by D. M. Burns
“Well, it wasn’t hard to put together. You like your privacy so, anything listed under the name of Creed would generate media, so that was out. That’s not your style.” I point my trigger finger at him then poke his coat covered chest. He smirks and tilts his head to the side. “But honestly, I had my friend do some digging and voila. I found out that your primary residence is listed under that Malone dude, your former employer.”
“Your good.” He chuckles. “Why didn’t you call up? Hell, Chevy Chase was on my big screen girl. We could’ve watched Christmas crap until ya little southern heart was content.”
“I had some other places to stop off at,” I say. It’s probably best that I hold onto that little tidbit where I ran into a real-life boozed out Creed Grinch less the furry green body hair.
“Where you headed tonight?” He asks.
“Uhm, well… I was just about to land a deadly visit to the ice cream aisle at the convenient store down from my loft. My intentions are to clear out the shelves then head home.” I shrug.
One of the sidewalk street hustlers comes barreling by me clipping my shoulder forcing me to stumble forward into Channing’s body wall. Without hesitation, he anchors one arm around my waist and immediately swings his large palm out chest checking the guilty perpetrator to a complete stop.
“Manners motherfucker.” Channing growls while pinning the guy with an evil glare that would have anyone shying away. My eyes go wide because I’ve never seen this side of him. It’s much like flipping the switch on in a dark room only to find a snarling demon ready to attack. Heck, Channing even seems to grow in size with each syllable that he grits out.
The soon to be sidewalk victim looks like he wants to strike out for a fraction of a second. Thankfully, the guy lets his eyes take in Channing’s sizeable frame and evil demeanor, assessing the angry brutal beating that surely awaits him should he open his mouth in a harsh way. He nods his head and mumbles an apology then continues down the street.
“Uhm, thanks.” I slap my hand on his chest and those dark chambers snap back to me softening upon touchdown. “But let’s try not to bring in the New Year’s with some jail time, yeah?” I smile and nod my head which has Channing nodding his too. His grip on me isn’t lessening in the least. I need to climb down from this mountain.
“It’d be a small price to pay but I’ll tell you how you can repay me for defending your honor.” He smiles wide. When I try to pull away from him, he shakes his head slowly no and his hot palm sprawls out over my coat covered back causing waves of heated tingles to course up my spine instantly warming me. “Since it’s a sin to kill Miss. Winters, I’m going to save the ice cream aisle from your punishing shopping spree. Come with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I can’t help it; I giggle.
“What? No, hot date to bring in the New Year’s with, Mr. Creed?” Saying that tings something in the middle of my chest. It makes me think of Brogan. I bite the inside of my cheek while trying to push those thoughts out of my mind. I focus on Channing’s bloodred scarf hanging around his trench coat.
“I don’t know. I’m waiting for an answer. So, what do you say?” He reaches up placing his index finger under my chin and luring my eyes back to him. “Say yes, sunshine.”
Maybe it’s the confusion rushing through my mind or it could be the hurt I’m feeling toward Brogan because I nod yes. I’d like to think it’s the simple fact that this guy is a kind friend and makes me feel warm, literally. Channing doesn’t give me time to rethink my decision either. He drops his hold on me only to wrap his bear claw around my hand leading us off into the upcoming New Year festivities.