She didn’t pull away, and damn, that felt good. She did, however, ask, “What are you doing?”
“Keeping you warm,” I replied, and then steered her into the first restaurant we came across.
It wasn’t until we’d started on our three-bean soup and meatball subs that she asked, “Why did you call me Bunny?”
I only smiled.
I had smiled four times by the time we finished eating.
By the time we finished eating, Tito had smiled five times. The last was only half a grin, but I’d take it. He had a beautiful face, and when he was happy, his eyes crinkled at the corners. The warm, olive shade of his skin seemed even darker in contrast to his white teeth. And his eyes…dear Lord, his eyes, they burned, glowing like molten glass still being shaped over the fire.
The conversation stayed casual, neither of us breaching our unspoken personal boundaries. When I stole a glance outside, the sky had darkened, and minuscule drops of water dotted the sidewalk.
“It’s raining,” I said, crinkling my napkin between my fingers. “I should head home.”
“No. Not yet.” He swallowed his last sip of coffee. “Something I wanna show you. It isn’t far.”
I glanced at the large, farm-themed clock hanging over the counter. If I stayed with Tito, I’d miss the last bus. Meaning I’d have one long, miserable walk home, meaning I for sure would freeze, and undoubtedly ruin my dress. On the other hand, I could call a cab. Did people do that anymore? Or was Uber the better option? I had no idea. Also, I had no cell, so Uber was probably a no-go, anyway.
“Okay.” I pushed from my seat. “But I’ll miss the last bus home. I don’t have a cell. Could you call me a cab when we’re finished?”
Tito stared at me. Blinked. Opened his mouth to speak. Changed his mind. He thumbed through the wad of cash he held, then mumbled, “You don’t have a phone?”
“I do. Or, did.”
His shoulders bunched. “Let me guess. You left it in Rockypoint?”
My brother had smashed my cell in a fit of alcohol-induced rage, but I wasn’t ready to discuss my brother with anyone. “Yes. I’ll get one soon. Saving up for it.”
“Almost there?” he asked, dropping money on the table.
I laughed. “Yeah. Almost there.”
His hand landed on my lower back while he guided me outside. “So, you’re saving for a car and a phone. Anything else?”
Pretty much everything a girl needed to live on her own. “That’s about it.”
We made it halfway down the block when Tito stopped. “You’re limping.”
My attempt at ignoring the pain and hiding my misery had failed. “Blister. New shoes.”
“Fuck.” His eyes sliced to mine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
A lie formed on the back of my tongue. Before the fabrication left my lips, he turned his back to me and said, “Hop on.”
“What?”
He squatted. “I’ll carry you…it’s only a block. Hop on.”
“A piggyback?”
“Yeah. Get on.” He wiggled his fingers behind his butt.
Oh, Lord. Well, options were limited. Die of embarrassment or suffer for vanity. I’d never had a high threshold for pain, so I hopped up, wrapped my arms around his thick neck, squeezed my thighs around his trim waist, and prayed my skirt was covering my backside. Like I weighed nothing more than a rag doll, he tucked his arms under my legs and scooted me higher.
“We good?” he asked.
“All good.” I laughed into the thick, black cotton covering his head.
Two blocks later, we reached our destination—a tall building with a security entrance. Tito crouched. I slid to my feet.
“What is this place?” I asked, slipping out of my heels while admiring the mammoth steel and glass construction, but mostly admiring his strong fingers while they punched a sequence of numbers on the keypad.
The door eased open and he stepped aside, allowing me entrance first.
“You’ll see.” Once again, his hand rested at the small of my back, a small gesture that made me feel larger than life. He guided me toward a set of elevators, typed numbers into another keypad, and pressed the large “P.”
The elevator doors opened into a foyer, empty except for two large planters filled with lush green foliage. A steel-plated door opened into a grand, open, airy, living space. We entered a state-of-the-art kitchen with stainless steel appliances and black granite everything else. A wall-to-wall window with a slider door opened onto an enormous deck that seemed to stretch over Lake Willow.
