Cook's Choice: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 4)

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Cook's Choice: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 4) Page 6

by Janice M. Whiteaker


  Josie’s brows come together at the odd filling of the audience. “I would have thought they’d want to be front and center.”

  “They sit there because they think they can see up his shorts when he stretches.”

  Josie doesn’t look surprised. “Sounds about right.”

  Nothing is shocking for people who work with kids or the older crowd. They are either too old or too young to care what other people think of them and it shows.

  “Fortunately most of them can’t see what’s in front of their face, let alone something ten feet away.”

  Josie snorts. “It’s probably better they think they can see it. Otherwise they’d try to get a closer look.”

  “Some of them have.” It’s why we go through instructors as quickly as we do.

  “What’s this shit?” Irene, one of Violet’s cohorts glares at me from where she stands by the newest addition to the aerobics’ day setup.

  “Where in the world did you find that?” Josie covers her mouth with one hand.

  “I called around the theaters to see if anyone was upgrading, and found a place that was throwing their old partitions away.” The belted barrier stands between Tom and his adoring fans.

  Josie leans into my ear. “I think you’re on Irene’s shit list right now.”

  “It was either that or they lose Tom forever.” I shrug at the old lady giving me the death stare from the front of the room. “He was uncomfortable with how handsy they get.”

  I spend the rest of the morning fielding the complaints I expected, trying my best to placate a dozen women who currently hate my guts. By the time lunch rolls around, my belly is growling and I’m pretty sure there’s a petition started to burn the belt barriers.

  At least they’re staying busy. That’s my job.

  I close my office door as I head to the cafeteria, locking it just in case anyone is considering retaliation.

  Last time I ended up with my stapler glued to my desk.

  I’m responding to text messages from the new aerobics instructor as I pass the front entrance. She’s super excited and sweet as pie. Hopefully I can get the ladies to be on their best behavior.

  “Hey.”

  The sound of Levi’s voice nearly makes me trip over my own feet.

  It does make me drop my phone.

  I cringe as I lean down to pick it up, crossing my fingers that it’s intact.

  Somehow good luck has decided to finally shine down on me, and the screen is still smooth and crack free.

  I turn to face him. “Can I help you with something?”

  Levi lifts the foam container in his hands. “I brought you lunch.”

  The smell sneaking through the tiny gap between the lid and base is divine. Whatever’s in there is definitely better than anything awaiting me in the cafeteria.

  “Why?”

  Levi eyes the guard at the desk behind me. He’s staring right at us, not even pretending not to listen. “Can we go somewhere else?”

  I should make him say what he wants right here in front of God and everybody. I’m used to people judging my career choice.

  I’m used to people judging me period. It’s always happened.

  I huff out the frustration building in my chest. “Fine.” I turn, not even checking to see if Levi follows me to my office.

  When I get there, three women are outside it, staring at me like deer in the headlights.

  “Really, Evelyn?”

  The one in the center has a hairpin pinched in her fingers, shoving it into the keyhole, trying to jimmy open the lock.

  Their eyes get wider as Levi steps in at my side. “Ladies.”

  They all immediately straighten, mouths hanging open as they ogle him.

  I sigh. Nothing like a little man candy to make the ladies lose their train of thought. “Excuse me.” I work my way between their walkers and canes to unlock my door.

  Cook nods at each of them as he follows behind me, closing the door on their gaping faces, before setting the container on my desk. “Eat.”

  “Why are you here?” I have to work hard not to stare at the box.

  I’m not a great cook. Anything I can accomplish is pre-packaged and simple to assemble.

  Something a kid can make herself.

  “I thought you might be hungry.” He sits across from me, making it clear he’s not leaving any time soon.

  “So you came all the way here to bring me food?” I lean back in my chair, trying to put a little distance between my nose and the scents taunting my willpower.

  “Suddenly you’re against a person showing up uninvited?” The line of his mouth barely softens. “At least I didn’t sit out in the parking lot watching you for an hour and a half first.”

  I scoff, straightening in my seat. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d just told me what I wanted to know.”

  It’s my fall back. The only way I can justify the things I’ve done.

  Making it his fault.

  Cook’s eyes stay on mine as the seconds drag on. The way he looks at me makes my heart race and my palms sweat.

  I’m in over my head on this, but I’m not backing down.

  I’m not going away.

  Finally he rubs both hands over his face. “I don’t know what to do with you, Pinky.”

  “Tell me what I want to know and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

  Levi’s hands drop to his lap. “Not true.” He nods to the container. “I thought you liked my food.”

  “I do, but...” I accidentally look down at the foam box I’m positive has something amazing in it.

  “But what, Carly?” His voice is low and soft. “It’s just lunch. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

  But it is more. What exactly, I’m not sure of. I do know that none of the potential options are anything I can handle.

  Or should want to handle.

  I’m not letting him figure that out though.

  I flip open the lid and have to swallow down the watering in my mouth. “Tacos.”

