Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook by Robin Kaye Read Free Book Online Page B

considering this woman would stick out in Times Square on New Year’s Eve. She wore one of those loose tank dresses that looked too long to be a top, but too short to be a dress, though that was how she wore it. Not that he was complaining about the prodigious amount of gorgeous leg she displayed, and her high-heeled sandals made her legs look longer still. Bleached blond, choppy hair, cut short around her ears, tapered down her long, graceful neck. A hot pink streak sliced through her bangs, covering one eye. The other eye was a brilliant blue he’d seen only in the Mediterranean or on girls wearing colored contacts.
    “I’m Rocki O’Sullivan—the lead singer of Nite Watch, the house band.”
    “Storm Decker—the prodigal son, if you believe Bree here.”
    Rocki smiled and didn’t release his hand. “I usually like to reach my own conclusions when it comes to men. My taste and Bree’s differ considerably. I like them; she, for the most part, doesn’t.”
    “So her dislike of me is nothing personal then?”
    Rocki graced him with a sexy grin. “It’s too soon to tell. Bree didn’t so much as mention you—odd, considering she’s my BFF.”
    “Pardon?”
    “Best Friend Forever.”
    “Good to know.” He dropped Rocki’s hand and turned back to Bree, who glared at him. “I hardly recognizedthe place. Wow, Bree. You’ve worked miracles here. When Pop said that you’d classed up the joint, I had no idea what he’d meant. You’ve completely reinvented it. It’s amazing. It looks like you.”
    “Thanks.”
    If he wasn’t mistaken, she blushed. “I have some work to do upstairs but thought I should see if there’s anything I can do to help you here first. You never know when you’ll find yourself in need of an inflatable dartboard.”
    “No, I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” Bree turned her back to him and walked around the other side of the bar, pouring a soda.
    He leaned a hip against a barstool and checked out the wall of fame that Pete had made. Framed and matted copies of every article published about him and his brothers hung beside the bar. He’d had no idea Pop had followed their careers so closely. He’d always known Pop was proud of him and his brothers; he just never imagined he’d do something like this. He swallowed hard, returned his attention to Bree, and watched her work. When she looked up, her surprised gaze shot across the polished bar. What did she think—that he’d run off like a good little servant?
    “Thanks for stopping by, Storm. I’ll yell if I need you.”
    “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Francis DeBruscio says hello. He and Patrice may be coming in tonight.” He ignored Bree’s surprised look and turned to Rocki, who seemed to be keeping score. “It was nice meeting you, Rocki. I look forward to hearing the band.”
    “Don’t get your hopes up, Storm. What we lack in talent we make up for in volume.”
    “Thanks for the warning, and keep me up-to-date on any conclusions.” He shot her a wink and turned to leave.
    Bree drank the cold soda, wetting her suddenly dry mouth, and wished she could pull a vanishing act. She looked around the bar to see who’d witnessed the exchange. Nicki was tucked into the booth closest to the kitchen, hidden by the high back. Bree stepped to the far end of the bar to check on her. She was sketching something and seemed content with the new markers they’d picked up on the way home from the hospital. Dick, one of Pete’s old cronies, had a copy of the
Times
spread out beside his club sandwich and beer. Neither of them had seemed to notice. Unfortunately, the only one who did notice was the one person Bree wished hadn’t.
    Rocki was already warming up, the light of inquisition shining brightly in her eye. “The prodigal son? I thought you called Logan.”
    Bree blew out a breath, ruffling her own bangs. “I did. He sent Storm.”
    “Do you think if I called Logan for help sometime, he’d do the same for me? Lord