“Yeah. No. Ew. I can’t imagine being attracted to someone who frequents a strip club.”
She laughs. “Oh, you’d be surprised at the kind of men that come in there. Some of them are over-the-top good looking. Some are wealthy and powerful. Some are successful. Some have family money. Deadbeats can afford the Dollhouse.” Paige bites her lip and stares into her tea. “It’s the smooth prince charming wannabes you need to watch out for.”
Sounds like she’s speaking from experience.
“You especially need to be careful, Shavone.”
“Why me especially?”
“You’re, um,” she pauses searching for the right words. “You’re one of them.”
“What?” I scrunch my brow.
Paige laughs. “What I mean is you’re of their world, you know, in the upper class.”
I snort. “I’m a struggling college student, Paige. I mean I have a college trust, but I’m certainly not a millionaire trust fund baby.”
She shrugs, laughing. “You’re going to get married and have trust fund babies, though. You’re smart and classy.”
We sip tea.
“Rule number three. No doll leaves the House alone. We leave in pairs at the end of the night.”
I nod. “Makes sense. Safety in numbers.”
My cell buzzes. It’s a text from Ben.
My lady, your shit has been safely moved to the palace.
I almost laugh out loud.
“Well, that’s a happy smile.” Paige puts our empty tea cups on a tray.
I wave my phone at her. “My lackeys are done moving me.”
Halfway out of the room with the tray, Paige shakes her head and laughs. “You are a natural at handling men. You are gonna make a shitload of tips as a doll.”
What? Me handle men?
No. Not me.
I tap a reply to Ben’s text. Thank you so much, Sir Benjamin. Your reward is dinner on me. What would you like?
Sushi with your ass as the platter.
I smile. Be serious.
Okay. I’ll take you covered in whipped cream.
A giggling little voice announces that child and grandmother are back. Since Paige is in the kitchen, I get up and unlock the screen door for them.
“Hi, Ava.” I smile at the precious girl.
“Sha.” She beams back at me. A quick hug of my knee in greeting, she toddles straight to her toy box. Such a sweet child.
I stay and chat with Paige and her mom for a few more minutes. Eventually, I sling my purse over my shoulder, gather my makeup and say good-bye.
In the car, I glance at my phone. Garrett is the only person who called. I tap call back.
“Hey Garrett,” I say, while fastening my seatbelt.
“Hey, babe. I got a little somethin’ somethin’ for you. Can you come by the apartment today?”
“How about now? I bought a spiffy new toy this morning.”
“Oooh,” Garrett croons over the phone. “Bring it.”
With the reverence of a true tech geek, Garrett eyes the Apple box in my hand.
“May I?” He breathes, lifting it and caressing it.
I laugh. “Absolutely.” I hand it over and sit on the sofa to socialize with Hyde.
Garrett unpacks my new laptop and, setting it on the desk in the living room, powers it up. He grins gleefully at the infamous Apple start up chime.
Apparently Garrett told Hyde about my hunt for a night job. While Garrett works on my new tech, Hyde gives an intensive analysis of the top dinner establishments in the metro area and where I might make the most money. He even offers to make introductions to his fellow restauranteurs if I’d like.
“Thank you, Hyde. That is so sweet. I will definitely take you up on the offer if need be,” I say.
Both Hyde and Garrett are such good guys.
“You’re all set on this end.” Garrett waves me over to the desk. “The dashboard isn’t hard, but you’ll need a quick tutorial.”
“Stop.” Hyde holds up his hands. “I am not listening to this. I know nothing if I’m ever subpoenaed by the CIA.”
“You told Hyde?” I widen my eyes at Garrett.
“I tell him everything,” Garrett says as though it’s a given.
“Of course.” I grimace at a sudden stab of pain. I miss tell-all relationships like that. I miss my mom and Val and Dillon.
I breathe deep. I still have my coven — even though we’re scattered. And Nash. If it weren’t for him, I’d be completely alone. I wish I could tell him everything. He’d kill me, though.
