Anthony: Signature Sweethearts Book Seven

by Rae, Kelsie

  Yup. He’s still there.

  Not gonna lie, I had pegged Anthony for a grandma driver, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. As soon as he got the hang of handling Blizzard, he’s been giving me a run for my money, and I’ve loved every minute of it. We’ve spent the last couple of hours playing in the powder, riding through the trails, and getting our machines stuck a few times too. Seeing Anthony lift a giant-ass snowmobile to get it out of a sticky situation or two? It was sexy as hell, but I won’t be admitting that to him. Even if the image of his muscles straining and his brow collecting sweat is ingrained into my memory for the rest of my miserable, single life.

  Once I reach the top of the peak, I park the snowmobile and stare out at the incredible view below. Following my lead, Anthony cuts the ignition then stretches his arms over his head while gazing in awe.

  “This place is amazing, Sway,” he murmurs while catching his breath. The sound nearly gets lost in the wind, but I hear it anyway.

  “It is,” I agree, peeking over at him.

  Feeling my gaze, he glances back and gives me a soft smile. The peace written across his face is something I haven’t seen from him. Ever. I guess that’s not saying much since we haven’t known each other for very long, but some sixth sense knows that the feeling written across his face has been absent from him for much longer than that.

  When my stomach tightens in my gut, and my heart starts pounding double-time, I search for the willpower to look away. To not give myself an inch where Anthony Wright is concerned because I can tell he’s a relationship kind of guy. Hell, he even admitted he wanted the white picket fence kind of life during one of our earlier conversations. And the fact is, that kind of life isn’t something I can give him even if he does seem to spark something inside of me that’s been dormant since high school.

  Releasing a reserved sigh, I look back down over the valley and take in the gorgeous pine trees and rays of sun peeking through the branches as it chases the horizon.

  “We should probably head back,” I murmur, closing my eyes and letting the last bits of warmth brush against my cheeks.

  His reply is just as quiet. “Yeah,” he breathes.

  I give him another quick glance then sit down on Storm when I hear Anthony’s stomach grumble from a few feet away.

  Laughing, I add, “It’s a good thing we’re staying for dinner. From the sound of your stomach, I’d say it’s minutes away from eating itself.”

  After a dramatic pat to his abs, he asks with a cautious voice, “Are you sure your parents are okay with us joining?”

  “Yup. My sisters’ cars are down there too, so it’ll definitely be an entertaining evening. You’ve been warned.”

  “Should I be worried?”

  With a smirk, I look him up and down. “Probably.”

  * * *

  “We’re home!” I shout out as soon as I open the door from the garage. Again, Anthony is trailing behind, and I find it endearing. He’s treading lightly and acting a little nervous, but overall, I think he’s in observation mode. It’s as if he’s a spectator at a museum who’s looking for clues about what he can expect to witness at my family’s dinner table. But I already know the answer. For the next thirty minutes, we’ll be sucking down soup and reassuring everyone that we’re not dating, not sleeping together, not anything.

  “Yo, Sway! Get in here!” Saylor calls, or maybe it’s Skye. They sound similar when their mouths are full, and since both of their cars were parked out front, it could be either one of them.

  I offer Anthony a quick smile, and my hand twitches at my side aching to lace our fingers and tug him along, but I restrain myself. Not because I’m against hand-holding mind you, but because I know it would mean something to him, and I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. Because that kind of a relationship isn’t going to happen between us. Ever. Even if it feels like it would be so easy with him.

  Instead, I murmur, “Come on. Let’s get some grub.”

  He doesn’t bother to answer me but follows a couple of feet behind as I step into the dining area.

  “Hey, Swayze Girl!” my dad greets me. “Did you guys have fun?”

  “The best!” I gush before remembering my manners. “So, this is Anthony. Anthony, this is everyone.” Waving my hand around the table, I look over at Anthony to see him smiling guardedly.

  He lifts his chin. “Hey.”

