Gypsy Soul: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 3)

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  I’ve had to convince her of everything for weeks. Beg her to listen to me.

  And she still didn’t do it. Not even a little.

  Felicity thumbs across the screen, eyes glued to the email she’s sending. “But don’t think this means I will always be this agreeable.”

  I smile. “Good.”

  I must be a little bit of a glutton for punishment, because part of me gets off on the chase, and the thought of a completely docile woman doesn’t interest me in the least.

  I need a little challenge in my life.

  “I think I might still take this week off.” She slides her phone back into her purse and turns her attention to me. “Use it to get my stuff all packed up.”

  She is a hundred miles an hour. Ready to take one step after another now that she’s realized I’m not going anywhere.

  It still might not be fast enough for me.

  I’ve waited my whole fucking life to have what she can give me, and I don’t want to wait another second. “We can have you packed and moved in a day, Beanie.”

  “You think?”

  “I guarantee it.”

  Especially when I tell the rest of the boys I need help. It’ll be the fastest move in history.

  Which is perfect for me.

  When we finally pull into the garage at the old firehouse, Felicity is asleep in the seat beside me. We ended up staying at her Nanna’s longer than either of us expected and now it’s almost eleven. I know she’s ready for bed.

  And I’m ready to have her in my bed.

  When I shut off the car she jerks awake, sitting up straight in her seat, eyes sharp as they move around the large garage. Her gaze narrows on Cook’s truck. “Is Levi here?”

  It’s not the first time she’s called Cook by his name. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

  Because she still hasn’t called me by mine.

  “Levi stays here when I don’t.” I can’t help the way his name comes out and Felicity doesn’t miss it.

  She slowly turns toward me and one brow lifts. “Is there something you would like to talk about?”

  “No.”

  Felicity stares at me for a minute before blowing out a relieved-sounding breath. “I was hoping there would be something.” She opens her door and climbs out of the car. “I was starting to get worried.” She lifts the lever on her seat and grabs the bags tucked behind it.

  I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but I don’t like that she’s worried.

  I rush to help her pull the large bag free. “What were you worried about?”

  “I was starting to think you were literally perfect.” She looks up at me, shaking her head a little, eyes wide. “And thank God you’re not.”

  The assessment knocks me down a peg. I know I’m not fucking perfect.

  But I was kind of hoping she felt like I was.

  “Don’t look so offended.” She takes the bag from my hand and starts wheeling it toward the door leading from the garage. “It’s a good thing. If you were perfect I’d always feel undeserving.”

  “First of all you absolutely deserve everything.” I grab the rest of the bags and hurry after her. “Second—”

  I’m not sure how to finish that sentence without sounding exactly what she called me.

  Offended.

  A little miffed.

  “I’m not sure what I did just now.”

  Felicity parks her bag at the base of the stairs. “You were clearly upset about something, and when I asked if there was anything you wanted to discuss, you said no.”

  “And that makes me not perfect.”

  She smiles. “Yes.”

  “I’m not seeing how.”

  Felicity moves in, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You shut down instead of talking to me.” She leans in to press a kiss to my lips. “How would you feel if I didn’t want to talk to you about something that was upsetting me?”

  She’s still smiling. Felicity is unexplainably happy about my perceived failing as a partner. “Why are you happy right now?”

  “I already told you. Because you’re not perfect.” She pulls me closer, wrapping her hands in my hair as she holds me tight. “Perfect is intimidating.” Her smile slips. “And usually too good to be true.”

  “I’m definitely not too good to be true, Beanie. You’re not the only one who’s been told they were too much.”

  Smothering.

  It’s something I’ve heard a time or two. From women who didn’t understand my need to do for the people I care about. My desire to be close to them all the time.

  I know where it comes from. I know why it’s there and I don’t fight it.

  Because I knew someday there would be a woman who needed what I had.

  Felicity’s head tips back in surprise. “I don’t believe that for a second.” Her eyes narrow. “You’re fucking perfect.”

  “You just said I wasn’t.”

  Her eyes narrow a little more. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do. You should explain it to me.”

  Her head tilts to one side and she gives me a sweet smile. “How about we talk about why you got upset when I called Cook Levi.”

  For a minute neither of us says anything.

  Felicity caves first. “When I said you weren’t perfect I meant that you were human. That you made mistakes. That there is still room for you to grow with me.” She combs her fingers through my hair. “When I said you were perfect I mean you are the most amazing man I, and I would bet most women, have ever met. It is shocking that even a single one could find a reason to walk away from you.”

  “There’s been more than one, Beanie.”

  “Their loss is my gain I guess.” Felicity’s eyes move to mine. “Tell me what you want me to call you.”

  I want her to call me everything important. Her partner. Her protector. Her provider.

  Someday her husband.

  The father of her children.

  “I’ve always gone by Gypsy. The minute I could leave my brother’s name behind me I did.”

  “It’s your name too.” Felicity’s quiet. Calm. “I could argue it’s more yours than his at this point.”

  “I didn’t really think about it until I met you. I can’t imagine my kids telling their friends their dad’s name is Gypsy.”

  “You don’t think Pink’s husband calls her Pink?”