Once Hyde gathers his car keys and leaves out the front door, Garrett mouses over a spot midway up the screen on the left side. An almost transparent icon cleverly appears. It’s so subtle that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d miss it.
“This is the only way to get to your dashboard. If someone looks on your hard drive, they won’t find this because it isn’t in your apps or docs folders,” he says.
“You think someone would look?”
“Better safe than sorry. Someone has hacked you before.”
I shrug. True.
Garrett goes over the dashboard he created, showing me how to access the recordings. I can listen real time or download the files.
“The target computer does all the recording and stores it in hidden folders labeled by day. You would click here” — he indicates a down arrow — “to download whichever folders you want.”
Right now the queue is empty.
“Does it stay on their computer?”
“Yes. Erasing things remotely alerts anti-virus software.”
“Got it.” I nod. “Can I have more than one target computer?”
Surprised at my question, Garrett raises his eyebrows. “Dr. Shav, world dominator in the making.”
I laugh. “Not at all. It seems helpful to access both a home and a work computer.”
“Yes. You can install it on as many as you like. You’ll need to know the IP addresses of each to download what they record.”
“And how do I get that?”
He shows me where to look on Apple computers and powers up Hyde’s PC to show me on it.
“So, if I know the IP address and this software is installed on it” — I let my question hang.
Holy shit. I could access any computer on the planet.
Garrett reads my expression correctly. “Yeah. I told you, it’s insidious. Promise me you won’t do evil with it.”
“I promise.” I’m totally serious. “I’ll even lock up the thumb drive.”
“I believe you.” Smiling, he clicks on the thumb drive icon and proceeds to show me how to install his spyware on a computer.
“It’ll take two or three minutes to install.” He ejects the ultra small, micro device. It’s so tiny, only protruding a quarter inch from the laptop. The sleek design makes it look like a button on the computer. He caps it and hands it to me with reverence.
As he packs my new computer back in the box, he details the special code he put into the software.
“Whoosh.” I swipe at the air over my head.
Garrett grins. “Alright. Alright. Suffice it to say that I think I’ve found a way to fool the malware on your old laptop to download this and install it on the spy’s computer.” He taps the thumb drive in my hands.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Like I said, I’ll need to borrow the clunker for that. Can you drop by Jelly U’s with it at lunch tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.” I hug Garrett. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Thank you so much.”
“Hope we catch the fucker stalking you.” He rubs my back.
“I hope so, too,” I murmur to his shoulder.
And get a lead on Val.
chapter eighteen
SHAVONE’S CAR PULLS up at the gate. About goddamn time. On the security screen in the kitchen, I watch her dig through her purse.
She’s looking for the clicker, likely buried under crap girls haul around. Impatient, I hi
t the button and open the gate for her. Glancing around, she finds the camera and smiles. Gorgeous.
I go outside to wait for her. Apparently, she found the clicker, because the garage door opens. Fuck. I’m like a kid on Christmas as I hurry into the garage to open her car door.
“Welcome to your castle, my lady.” I bow.
She grins. “Aw. I was going to say ‘Honey, I’m home’.”
I chuckle. “Surprisingly, I like the sound of that.”
“And I brought dinner.” She opens the back door to reveal two paper sacks.
“I believe I said I want you for dinner.” I try hard not to touch her — per the agreement I made with Nash. But fuck it. I put my hands on her waist and kiss her lightly on the corner of her mouth.
Oh, yeah. That’s not enough. I grip her hair to tilt her head back and shove my tongue in her mouth for a long, slow kiss.
“Mmmm.” I hum, needing to come up for air. “Fuck. You taste so good.”
She grins. “Bet you’ll love the taste of dinner, too.” She motions to the bags.
Chuckling, I let her go and scoop up the bags. “Alright. We’ll save sweet Shavone for dessert.”
“Oh, good grief. Your innuendos are endless.” She laughs.