  Saylor rolls her eyes and stands from the table, offering her hand to him. “I’m Saylor, Sway’s older sister. We haven’t officially met.”

  He opens his mouth to return the greeting when Skye pipes up. “And I’m Skye…the fun one of the bunch. Nice to meet ya.” She reminds me of a puppy begging for attention, and I have to stop myself from smacking her on the side of the head.

  Shifting his gaze from Skye to me, Anthony’s mouth quirks in the corner for a split second before he turns his attention back to her. “That’s quite the feat, Skye, ‘cause Sway’s been pretty damn entertaining.”

  “Speaking of entertaining,” Saylor interrupts, graciously getting Anthony out of the hot seat. “Apparently, Joe and Cheryl Cavanaugh have been fighting recently.”

  Skye’s head whips to Saylor. “And how would you know that? They’re practically the face of relationship goals in this town.”

  “Because Benji’s in my class and gave a five minute play-by-play of last night’s debacle concerning who left the toilet seat up.” She leans forward and covers her mouth before whispering, “Hint. The culprit was five years old and happened to be the one telling the story.”

  Laughing, I bend down and plant a kiss against my dad’s weathered cheek then take a seat next to him. Anthony follows suit and sits on my other side.

  “Hi, Anthony. I’m Marney, Sway’s mom. Did you guys have fun on Storm and Blizzard?”

  His mouth showcases his amusement when the ridiculous names slip past her lips. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Swenson. And yes, we had a great time. Sway is a maniac on those things.”

  With a shake of her head, my amused mama purses her lips before admitting, “She’s given me more heart attacks than you can imagine, Anthony. The girl’s got a death wish, but she’s living her life to the fullest, so I guess I can’t really fault her for it. As long as she’s responsible and considers the repercussions, then I guess that’s all any of us can really hope for, right? And please, call me Marney.”

  I feel his knee brush against my own beneath the table for a split second before he pulls away, and I catch myself missing the innocent touch. Though, I’m not really sure why. Anthony and I have a very platonic relationship. We’ve never even shaken hands, for Pete’s sake. And yet, I find myself sitting up straight in my chair, my entire body thrumming with anticipation as my senses fire on all cylinders, aware of every minor twitch from a few inches away.

  “You’re a hundred percent correct, Marney. Part of me feels like I’ve been sleeping my life away then Sway came over and woke me up with a bucket of water. Helping her at her place has been educational, to say the least.”

  “I’m just glad you’re the one cleaning the kitty litter lately and not me,” Saylor pipes in before taking a bite of her dinner roll.

  Speaking of which…. My stomach grumbles.

  “Anthony, help yourself.” I motion to the big pot of soup sitting in the center of the table then reach for a roll.

  Hesitantly, he grabs the ladle and pours himself a bowl before looking over at me and asking, “Do you want me to dish it up for you?”

  “Sure.” I lift mine up, and he pours a generous portion into my dish, as well.

  Smiling shyly––I have no idea why I’m feeling shy––I mumble, “Thanks.”

  The room goes weirdly quiet and adds to the tension from Anthony’s and my interaction. Chancing a glance around the table, I see everyone’s eyes on me.

  “What?” I ask no one in particular.

  Skye quirks her brow while Saylor gives me a knowing look before my dad clears his throat and changes the
subject. “So, Swayze Girl, tell me about the current cats, and how I need to add another one to the house. Anthony, has she convinced you to re-home any of them yet?”

  Anthony chuckles through a spoonful of soup before answering him. “Actually, no. She hasn’t even hinted at it.” Turning to me he adds, “Should I be offended?”

  I snort. “Probably.”

  “Hey! I’d be a good owner!”

  “He can own me anytime,” Skye mutters under her breath. Saylor shoves her in the shoulder while my mom’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. My cheeks heat as I say a silent prayer that he didn’t hear her.

  Please, please, please.