  Crap. I love tacos.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I brought all three we made today.” Cook leans forward, pointing to each as he explains. “That’s Korean beef with shredded kimchi. The middle is schezwan chicken with rice wine pickled cabbage and carrots, and the last one is spicy garlic pork with daikon slaw and green onions.” He pauses, eyes scanning me for just a second. “And that’s just fried rice.”

  “Just?” I poke the fork through the plastic packaging of the set he brought and immediately shove it into the pile of brown-tinted grains littered with chopped vegetables and bits of egg. “This is a meal by itself.” I can’t help the sound I make when it hits my mouth.

  “It’s good?”

  I stop chewing, eyes moving to the man sitting across from me. He’s on the edge of his seat, eyes locked onto me.

  “It’s perfect.” I swallow it down. “Definitely better than Momma Rosa’s.”

  He almost smiles, smothering it out at the very last second. “She still outsells me.”

  “Does she, though?” I pick up the beef taco first. The tortilla is soft but not soggy as I bite into it. The way it tastes is indescribable. I don’t know how he comes up with the ideas he does. How Levi can combine such different cuisines in a way that highlights the perfection of both. “Levi, this is amazing.”

  His whole demeanor changes in an instant. Levi’s eyes drop from where they were on mine, drifting around my office. “Good. I’m glad you like it.” He practically jumps from the chair, scratching at one of his reddening ears. “I’ve got to go.”

  He doesn’t look back. Doesn’t even pause as he all but runs from my office.

  I stare down at the food Levi was so clearly proud of.

  As he should be.

  But something I said upset him. Not in an angry way.

  It was more like I hit a nerve.

  “I hear you had a visitor.” Violet’s head is poked into the door Levi left ajar in his hasty r
etreat. “A smokin’ hot one.”

  “You heard right.” No sense in denying any of what she said. It’s all true.

  Levi is very, very attractive. Face, body, eyes, somehow the good Lord decided to give him all of it.

  “I heard he’s got tattoos all over him.” Violet edges her walker through the opening, knocking the door open wider. “I bet he’s got piercings too.” Her eyes widen, and one finger pops up to point at my face. “You just blushed.” She finishes scooting into my office and plops down in the chair Levi just vacated. “Bet it’s his nipples.”

  I drop my head to my hands. “I can’t think about that, Violet.”

  “And why the hell not? You’re young. That’s all you should be thinking about.” Violet’s brows come up. “I’ll bet he’s thought the same things about you.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “He thinks I’m a pain in his butt.”

  “Men don’t bring pains in their ass lunch.” Violet leans in, peering at my container of tacos. “Nice lunch too from the looks of it.”

  “He owns food trucks.” I take a bite of the pork taco next. “Holy cow.”

  “Now you’re making me think I should stalk him.”

  I hold the taco out to her, but she waves me off. “You enjoy your lunch from your suitor.”

  “He’s not my suitor.” I’m through the pork taco and on to the last one. “Oh.”

  “He would be if he watched you eat that food.” Violet’s nose wrinkles. “You sound like sex.”

  I’ve never had a friend like Violet.

  I’ve never really had a friend.

  Definitely not one who says the things she does. “I don’t sound like sex.”

  “Then you’ve only been having the bad kind.” Her penciled brows come together. “Carly, can I ask you a serious question?”

  “I’ve had sex.”

  One wrinkled hand comes to her chest. “Thank God. I was about to feel real bad for when that man decides to come for you.”

  “He’s not coming for me.” I point to the hall. “Didn’t you see him run out of here like there was a fire?”

  Violet's face splits into a slow grin. “Maybe there was.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.” I dig back into the rice. I’m probably going to be sick from eating this much and I don’t even care.

  It’s that good.

  “Not yet, but who knows when it will happen, so you better enjoy me while you can.” Her expression turns thoughtful. “Speaking of enjoying it while you can...”

  “No.” I shake my head without looking up from the last of my food. “Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is no.”

  “I’ll make you a bet.” Violet wiggles her brows at me. “If I win, I will make all the girls act right on Thursdays at aerobics.”

  I look up. She got my attention on that one. “And if I win?”

  Her smile turns devilish. “You’re not going to win, Sugarbear.”

  “What’s the bet?”

  “I bet that man wants you.” She leans back in her seat, expression smug. “And I know how to prove it.”

  7

  I DON’T LOOK over as Carly gets in the truck.

  I’ve got to stick to my guns with this woman, otherwise she’ll get the wrong idea. Think I’m a nice guy. The kind that brings a woman lunch when he’s upset her.

  Which is not what I did.

  “How was your day?” Her words are clipped and short.

  Looks like I’m not the only one who’s decided to put some distance between us.

  “Fine.”

  The rest of the ride to her apartment is silent. Carly only brought one change of clothes because somehow she thought this was going to be a short-term thing. She needs more pajamas and a reality check.

  She doesn’t say anything even when we pull into her lot. Just sits there staring silently out the window.

  I put my truck in park and she jumps out and walks right up the sidewalk without so much as a glance around.

  The woman would get herself hurt if I let her.

  Lucky for her the lot is quiet and has been all day. I nod to Butch where he sits in the last spot in the very corner, his bright yellow car an unmissable sign of our presence here.