“Whose home is this?” I asked, taking in the barren, pristine surroundings.
Tito leaned his shoulder against the polished cement column that separated the kitchen space from the living area. “It could be mine. All I gotta do is sign on the dotted line.”
“Yeah, right.” I laughed. “This is the penthouse. It has to cost well over a mil.”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he mumbled, “Closer to two. Your point?”
“Guess I don’t have one. It’s just…I don’t even know what you do for a living.” I gestured to the gorgeous staircase, floating white steps with a polished steel banister. “And you’re showing me a ridiculously lavish home, with a view of…well…everything, and I guess I’m just surprised. Why did you bring me here? I don’t understand.”
The brooding man shrugged away from the column and walked to the window, pressing his forehead to the glass. “I guess I wanted to see it through someone else’s eyes before I made my decision.”
“Through mine?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
My guts floated, gravity be damned. “Why?”
He turned to face me. Voice thick with irritation, he said, “Because you’ll be honest with me.”
“Fair enough.” He’d offered a soapbox, laid it at my feet. I’d make the most of the opportunity. “You really want my opinion?”
“More than anything.”
I nodded. Choked down my trepidation. “Okay. Well. Nice homes are great. Really. I have nothing against them. I get the whole buying in a nice neighborhood and all that, you know, for safety and security reasons and whatnot, but this? This is over the top. This is gloating. This feels a lot like you’re telling the world, ‘Look at me, I’m richer than you.’”
“Showing off?” He leaned back against the window, arms crossed, glare focused and challenging.
My throat dried, all the menacing, broody vibes heating the air. “Yes. Exactly. Showing off.”
A huff. “Maybe it’s nothing more than an investment.”
I was losing steam. “Maybe.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t love waking up to this view every morning.”
With him? I’d give my left arm for that opportunity. “Sure. I’d feel like a princess. But honestly, I’d be happy to wake up in a soft bed. I’d be content with reliable warm water for my showers. A working toilet.”
The mood changed in a heartbeat, his inquisitive glare morphing into something more akin to concern. “You don’t have those things?”
“What? No. Of course I do.” I waved my hand frantically in front of my face as if that would erase my almost-slip. “It’s just…I mean…There are so many people who don’t have those things, and to them, this place would be, well? A slap in the face. With the money it cost to buy these digs, you could probably buy ten struggling homeless mothers their own place. I guess my point is, if you can afford to buy a place like this, you have too much money.”
“I work damn hard for my money. Bleed for it.”
And he was back to brooding.
I wanted off my soapbox.
“I’m sure you do, but you can’t take it with you when you die, so you could use it to change a life, or maybe even save a life.”
Was that a smirk or a sneer? I couldn’t tell.
“This how all churchy people talk?” he asked, pushing away from the window and prowling around me like a panther
ready to pounce.
Self-preservation kicked in, and I took slow steps, putting distance between us. “I’m going to ignore that question.”
I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Do you like the penthouse or not?”
“It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen.”
The penthouse wasn’t the most beautiful home I’d ever visited. Swear to my maker, though, with Tuuli standing in front of the window against the backdrop of the lake and mountains, in her spring-colored dress with that nervous smile and adorable bare feet, the lakeside home became the most welcoming real estate I’d ever occupied.
Over the years, I’d laid my head in many different varieties of square footage, ranging from ramshackle to ridiculous. Not once had I ached to share my space with another human being. Never had a woman looked more at home than the petite, blonde angel blinking her ridiculous wide eyes at me. Sweet, innocent, fucking timid little bunny. I wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and stroke every inch of her pure porcelain skin.
Like a beast stalking his prey, I inched forward, drawing closer, careful not to scare her off. As we stood toe to toe and her pert little nose twitched and the heel of her left foot bounced incessantly, I drew my cell from my pocket and dialed my uncle’s number. While I waited for him to answer, I raised my gaze from her delectable body to her lips, then up, hoping she would meet my gaze, yet terrified of what she might see. After a gnaw on her bottom lip and a nervous bounce, she finally looked me in the eye.