  She’s teasing me.

  I like it. It eases a difficult moment. One I’m not sure how I feel about.

  I am more Gypsy than I’ve ever been Cody. I always felt like Cody was meant for someone else. It was.

  “What if we try it out? See what you think?” Felicity runs her hands down the front of my chest. “But I’ll have to be a little quiet about it since Cook’s here.”

  I don’t miss that she calls Levi Cook this time. “It could be bad since Cook doesn’t know my name.” I push against her, moving her feet toward the stairs. “He’d come busting in the room, ready to take whoever the fuck Cody is down.”

  Felicity holds me tight as we move. “I would protect you.”

  I stop.

  Because she means it. I hear it in her voice. She might be being funny, but I don’t doubt for a second that it’s the truth.

  Which could be a problem.

  “Don’t ever get between me and anyone, Beanie.” I hold her face in my hands. I need her to see how serious I am. “Promise me.”

  Her lips press together.

  Maybe we came home too early.

  Unfortunately, I’m not sure it would matter how long I kept her away. Felicity isn’t the kind of woman to shy away from anything.

  No matter how dangerous it is.

  Hell, that might make her more likely to get involved.

  “Felicity.” I try being a little sharper with her.

  One dark brow lifts.

  Fuck.

  Now I don’t just have to worry about King coming after her.

  I have to worry about him coming
after me too.

  ****

  COOK’S IN THE kitchen when I go down in the morning. He’s at the stove making enough food to feed ten people. “Who else is here?”

  He glances over one shoulder at me as I pull the pot off the coffee maker. “You sayin’ you’re not starving after pulling an all-nighter?”

  “I was in bed.” I swallow down as much coffee as I can manage without scalding my mouth.

  “You sure as fuck weren’t sleeping.” He turns back to the eggs he’s stirring. “Cody.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m getting laid and you’re not.”

  “I could if I wanted to.” Cook moves between the various pans with practiced ease. “Twice a day if I tried.”

  He’s not wrong. There’s something about a man who can cook that women lose their panties over.

  “Then do it.”

  He shrugs. “Eh.”

  There comes a point in a man’s life when he realizes casual fucks aren’t giving him what he wants anymore.

  I think I’m looking at a man having that moment. “You got the bug?”

  “I don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talkin’ about.”

  He does. I’m not pointing it out again. Nothing worse than a man realizing he’s got to learn how to chase a different sort of high.

  And then try to keep it.

  I walk to stand beside him, leaning back against the counter as I give him the change in conversation I’m sure he will appreciate. “You mind if Felicity stays here?”

  “No. I’m moving my room though. Your bed fucking squeaks.”

  “I’ll try to keep shit down.” Don’t want to rub salt into the wound he’s nursing.

  “I won’t hold my breath.” Cook grabs the pan of eggs and takes it to the table. “I’m gonna eat real quick and then get going. You mind cleaning up?”

  “It’s the least I can do.” I carry in the bacon and biscuits. “I appreciate you cooking.”

  Cook grunts as he shovels in a pile of scrambled eggs.

  He’s gonna be fun to be around for a while.

  I sit down next to him. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

  He shakes his head. “No one even came near Felicity’s place.”

  It’s the perfect lead-in for what I want to discuss. “Don’t you think it’s weird that King hasn’t gone after Kerri or Shelly again?”

  Cook shrugs. “King’s scrambling right now. Trying to prove he can run The Horsemen. Probably looking for something easy, and those girls aren’t easy.”

  “Neither is Felicity.” I say it for myself. Reassurance.

  Cook snorts. “No shit.” He leans back in his seat. “You didn’t see her on that fuckin’ bike. The woman can ride.”

  “She raced motocross when she was young.”

  Cook doesn’t look as surprised as I expect him to be. “Sounds about right.” He stuffs a whole piece of bacon into his mouth. “Where’d she learn to hot-wire?”

  “She’s got three older brothers and a dad who all work on cars, so I would guess from her playpen.” I can imagine a little dark-haired girl with big blue eyes following her daddy around the garage, handing him tools with a sucker sticking out of her mouth.

  “It’s a shame you’re the one who went with Hawk that night to get Shelly.” Cook grins as he jabs at me.

  I’m not worried about it. He couldn’t handle her. She’d make him lose his freaking mind in about two seconds.

  Everything I love about her would be too much for him.

  “She wouldn’t have you.” I polish off my coffee and stand up.

  “I don’t blame her. I’m kind of a dick.” Cook stuffs two pieces of bacon into a biscuit before grabbing his empty plate and taking it to the sink. “Gonna take a patient woman to put up with my shit.”

  “I’m sure they exist somewhere.”

  “I don’t know where the fuck it is.” Cook pours the last of the coffee into a travel mug and snaps on the lid. “Maybe I just need to find a crazy girl and deal with it.” He scans the small mess left in the kitchen. Cook always cleans as he goes so all that’s left is the pans holding the food and his plate and fork. “You sure you got this?”

  Cook couldn’t handle a crazy girl. I can almost see him twitching at the thought of the dishes not getting done. He can’t handle anyone high strung. His head would explode.

  “I swear I will clean it up as soon as Felicity eats.”