  There’s an awkward pause in the room that leaves me grappling to fill it as all eyes shift to me. “I’m sure you’d be a great…owner.” I grimace as the word fumbles out of me, sounding weird, and…not right…since it’s followed by images of him owning me in all sorts of toe-curling ways that would make any girl blush.

  With a booming laugh, he tosses a wink at Skye then addresses me. “I was actually thinking of getting a buddy for my apartment, but I’m trying to work out the logistics. I’ll let you know if I decide to take the plunge, though.”

  “Really? Which one?”

  Stupid question. I already know the answer, but part of me wants to hear him say it.

  “Jasper. I think he and I could get along pretty damn well.”

  Nailed it.

  “Yeah,” I agree with a shy smile. “I think you two are a couple of peas in a pod.”

  “That we are, my friend. That we are.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Anthony

  The drive home is quiet. After dinner at her parents’, Sway drove us back to her place, and now I find myself driving back to my tiny apartment that makes the one I shared with Indie look like the Taj Mahal. I don’t bother to turn on my radio, letting the silence seep into my bones and ground me. My mind feels like it was just tossed into a blender of chaotic emotions, and now it’s been pulled out and set back in my skull before I was pushed out the door to be on my way.

  Seeing Sway on the snowmobiles, and after that, in her element at home, was something else. I’ve always thought she was attractive. You’d be blind not to. But after seeing her like that? With the wind in her pink hair, the stars in her eyes, and her plump lips sporting a small smile the entire afternoon? It was something else. Her smile is what really got to me. It makes her look like she knows a secret only she’s privy to, and no matter how hard you try, she won’t spill it to anyone. But as I look back on our day, I can’t help but want to pull the secret from her. To be the guy she talks to. The one she relies on. And the thought is scary as shit. I’ve never cared about anyone’s secrets. I’ve never really cared about their thoughts, or what their plans are after we separate. I’ve never cared about anything or anyone but myself.

  I guess it just goes to show that I really was a shitty boyfriend, and that Indie deserved so much better than me.

  And she got it.

  I shake off my self-deprecation and shove my car into park before stepping out into the bitter cold and heading into my lonely apartment.

  I wasn’t kidding when I said I was considering opening up my home to Jasper. Seems like he was dealt a shit hand and deserves more in this life. Or maybe he was like me and squandered a pretty decent hand by focusing on the wrong shit, and therefore, let everything slip through his fingers. Or paws. Regardless, I think he might deserve a second chance, and I’d be a selfish dick not to give it to him.

  Rubbing my lower back, I head for the shower to ease my sore muscles and turn the faucet on full blast, making sure the temperature of the water is scalding hot.

  When I deem it worthy, I strip down and jump inside. The water rolls down in rivulets as I rest my arm against the cool tile wall and look toward the drain. My mind struggles to let go of the day’s events, but I force them to slough off along with the dirt and grime because I can’t handle the hope they spark. Hope isn’t meant for a guy like me. Not when I spent thirteen years in a relationship I thought I was cultivating. Now? Now, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m definitely not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.

  By the time my skin is bright red, I turn off the water and wrap myself in a towel before heading to my bed and flipping off the light on my nightstand.

  I need some freaking sleep.

  * * *

  A few hours later, I wake up to the ringing of my cell phone. Rubbing my eyes, I take a look at the clock resting on my nightstand and groan before bringing the phone to my ear and answering it without bothering to see who’s calling.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Anthony? Are you there?”

  I sit up in bed and pinch the bridge of my nose while trying to register the voice. “Sway?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Look, I know it’s late, and that you were sleeping but––”

  I cut her off, sensing the desperation in her voice. “What’s wrong, Sway?”

  “It’s just,” she pauses, and it only amplifies the severity of the situation. “Umm…some kittens were found on the side of the road this morning, and they brought them to me, but––”

  “But what, Sway?”