I winked. “Will you help me decorate?”
She laughed through her nose. Dropped her gaze to her feet, where she scratched her left foot with the bottom of her right. “I…um…I don’t know anything about decorating.”
Fuck me, but those pink toenails were hot as hell.
Carlos answered. “Tito, boy. Nice to hear from you.”
“Hey, Uncle Carlos. I’ve decided to buy.” I brushed a stray hair off her cheek.
Tuuli’s eyes narrowed. She took a step back and too far away, leaving my hand hanging in the air.
“Great, kiddo. Come by tomorrow. We’ll get the ball rolling.”
“See ya tomorrow.” I ended the call.
In a voice frail and full of disappointment, she said, “So, you’re a showoff, then.”
Knife to the chest.
She didn’t know me. Perhaps the time had come to offer a small piece of my reality. “That’s not entirely true.”
I hated that she wouldn’t look at me. “Come here. Maybe this will help you understand.” I grabbed her hand and led her up the staircase, through the upstairs hall, and to the third story master suite. The room may as well have been sitting on a cloud. Wall-to-wall windows. Three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of Whisper Springs. Open. Bright. Breathtaking. Even the master bath boasted a million-dollar view.
Tuuli remained silent, taking in her surroundings. She pushed open the slider door to the deck and gasped when she stepped outside to the private oasis with the outdoor shower and swimming jacuzzi.
“I’ve spent too damn many years underground. Or in windowless rooms, in front of computer screens, dealing with dangerous people and their vile shit. Don’t get me wrong. I love working. I’m the best at what I do. But my job can be suffocating.”
I shoved the hood off my head and tapped at the scar on my face. “This? This right here. The day it happened? Thought it was going to be my last day on Earth. Thought I’d take my last breath in a musty basement surrounded by the darkest people you’d ever want to meet.”
I looked away, avoiding the pity on her face.
“My uncle offered me this place, knowing what I’ve lived, knowing what I need.”
“And what is it you need?”
“Air.” A thousand pounds of pressure left my body with the simple confession. “To me, this place is air, it’s oxygen, and light, and freedom. Do I need twenty-thousand square feet? No. You’re right. Nobody does. But I need to breathe, Bunny. I need to fuckin’ breathe.”
Her gaze dropped again to my feet, her head bowed.
“Look at me.”
She did, stepping closer in the process. So close, I could smell the rain on her hair. Lifting a small finger to my face, she traced the outline of my scar, those blue beauties studying every inch of my mug.
Her lips parted on a sigh, her shoulders relaxed, and her gaze rested on my mouth. She wanted my lips. Fuck if I didn’t want to devour hers.
I couldn’t resist a second longer. I slid a hand around her neck, tangling my fingers through the silky mess, and I pulled her close, ducking to meet her halfway. I kissed her soft and slow, tender, and with no intentions, no underlying goal other than tasting and feeling and being closer to a soul that called to mine.
Tuuli was soft and pliant and so damn small in my arms. Petite and modest. The complete opposite of every woman I’d ever touched. White and pure. Tuuli was perfect. So goddamn perfect my chest hurt.
I would muddy the beauty in my arms. I would ruin her; there was no doubt. A noble man would’ve sent her on her way. A worthy man would never have lured the innocent to his den. I was no more noble than I was worthy of her kiss.
I didn’t want to break her. I didn’t want to stain her with my sins, so I broke the kiss before our kiss became more.
I was not, however, ready to let her go.
I pulled her close and held her small frame against my deadly planes. “When is your next day off?” I mumbled into her hair.
“Tuesday,” she answered into my shirt.