“You inspire me.” I lead the way into the house through the mud room. Tapping the button to close the garage door on my way by, I set the security alarm on the pad inside.
Ten minutes later, I’m watching Shav flutter around the kitchen — steak and portobello mushrooms marinating while she prepares a salad. Like most witches, she loves veggies.
We listen to Earth, Wind and Fire’s greatest hits on the mansion’s superb sound system.
“Wine?” I open what looks like a normal cabinet. Inside, though, is a floor to ceiling wine fridge filled with bottles. Whoever Nash had stock this place did an excellent job.
“Sure.” She giggles. I love that sound. Her vocabulary and intelligence are impressive. But that’s the laugh of someone young and carefree.
“This place really is absurd.” She turns on the grill portion of the massive restaurant-style cooktop.
“You keep saying that.” I slide a bottle part way out, read the label and slide it back. “I know nothing about wine. What would you like?”
“I know probably less than you.”
“Good. Come pick something,” I insist.
She walks over and presses her left hand over her eyes. Mmmmm. Would she like to be blindfolded? My dick twitches.
“How about” — unseeing, she runs her right hand over several bottles before stopping on one — “this one.”
I pull it out. “1995 Dom Perignon.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Maybe not.”
“Why the fuck not?” I chuckle and shrug. “Let’s celebrate our first night as roomies.”
“Okay.”
I watch her ass as she walks back to the stove. Hips moving to “Sing a Song”, she holds her hand over the grill.
“Wow. It’s ready. Thirty thousand BTUs rock.” She plops down my rib-eye and several portobellos for herself. “How would you like your meat?”
“Pink and juicy.” I smirk with my tongue firmly in my cheek. I open a cabinet and pull out two champagne flutes.
“Oh, god.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I meant your steak.”
I lightly smack her ass. Her ass rocks. I caress it and bury my nose in her hair. “You laughing at my sense of humor, kitten?”
“I’d never dare, Sir Benjamin.”
“Good.” I open a drawer and find the champagne opener. I put it over the cork.
“Wait.” She puts a hand on mine. “Are you sure? This is most likely extremely expensive champagne.”
Grinning, I switch our hands — mine over hers, and pull. I lightly kiss her lips as it pops open. “You’re worth it.”
“Aw.” She tilts her head, smiling.
Back at the stove, she turns the steaks. I pour the bubbly and hand her a glass.
“To sexy roomies,” I murmur and clink her glass.
She smiles. “To gallant men taking in almost homeless students.”
“My pleasure.” Unable to resist, I plant another quick kiss on her lips.
She sips. “Mmmm, this is delicious.” Licking her lips, she sips most of the glass.
Drink up, girl. Maybe I can find out how delicious you are.
I refill her glass while she plates our food. When she’s done, I take the plates. “Grab the champagne. Let’s eat in the great room.”
We sit Indian style on the floor, our plates on the coffee table.
“Oh my god,” I say, chewing the first bite of steak. “I’m a lucky man. A beautiful roommate who can cook.”
“Don’t get too excited. With quality ingredients, I do the basics well. I’m not such a good cook when it comes to shoe leather-type meats.”
“Noted. Only the best for my lady.” I set a DVD case in front of her. “We’ll watch a movie after dinner.”
She picks up the case. Her jaw drops. “Love Story?”
I shrug. Too girlie for her? No. Bet she loves it. “You like ‘70s music. I assumed you like ‘70s movies, too.”
“I do.”
“I knew it.” I smirk, nodding.
“It so happens that this is my second all time favorite movie, right after American Graffiti.”
“Really? I’ll get it for our next movie night.”
“You don’t have to work tonight?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “I took the night off.” To work on getting you in my bed.
“And you’d really spend your night off watching the ultimate chick flick with me?” She smiles shyly.
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but” — and I shouldn’t, but I continue — “I’m beginning to think I’d do just about anything for you.”