  Carly is already inside by the time I reach the door, but she’s not packing.

  She’s pacing.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I close the door, locking the bolt just to be safe.

  She stops, rolling her shoulders back as she turns to face me. “I need to ask you a question.”

  “If it’s about Herbert—”

  “It’s not.” She takes a few steps my way. “It’s about something else.”

  Great. Now she has more questions I probably won’t answer. “Fine.”

  Carly keeps walking toward me. “I was talking to Violet today—”

  “Who’s Violet?”

  “She’s...” Carly’s head tips to one side. “My friend at work.”

  “Is this the same friend that told you to stalk me?”

  Carly doesn’t answer me for a heartbeat. “Yes.”

  “That doesn’t bode well for this conversation.” I force my feet to stay put as she continues advancing on me. I’m not intimidated by this woman at all.

  She just makes me nervous.

  Pinky looks all sweet and innocent, but somehow she’s sneakily threatening and more than a little hazardous. Like a miniature pony that kicks you when you’re not looking.

  “Probably not, but I really need the girls to be on their best behavior Thursday.” Carly is right in front of me now. She rubs her lips together. “Violet thinks—” She clears her throat, coughing a little at the end. “Do you...”

  Carly takes a breath and huffs it out. “Are you...”

  “Spit it out, Pinky. We don’t have all night.” I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but it’s about to give her a heart attack from the looks of it.

  Carly shakes her hands a couple times, rocking on her feet.

  And then she lunges at me, palms pressed to my face as her lips bump into mine.

  I freeze. I’m not sure what in the hell is happening right now.

  One second I think she’s got some question about the club or King, and the next her body is tight to mine with her soft lips shoved against my mouth.

  It’s not exactly how this usually goes.

  Before I can fully wrap my brain around the situation, her lips break free.

  But Carly doesn’t step away. She presses closer, her mouth hovering a breath away as her eyes move over mine.

  And then she kisses me again, this time softer. Sweeter.

  And unfortunately, better. One arm loops around my neck, pulling me closer as her tongue slides across my lower lip.

  Teasing me with a taste of what she could offer.

  It’s nothing like anything I’ve had before.

  I shouldn’t want it.

  I shouldn’t want her. It’s not fair.

  But damn it.

  I shove my hands into her hair and pull her closer, taking control of what she started.

  That’s the only hope I have. To prove to Pinky she’s in over her head.

  The kind of women who can handle what I dish out aren’t like her.

  They aren’t soft. They aren’t sweet.

  They are bold and in your face.

  And even they get tired of my shit.

  Just like Pinky will.

  I expect her to back off, shove me away and run.

  It’s what I’m gunning for.

  Instead she holds me tighter, presses closer to me.

  I push the envelope a little more, shoving her body across the room until her back’s against the wall, giving her no way out.

  But there’s always a way out. Always.

  I just need her to feel what it’s like. To know how it is to be at my mercy.

  She won’t like it.

  Pinky’s fingertips dig into my face, shoving it away like I knew she was going to. I let
her push at me, give her the space she needs to break away.

  But Carly doesn’t take it. Her eyes drop to my mouth and the woman licks her fucking lips.

  “Damn it, Pinky.” I shove away from her soft and willing body and pace to the door, grabbing the handle.

  It’s locked. I fight with the lock, panic and anger making me fumble the task. I’m frustrated. I’m pissed.

  I’m scared.

  I finally get it open, yanking it wide, calling over my shoulder as I march out. “Go get your shit and get outside.”

  Butch is watching me over the top of his shades as I come his way. “Take her to the firehouse when she’s done.”

  “You got someplace to be?”

  “Yup.” I don’t give him any more explanation. He doesn’t need it. I jump in my truck and peel out, flooring the gas to put as much space between me and that woman as possible.

  Because she’s going to make me lose my shit.

  ****

  THE FIREHOUSE IS silent as I creep inside. Everything is dark and shadowed in the kitchen as I sneak through on my way to the couch. If I pass out now I can get three hours before I have to get up to beat Pinky out.

  She’s going to have to deal with Preacher taking her to work, because I can’t handle her.

  Who’d of thought a woman who wears sweater sets and rosebud earrings would be the one to send me over the edge?

  Not me.

  “You left me.”

  I almost knock over one of Felicity’s plants as I jump back at the soft sound of Carly’s voice.

  “Left me with some man I don’t even know.” She’s sitting in one of the low-back armchairs in the main room, staring my way in the darkness. Carly stands and slowly walks my way. “You acted like a jerk.”

  “I am a jerk, darlin’. I thought you would have noticed that by now.” She needs to see the truth. What I am, instead of what she wants me to be.

  “You might make some people believe that, Levi. Not me.” She doesn’t stop coming toward me, just like earlier in her apartment.

  Only this time I’m smart enough to know I should run away.

  I start backing up and she immediately stops. “Are you running from me?”

  “No.” Now I have to stand still to prove she’s wrong.

  “Good.” Carly starts walking again. In just a few steps she’s close enough I can see what she’s wearing.

 

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