Two days. Fuck. Could I wait two days? ”Do you have plans?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“It’s a date,” was her simple reply. No, Where are we going? What should I wear? No batting her lashes, sexual innuendos, or lovelorn expectations. Just blind trust, bright eyes, and a chest-piercing smile.
I called a cab. After paying the driver, and seeing them off, I lifted my face to the crying sky. Cool pellets of rain batted my cheeks and rolled down my neck, soothing the burn below the surface of my skin.
Then I ran, pushing through the dreary afternoon until I was nothing but movement and sweat and breathing. Until my mind numbed, the screams dimmed, and images of an innocent, blue-eyed beauty were all that haunted me.
“HOW YA DOIN’ TODAY, Toodaloo?” Charlie asked, eyes red and moist from the sting of freshly chopped onions.
“You know how they say you are what you eat?” I poured myself a glass of orange juice. Not the breakfast I needed, but I was grateful nonetheless.
“Mmhmm,” Charlie mumbled, his knife moving in a blur against the wood board.
“Well, today, I’m Cheez Whiz,” I deadpanned. “That’s how I’m doing.”
Electricity had been a no-go since I’d moved into my brother’s home. My supply of nonperishables had dwindled since Tito started driving me home, leaving me two options for last night’s dinner: canned cheese and crackers, or a can of tuna. Tuna would’ve been the healthy option, but the can opener had rusted through and snapped in half three days ago.
Charlie laughed. “So, you’re a gooey mess, but morbidly delicious.”
“Sounds about right.” I gulped my O.J.
“Oh, hey,” he said, pointing his knife my way. “There were a couple of calls for you this morning.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
Weird. “You sure about that?”
“Don’t know anyone else named Tuuli.”
Not good. Definitely not good. “Did they leave a message?”
“No.” Charlie swiped a knuckle under his eyes. “The guy was a gentleman, though.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” I pulled my apron strings tight before tying the knot and scooted past the giant, wondering who my mystery caller might’ve been. I wasn’t left to ponder long because when I entered the dining room, Erik stood at the counter in a light gray suit that looked hand-tailored, and shoes that were too pointy. His platinum hair
was slicked back and set hard into perfection. Try as he might, no amount of designer clothing or beauty products for men would mask the trailer trash bully I knew him to be.
“What do you want?” I forced my gaze upward, then higher still, into his stone-cold eyes. Held my ground for a good ten seconds before wimping out and busying myself with the menus.
“That’s no way to greet an Elder, Tuuli.”
My insides vibrated. “You are not my Elder. I no longer belong to your church.”
He merely flashed his over-bleached set of porcelains and said, “That’s a good one, little girl.” Laughing, he pulled at the knot on his tie. “You and me, we are the church. We are the future, or have you forgotten?”
“How could I forget? You seared it into my skin and brain for years.” I winced at my outburst, bracing for a strike that didn’t come. Eyes to the ground, I whispered, “My brother said—”
Long fingers clamped around my arm, silencing me with the threat of pain. Erik tilted his head but didn’t dare lower himself to my level. “I know all about the deal you made with your brother. Had a nice chat with him yesterday. Straightened a few things out.”
“Yeah?” I yanked my arm free, praying he wouldn’t turn violent in public. “Straightened what out, exactly?” I hadn’t seen or heard from my older sibling in months. I didn’t dare let Erik know I was out of the loop.
“He told me why you’re working in this shit hole. Told me about his promise to free you from your duty. Problem with that arrangement, Tuuli, is that you were never his to set free.”
I knew where the discussion was headed. My opinion, my voice, no matter how loud, would make no difference. Regardless, I opened my mouth to speak.
Erik silenced me with a hard glare. “Hold your tongue, girl. You’ve forgotten your place. I’m done with the games. Get your things; you’re coming home with me.”
“No,” I snapped, taking a step back, surprising myself.
The cowbell rattled, drawing Erik’s attention to the door. Fearing his retribution, I took the opportunity to put more space between us and stepped behind the counter.
Truck Stop Tempest Page 5