Unbound (Crimson Romance)

by Nikkie Locke

  “Ten minutes,” Devin told her. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  She hung up the phone. “Chase’ll be here in ten.”

  “A real ten minutes?” he asked.

  “Like a real one o’clock?”

  “You weren’t here at one.”

  “How do you know?” she asked.

  “I drove by on my way to a call. Your car wasn’t here.”

  “I got hung up at the station,” she told him.

  “Right. Sure you did.”

  I was so right about him. He’s an ass, she thought. She moved out of the bedroom to wait for her sister on the porch.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Payten stared out the window of Dean’s truck. They had stopped by her parents’ house and were on their way to his.

  As he drove down the gravel road, she heard the slight pinging sound caused by the rocks when they flipped up and hit the underside of the truck. She had always found the noise comforting. While growing up, her parents had taken her for a drive along the winding gravel roads outside of town every Saturday morning before opening the diner.

  He reached over and set his hand on her knee. “What are you thinking about so hard over there?” he asked with a quick glance at her.

  “A lot of things,” she answered. She laid her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. He smiled. “My parents used to wake me up at the crack of dawn on Saturdays. They put me in the car, and we would drive all over these back roads.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  “It was. I used to whine about getting up early, but now I’m really glad they did.”

  He glanced at her again. “Thinking about those drives?”

  “Not really. I was thinking how strange this past week has been. It’s a lot to process.”

  He nodded. “Everything with — yeah.”

  “There’s all the creepy, freaky psycho-man stuff, but there’s this, too.” She gestured between herself and him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It hasn’t even been a week since the first time you kissed me. I’m practically moving in. Doesn’t that freak you out?”

  He stopped the truck.

  “Dean, you can’t stop here. You’re in the middle of the road.”

  He put the truck in park. “We’re more likely to get hit by a deer coming out of the brush in the ditch sitting here than we are to see another car.”

  She squirmed a little in her seat. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “So why are we stopped here?” she asked.

  “To talk. We’re going to lay some ground rules for my house. If you’re still freaked, I’ll take you back to your parents’ house.”

  “I’m not — ”

  “You get my room,” he interrupted. “To yourself. I’ll be on the couch.”

  “What? Why?”

  “If I’m in that bed with you, we’ll be having sex. I’d like to say I wouldn’t push, but I’d work really hard to convince you that you were ready. You’ve got enough on your plate without that.”

  “But — ”

  He shook his head. “This isn’t something I’m willing to mess up. I don’t want this to fall apart because I rushed you.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  She melted a little that he cared enough to worry about pushing her. It made her positively gooey that he’d admit to it. At the same time, it ticked her off a little that he didn’t trust her to take responsibility for her side of things.

  “Dean, I’m a big girl. No matter how tempting you think you are, you couldn’t get me into bed unless I wanted to be there.” She reached out to touch his cheek to soften the blow to his ego. “I appreciate that you’re worried for me, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d trust me a little more. If — and when — I make the decision to sleep with you, it’ll be because that’s what I want. Understand?”

  “Yeah. A little harsh, but yeah. I got it.”

  She shrugged. “Why beat around the bush if you don’t have to? Britt says it’s better to be blunt.”

  Laughing, he shifted in his seat as he put the truck back in gear. “She would.”

  She was reassured by his reactions. Staying with him didn’t worry her as much as it should. When she’d told him what she was thinking about, he’d assumed she was freaked out. She had been thinking she should be nervous, but she wasn’t.

  Maybe they hadn’t been together long, but it was obvious he cared. He was fiercely protective of her. Driving her home the night of Bridgett’s party so she didn’t have to walk home in the dark. Running interference with Fletcher at the diner. Trying to protect her from gossip. Even trying to keep her safe from himself.

  She stopped thinking so much when the truck turned into a gravel driveway. The driveway turned and twisted back through the wooded area. She’d been asleep on the way to his house last night and from his house that morning. This was actually the first time she’d been awake for the trip. Now that she was awake, she was excited to see his home. She didn’t remember much about it from her short stumble to the truck earlier that morning.

  “Think your driveway’s long enough?”

  “If someone makes it to the house, it’s because they’re supposed to be there,” he answered.

  The truck followed one last curve in the driveway before the house came into view. The driveway ended at the front of a two-car garage. Leafless trees surrounded the house except for a very small area of the front yard on the other side of the driveway.

  The house itself was splendid. Payten admitted to being somewhat of a house geek. She liked to look at house designs online. She even had a folder full of websites for house blueprints on her computer.

  Despite that, his house took her breath away. She had imagined an ordinary house for him. Perhaps a log cabin. The house was neither of those.

  “This is your house?”

  He stopped the truck in front of the garage. “Yeah. Why?”

  She looked at the house and then back at him. “It’s not what I imagined.”

  She stared at the house as he slid out of the truck. Grabbing her bag off the floorboard, she followed out her door.