Her smile fades into something more serious. Yeah, she gets it. I swallow a huge lump. I’ve never felt like this. I’ve had hard-ons for girls before. My wolf has attached before. But with her it’s more than that. I adore her ass, her body, her sense of humor, her brains — just her.
“Are you attempting to woo me?”
“Absolutely.” I lean over and kiss her — a sweet, soft kiss. I want her to know this is more than just sexual. “So, tell me about yourself, Miss Shavone.”
“Oh, now you’re asking?” She sips champagne, smacking her lips in pleasure for the stuff again. “It’s too late, Mr. LaFontaine. The psych student you barely know has moved in.”
I chuckle. “Seriously. Tell me all about yourself.”
“What would you like to know?”
I throw out the first thing that comes to mind. “Where were you born?”
Her eyes suddenly fill with tears. “I don’t know.”
I swallow. Fuck. I’m so stupid. She remembers nothing about her early childhood. I knew that. Why did I ask?
“I was adopted by Val’s mom.”
“Right.” I swirl the champagne in my glass, feeling like an ass. “How old were you then?”
“Six.”
I smile. “I bet you were a cutie. All pigtails and rosy cheeks.”
“Nope.” She purses her lips.
This conversation is heavier than I want it to be.
“I was that geeky girl in elementary school, you know the one with her nose in a book, gets all the spelling words right, teacher’s pet?”
“Ugh,” I groan, grinning.
She smiles. Good.
“Exactly. That was me, complete with missing front teeth. I was picked on mercilessly.” She frowns. “There was a particularly mean bully who tortured me every single day in second grade. Pulled my hair, ripped books out of my hands and destroyed them.”
“Asshole. What’s his name? I’ll look him up and kick his ass.”
“You’re so sweet.” She giggles. “But Nash took care of him.”
“He did?” My cuz probably killed the kid.
She nods and finishes chewing a bite bef
ore finishing. “Nash became like a big brother to me.”
Aw, shit. He’s not going to like that description. I stare at my food and shake my head. “Did the kid live?”
“Hmmm.” She squints, thinking. Finally, she nods. “Yes. I saw him again in sixth grade.”
I top off our champagne and grin. “Bet he left you alone.”
“Yup.” She laughs.
“How about you? What is your family like?” She sips.
“Most of my family is slime.”
She chokes on a swallow of champagne.
I pat her back. “You okay?”
Coughing a few times to clear her throat, she raises her eyebrows. “They can’t be that bad.”
“They are. My brother and I left home when we were sixteen and never looked back. Neither of us have seen or talked to them since.” And don’t fucking want to, ever.
“Ben, that’s horrible.” She frowns.
“No, it’s not.” I don’t want to talk about this. Right away, I see hurt in her eyes. She’s so sensitive. I have to watch my tone of voice with her. “It’s fine, Shavone. I’ve got Foster.”
“He’s your twin, right?”
“Yes.”
“That’s too bad about the rest of your family.” She picks at her food. What is she thinking about? Being an orphan? Val? Some of both?
“Hey.” I smile. “Who the fuck needs family? Huh? We both have people in our lives who do care. You, for instance, have me,” I murmur and watch her reaction.
“Aw.” She smiles. Her whole face lights up when she smiles this big. “And you have me.” She raises her flute for a toast. “Here’s to creating your own damn family.”
Create a family? Kids with her? I know that isn’t what she meant, but I can easily picture little cubs that look just like her running around this place.
The last Earth, Wind and Fire song ends and the opening hum of “Reasons” begins. I smile and clink my glass to hers.
“You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?” I bring out the southern drawl. Chicks love it. Reaching over, I cup the side of her head, and caress her cheek with my thumb. “I want to get to know you better.” I kiss her, again — a long, soft, sweet, hope to melt-her-heart kiss. “A lot better,” I whisper, closing my eyes and stroking my nose along hers, inhaling her scent.
Trailing light kisses along her jaw, I nuzzle her throat. “How is it that you always smell so good? What perfume do you wear?”
Soft Shatter (Wolven Moon Book 1) Page 13