, but she and I had attended enough parties that we knew how to work a room. Start at the outside of the circle and worm your way in. Meander. Never make it appear you’re searching for someone.

  So far that hadn’t been a problem.

  So far I hadn’t seen Axl.

  Do not imagine him in one of those rooms with an eager puck bunny.

  I did see Kaz with his arms around two chicks. Chick one had her hand hooked in the fly of his jeans as she idly caressed the bulge behind the zipper.

  “See anything worth losing your wig over yet?” Dallas said behind me.

  “No. You?”

  “No.” She paused. “Did you expect to see an orgy?”

  “I guess I didn’t rule it out after what Lucy told me.”

  “Speaking of that . . . you just believed everything she told you?”

  I kept my gaze moving through the crowd. “Yes. I’m embarrassed that I had the Lund blinders on as long as I did. I get mad at Jensen for his reputation. Why had I thought Jaxson would be any different? Especially when he’s the most self-involved of all of us?”

  “But I worry that you’re making absolutes about all athletes based on generalizations and hearsay.”

  I looked at her. Since when did she play devil’s advocate? “These absolutes are not based on hearsay. Axl admitted to his manwhore ways. So has Jensen. I promise I’ll ask Jax next time I see him.”

  “So you’re here to prove your theory that a leopard can’t change its spots?”

  No, I’m here because another member of my family needs my help. “No. We’re here to break the Gypsy dick curse, remember? Have you seen Igor?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Think he’s in one of the closed rooms?”

  “Well, hello, ladies.”

  We turned and faced a young guy, close to Dallas’s age. “Great party, isn’t it?” Dallas gushed.

  “Players know how to party.” He lifted his beer and drank. “I’m Cash. I’m part of the team.”

  I didn’t recognize him, but Dallas went with it. “Ooh, you’re a hockey player?”

  “Yep. Been on skates since I was three.”

  “Lord, I can’t even stand up on a pair. So what position do you play?”

  “Center.” That was when he admitted he was in the AHL.

  I tuned him out and did another sweep of the room. I saw Martin. No Verily, though.

  The married guys from the team were here—that was a surprise—and they were arm-wrestling. I snarkily wondered if they’d had to get permission to attend from the WAGs.

  Oh yeah? Don’t get smug. If that’s the case, then at least the WAGs knew about the party your boyfriend was throwing . . . the one you didn’t have a clue about.

  Trios of bunnies were making the rounds. Others had already found their marks.

  I took a couple of sideways steps to see better.

  One of the mysterious doors opened and Axl stepped out.

  My heart sank. I wanted to be wrong.

  He crossed over to where Martin stood.

  But I kept my eyes on the door to see who left after he did. I didn’t think I’d missed seeing anyone sneak out before him.

  I stared at that door so hard my eyes started to burn.

  Dallas bumped into me and said, “Oops. I’ll catch up with you later, Cash.” Then she tried to steer me away.

  “Stop it,” I hissed. “Axl just left a room, and I’m trying to see which puck bunny is coming out after him.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Move it, because Igor is headed this way.”

  Eighteen

  ___

  AXL

  I’d had one beer, so I knew it wasn’t too much alcohol making me see things.

  Annika, you little sneak.

  What in the hell are you doing here? Dressed like that?

  The harem girl outfit showcased her curves. The jewel in her belly ring played peekaboo beneath the flowing folds of her shirt, giving a glimpse of the generous swells of her breasts. I’d never fantasized about being a sheik, but if she had gifted me with a come-hither stare, I would’ve done anything to have her before me on her knees, those big blue eyes staring up at me. I’d grab a handful of her hair—

  “She looks like Romanian fantasy,” Boris said beside me as he caught sight of the object of my fixed stare. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes. She’s not what she appears to be, trust me.”

  “I will judge for myself. Introduce us.”

  “No. Stay away from her.”

  “You do not get to hoard all the women!”

  “Boris, dude, there are plenty of other women here. But that brunette is off-limits.”

  He stormed off.

  She still hadn’t noticed me yet. Her gaze kept sweeping the crowd, so I knew she was looking for me.

  Are you here because you missed me, Princess?