  “What did you imagine?” he asked, holding out his hand for her bag.

  She handed it to him and closed the truck door. “I don’t know. Something more bachelor pad-ish.”

  He laughed. “You mean like a log cabin in the middle of the woods?”

  “That sounds more like a hermit, but yes, that’s what I imagined.”

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the porch. “I am a bit of a hermit, but I’m not a big fan of cabins. Too much maintenance.”

  She followed him onto the wraparound porch, taking note of the dark, rich wood it was made from. She reached out to run her hand along the pebbled gray stone that made up most of the exterior of the house. The stone flowed along the outside of the house to a bay window that jutted out away from the straight lines of the house. The large window was framed by shutters in the same dark wood as the porch. As they walked past the window, she tried to peek inside. She couldn’t see into the house because of the filmy, cream-colored curtains blocking the window.

  “This is a beautiful house, Dean.”

  He smiled. “I know.”

  She laughed. “You’re supposed to say thank you.”

  “The guys and I built it. Did you know that?” He let go of her hand to unlock the front door.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  He opened the door and ushered her in. “The guys were just starting to get their business off the ground. I had rented a house from Ms. Taylor that summer, and she was driving me nuts. To make a long story really short, Kalvin talked me into having them build me a house.”

  She glanced around the small foyer. It was a little bigger than her foyer, but not by much. He peeled off his coat and hung it on a hook on the wall. He motioned for hers.

  “You’re going to hang it up?”

 
“You want me to throw it on the couch?”

  She laughed. “I guess not.” She took off her coat and handed it to him. “How about a tour?”

  “How about lunch first? I’m starving.”

  Her stomach chose that moment to grumble. She laughed and pressed a hand to it. “It sounds like I am, too.”

  “Lunch it is.” He stepped around her and headed for the kitchen.

  She followed him. They walked to the end of the hallway, which opened into the living room. She noticed there wasn’t a television in the room. The living room and kitchen were open to each other.

  She stopped as the hardwood floors of the living room gave way to the smooth tile floors of the kitchen. The gray tiles were complemented by dark brown cabinets and gray granite countertops. When she looked straight into the kitchen, the cabinets formed an open “U” shape.

  On the far wall, a six-burner stove top was framed on either side by glass-fronted cabinets that stretched from the countertops to the ceiling. To the right, there was a huge window in front of the double sink. At the end of the counter, stainless steel double ovens gleamed. The rest of that wall between the kitchen and the living room held glass doors that led outside. To the right, the cabinets formed a bar. Two black leather barstools sat on the outside of the “U” for seating.

  “Oh, wow,” she breathed.

  “What?” He glanced over his shoulder to look at her.

  “This is a fabulous kitchen,” she told him.

  “It gets the job done,” he replied.

  “What? Look at this. ‘It gets the job done.’ Are you kidding me?” she asked. “This is my dream kitchen! I could cook in this kitchen every day and not get sick of it.”

  “You can cook lunch then.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m joking.”

  “I’ll cook,” she offered. “I’d love to.”

  “Go for it.” He sat down on a bar stool at the far counter. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw —

  “Is that a second living room?” she asked. She crossed the kitchen and stepped through the open doorway. She glanced behind her to look at him. “Why do you have two living rooms?”

  “It’s supposed to be a dining room. I eat at the bar, though.”

  “You have two living rooms and no television?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t watch TV.”

  She laughed and moved back into the kitchen. “Can I poke around in the cabinets?”

  “Go for it.”

  She did. Poking around in his cabinets, she made a discovery that put lunch out of the question.

  “Do you realize you don’t have any food?”

  “What?”

  “You have a bottle of vegetable oil, a container of salt, Ramen noodles, and an empty box of Fruity Pebbles in your cabinets.” She opened the refrigerator. “And you have a bottle of beer, a brown something, what looks like fuzzy macaroni, and…” She pulled out the carton of milk and sniffed it. “…spoiled milk in your fridge.” She put the milk back and closed the refrigerator. “So?”

  “You’re a cook.”

  “Exactly. I’m a cook, not a magician.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t realize things hadn’t gotten so low. It’s been a crazy week. We’ll head back to town. Grab some lunch.”

  “And go grocery shopping?”

  He nodded. “We probably should do that.”

  She sighed as she followed him back out to the foyer. “I can’t believe we have to go back to town. I would much rather explore your house.”

  “I can go pick up groceries if you want to stay here.”

  She thought about it for a moment. She really wanted to stay. She could explore the house and poke through his things — She stopped herself. That would be such an invasion of his privacy. She knew it. She also knew she would do it anyway if she stayed. She was just so curious about him.

  “Do you realize groceries consist of more than Fruity Pebbles and Ramen noodles?” she asked him, motioning for her coat.

  He handed it to her with a grin. “Not if I’m doing the shopping.” He opened the front door for her.