  “They don’t look so good, and I could really use an extra pair of hands. Normally, I’d call one of my sisters, but Saylor is teaching tomorrow, and Skye––”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Are you sure?” Her voice is quiet. Unsure. And it does weird things to my chest.

  Shaking it off, I mutter, “Yeah. Be there in twenty.”

  Without waiting for her response, I click the end button and jump out of bed in search of some clothes, a coat, and my keys. Seems I have some kittens to save.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sway

  “Thanks for coming. I know it’s late…or early,” I correct myself. “But I really appreciate it.”

  “I’m glad I can help,” Anthony returns as he slides off his jacket in the entryway of my home. His hair is mussed from sleep, and he has bags under his eyes, but there’s a fire in him that I can’t help but appreciate. It’s insanely attractive, and a big fat turn on.

  When he turns around to hang up his coat, I see the tag on the back of his shirt flipping up, and the sight makes me grin, confirming my suspicion that he rushed out of his apartment while still half asleep.

  Turning back around, he gives me an anxious smile. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m sorry I freaked you out with the phone call.”

  “You didn’t freak me out.”

  “I call bullshit.”

  With his forehead wrinkled, he asks, “And why’s that?”

  Sucking my lips into my mouth to keep from smiling any harder, I answer, “Because your shirt is on inside out, and I can only assume it’s because you were in a hurry to get here.”

  He looks down at his shirt and grimaces when he sees the stitching on the outside instead of the inside like it’s intended to be.

  Peeking up at me, he shrugs and mutters, “Oops.”

  Before I can stop him, he grabs the hem of his shirt and tugs it over his head before flipping it right side out. My mouth goes dry as I watch his muscles bunch and flex with the action.

  Holy shit, Batman!

  My hands fist at my sides to stop myself from reaching out and running my hands along the expanse of exposed skin on perfect display.

  Yes, please.

  Unfortunately, the view disappears seconds later, and I frown as he slides the material back over his head.

  He quirks his brow when he finds me staring. And possibly drooling.

  “Umm…what did you say you did for a living before coming here?” I ask in a daze. I mean, I knew he was strong and in good shape, but that? That V? Those abs? Those…everything? Yeah, I had no idea who I was dealing with.

  With a laugh, Anthony shrugs. “I used to be a pretty self-disciplined guy. Work and the gym, with a side of a shitty r
elationship that lasted a hell of a lot longer than its shelf life. That pretty much summed up my life before everything fell apart. Now, I’m living off Twinkies and coffee.”

  “Well, apparently I need to start a new diet, because––” I catch myself from telling him he looks good enough to eat and clear my throat. “Anyway, about why I called you….”

  “Yeah, about that. How can I help?”

  Turning toward the exam room, I wait for Anthony to follow before I start explaining, “I’ve gotten them stabilized, so we’re doing okay, but I could really use your help. There were four kittens that were brought into the shelter this morning. They can’t be more than a week old and were found freezing on the side of the road. Shannon looked them over and knew they were going to need some extra help, so she called me. I picked them up and brought them here, assuming I could handle them, but they’re really touch and go. When one of them didn’t make it, I knew I needed a second pair of hands, which is when I called you. I really am sorry for being a pain, but––”

  He stops me with a gentle touch to my back as we reach the exam room. “Just tell me what you need me to do. I’m here.”

  Peeking up at him, I ignore the way my chest tightens at his innocent touch combined with the selfless look in his eyes. I feel like if anyone else was woken in the middle of the night to help a bunch of abandoned kittens by a crazy cat lady, they would tell me to take a chill pill, followed by giving me a long-winded lecture about the circle of life. But not Anthony. No, he’s looking at me in a way that shows his concern along with his determination to fix it, and I couldn’t appreciate it more than I do right now.

  “I just finished feeding them, but they’ll need another bottle in an hour or so. I’ve got the heat lamp, and it definitely helps keep them warm, but usually their mom would also stimulate the kittens by licking and cleaning them. And if we can partially mimic that, it’d be really beneficial.”