  Cook nods and eyes the mess one last time. “Thanks.”

  I start another pot of coffee using the new pack of decaf I picked up when we stopped for food last night. I wait while it brews, adding some cream and a little sugar to the cup I pulled out for Felicity. When the coffee’s done I pour it into the mug and carry it upstairs where the key to everything I’ve never had is asleep in my bed.

  17

  “POOR GIRL. YOU have stuff everywhere don’t you?” Jill stands in the center of the main room at the firehouse, hands on hips, surveying the pile dominating the space.

  Cody meant it when he said it would be a fast move. Ten men showed up, ready to work, and all my crap was in the firehouse in time to order pizza for dinner.

  Of course it was all stacked up in boxes, but that is apparently just a technicality.

  Kerri snorts. “They are the best men I’ve ever met, but they’re still men.” She leans over one of the giant boxes. “Why do they all say miscellaneous?”

  “You can probably guess.” Shelly grabs the tucked flaps and pulls them open to reveal a mix of kitchen utensils, bath towels, and magazines. She frowns at it. “This is worse than I expected it to be.”

  “At least it’s all neatly packed.” Jill pulls out a few of my dishes from one of the other boxes. Each is wrapped in a cardboard sleeve with a sheet of bubble wrap between them. “Nothing’s broken.”

  She is right. The boys were all very careful with my things, just not very organized. If something fit in a box, that’s where it went.

  Kerri heaves out a sigh. “This is going to take all weekend.”

  “I’ve been working on it all week.” I point to where my sofa and loveseat sit with throw pillows and blankets in place. “I’ve already found most of my work clothes and shoes too.”

  The week with Cody has flown by. I probably should have spent more time unpacking, but you know.

  He’s hot.

  “Are you going back Monday?” Shelly pulls out an armful of my kitchen stuff and heads into the partially-finished space.

  “I am. I have a few meetings this week that I should be there for in person.” I grab a few more kitchen items and go in to put them away.

  Shelly’s pulling out drawers. “They’re all full.”

  I peek into one as she opens it. “Cook’s already stocked the place.” I look down at the pile of duplicate items from my apartment. “Maybe we should just box my stuff up and put it in storage until Gypsy and I move out.”

  Shelly nods. “Yeah. I don’t think we’re going to fit anything else in here.”

  I pick everything I brought in back up. “Plus all Cook’s stuff is way nicer than mine.”

  “It should be.” Shelly grabs the rest and we go to repack it in one of the boxes I emptied earlier in the week. “If a chef doesn’t have nice kitchen stuff there’s something wrong.”

  “Then he’d be extra crabby.” I empty my arms and help Shelly with the rest.

  “He’s just lonely.” Jill transfers more kitchen items into the box we’re filling. “Wants a nice girl to keep him company.”

  “Then he’s going to have to stop being an ass.” Cook has worn a perpetual frown since I moved in here. At first I thought it was me.

  So I asked him.

  He’s been extra nice to me since then.

  Still frowning though.

  “Ass or not, he’s still hot.” Shelly closes the flaps on the box and marks out the word miscellaneous and writes kitchen. “And hot will go a long way.”

  “Not with a nice girl it won’t.�
�� Jill sighs, shaking her head. “Hot fooled me once.”

  We all stop and stare at her.

  “King was hot?” I’ve only seen pictures of the guy. Mostly so I would know to turn the other way if I saw him.

  He looks old as hell. Sun-aged skin with white hair and crazy eyes.

  Certainly not a man worthy of Kerri’s still-youthful-looking mother. Jill is gorgeous. Long blonde hair. Slight frame. A pretty smile that lights up a room, with a dimple in each cheek that makes her look younger than her fifty years.

  “I thought so.” Jill tips her head to one side. “Made me overlook a bunch of things I shouldn’t have.”

  “You were young.” Kerri wraps one arm around her mother.

  “I guess so.” Jill gives Kerri a soft smile and pats her daughter’s hand where it rests on her shoulder. “And I got you, so it was worth all of it.”

  “I’m not sure I would agree with that.” Kerri adds her other arm to the first, giving Jill a side hug and resting her head on her mother’s shoulder.

  I don’t remember my mother at all. My Nanna was a wonderful stand-in, but she was still just that.

  A stand-in.

  The need to know what the real thing is like has always been an almost unquenchable thirst. One I knew I would only experience from the other end of the relationship. It always made me a little sad.

  Until just now.

  Seeing how Kerri supports her mom. Protects her.

  It makes me realize that both sides really are the same.

  Jill claps a few times. “Enough of that.” She looks pointedly around the firehouse. “We have a lot to do so poor Felicity can have room to move in this place.”

  It’s more than a slight exaggeration. The firehouse is nearly five thousand square feet. Most of them are bedrooms but still.

  There’s more than enough room that I could leave everything exactly how it is and I would be fine indefinitely. But I know it’s driving Cook out of his ever-loving mind. The guy is a neat freak and I want to be respectful because he was here first.

  And I appreciate him making me breakfast every day.

  “What were the boys meeting about today?” Kerri glances my way.

  So does Shelly.

  “Uhh.” I look back and forth between them.