  “Fruity Pebbles? Really?” She stepped out the door and went for the truck. “You’re a grown man.”

  “What? They’re really good!”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ll definitely need help shopping.”

  • • •

  After having lunch at the diner, Payten and Dean headed to the general store in town to pick up enough groceries to last them a couple days. They had decided to make a trip later in the week to the grocery store in the neighboring town. Back at his house, he put away groceries while she sat on the counter of the bar and watched.

  “What’s up the stairs?” she asked him.

  He turned to look at her, then in the direction she pointed. A staircase ran along the back side of the living room.

  “Master suite,” he answered.

  She considered that for a moment. “I realize I was pretty out of it last night and this morning, but I don’t remember any stairs.”

  He shrugged. “I’m lazy. I use one of the rooms down here so I didn’t have to go up and down the stairs.”

  She laughed. “So, lazy, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?”

  “Dinner.”

  She checked her watch. “It’s not even five.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “Well, you don’t have a television. Do you have a computer?”

  “Nope,” he answered.

  “How do you live without a television or a computer?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t have either growing up at Dad’s. I guess I never really got around to getting them.”

  “Well, you don’t seem like the baking type either. What else does that leave?” she asked.

  He thought about it as he rolled up the plastic bags from the groceries and tucked them into a basket under the sink. “I read.”

  “Yeah? What kind of stuff?”

  “Lots of stuff.”

  “Like?”

  He leaned up against the counter beside her. “James Patterson, Dan Brown, J.D. Robb, Kathy Reichs.”

  “The first two, I might have guessed. The last two, not so much. J.D. Robb? You realize that’s Nora Roberts, right?”

  “Nora who?” he asked, grinning.

  She elbowed him.

  He laughed. “Yes, I realize J.D. Robb and Nora Roberts are the same writer. And, no, I don’t read romance novels generally.”

  “Generally?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes that’s all they have at the store.”

  “Have you read any Hailey Ryans?”

  He smiled. “Yes, I have. She seems to be one of Ryan and Hailey’s favorite authors.”

  She smiled back.

  “They’re Ryleigh’s books, aren’t they?”

  “I’m not supposed to tell,” she answered.

  “I figured they were.”

  “She’s brilliant, huh?”

  “I see a lot of Jonah in them,” he answered. “It’s weird.”

  “Jonah?” she sputtered. “You’ve got to be kidding. Jonah?”

  “Yeah. You don’t see it?”

  She shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and waited for her to jump down from the counter. He led the way to one of the two doors on the far wall of the living room. He opened it and pulled Payten in after him.

  “Holy cow!”

  “What?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

  “You read? That might be an understatement. Look at all these books.”

  Bookshelves filled with books lined the room. She scanned as many of the titles as she could. Poetry, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, philosophy, children’s books. The variety would make her head spin if the sheer number of books weren’t enough. A desk sat toward the middle of the room, and a recliner sat tucked into one of the corners.

  “The only thing missing is a fireplace and a cat.
This is quite a library.”

  Ignoring the comment, he moved toward one of the bookshelves. She followed him.

  “Wow. You have all of Ryleigh’s books.”

  “Hailey makes sure I get them when they come out.”

  “Have you read them all?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve only read a couple of them. Like I said, I see a lot of Jonah.”

  “No way,” she repeated.

  He pulled one of the books from the shelf. He skimmed the back, then began flipping through the book. He stopped and handed the book to her.

  “Second paragraph.”

  She took the book and skimmed the paragraph. “Holy cow.” She read it again. She looked up at him. “That’s Jonah.”

  He nodded.

  She closed the book and skimmed the back. “He’s a minor character, but he’s there all right. This is one of her first books though. It’s forgivable.”

  He pulled another book out. “This came out last summer.” He flipped through the book, then held it out for her. “Bottom of the second page.”

  She read it slowly. “Well, hell.”

  He smirked. “Told you.”

  She frowned. “He’s still a minor character, but that’s so strange. How do you remember that?”

  “I read a lot.”

  She snorted. “I got that. I meant, how did you remember where it was?”

  “No clue.”

  “That’s cool,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  She looked around the room. “So, the only thing to do around here is read, huh?”

  “Pretty much.”

  She skimmed the titles of the books her friend had written. “I haven’t read that one,” she said, pointing. “You could read it to me.”

  He grinned at her and picked up the book. “I haven’t read this one, either. How about the couch?”

  “Sounds great.”

  • • •

  Several hours later, Payten stared at the ceiling listening to his voice. He sat at one end of the couch while she lay with her head on his thigh. The words of her friend’s book had never sounded so good to her as when he read them.

  They had taken turns reading. She had started and kept reading until her stomach started rumbling. He had sat at the bar in the kitchen reading to her after that while she cooked dinner. After dinner, they drifted back toward the couch.