Swerve: Boosted Hearts (Volume 1)

by Sherilee Gray

  His hands slid into her hair either side of her face. “Don’t overanalyze this, Shay. Don’t over think it. You like what we do together?”

  “Yes,” she rasped, throat suddenly dry.

  “Me, too. Let’s enjoy it while it lasts, yeah?”

  While it lasts. The knot in her stomach became impossibly tight. This is what you want. No strings. No commitment. “Yes,” she forced out.

  What on earth is wrong with me?

  “Good.” His voice dropped lower. “Now press those curves up against me, and give me a goodbye kiss.”

  She did what he asked, and he kissed her in a way he never had before, slow and sweet. It was intoxicating. He touched his mouth against hers one last time then ran his nose along hers before lifting his head. She felt a little wobbly on her feet when he finally pulled away.

  “We good?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  Edna’s door squeaked open behind her, and Shay jumped.

  “Rocky! Shoot. I completely forgot.”

  Hugh gave her a squeeze. “I took care of it.”

  Shay’s mouth dropped open. “You what?”

  “I turned off your alarm. Looked like you needed the sleep.”

  “You took Rocky for his walkies?”

  Lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yeah.”

  Wow. That was a really nice thing to do. Really nice. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  He shrugged.

  “Catch ya on the flipside, Hugh,” Edna called from her door.

  Hugh’s smile got bigger. “Bye, Edna.” Then he leaned in and kissed her one last time. “Later.”

  She watched him walk away. So caught up ogling him, the way that large body moved, the way his jeans hugged his butt just right, that she only remembered he didn’t have his truck when a taxi pulled up outside the trailer park, and Hugh climbed inside.

  He’d given her a car to use. So they could spend more time together…

  She turned away quickly before she stood there and watched him go like some pining idiot.

  Her mother coughed from Shay’s now-open trailer door, the kind of smoker’s cough that cracked like a whip, making her wince.

  “You’re playing with fire, girl. He’s using you.”

  She didn’t know why she let her mother’s words get to her, why they stung so damn much. She wasn’t sure if it was because her mom thought so little of her, or if it was because she was kind of right. Shay was playing with fire. And she couldn’t help but wonder…if Hugh was the type of guy who had committed relationships, would she be the girl he would have chosen?

  Shay turned to her mother, who was watching Shay closely, expression hard.

  “I’m not talking about this with you,” Shay said.

  Her mom eyed Shay over the rim of her coffee cup, taking her in from head to toe, and Shay knew nothing would stop her from spewing her poison. “No man’s going to stick with a chunky girl. I’ve told you that a hundred times. Men want a woman who looks good on their arm. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the fancy education your grandmother shelled out for. Or the stuck-up way you talk because of it. You’ve got a pretty face, baby, but you’re never going to find the right kind of guy unless you take care of yourself. No man’s going to keep you around, let alone show you off when you look like a slob. Remember that.”

  Shay stood there, rooted to the spot, her mother’s words hitting with agonizing accuracy, one after the other. Until they twisted, began to merge with what Travis had said to her the other night outside Woody’s. They were different words than the ones her mother had just cruelly flung at her, but they amounted to the same thing.

  “No man’s going to stick around if she’s a raging bitch, either,” Edna said from her doorway, eyes locked on her mother. “I take it you’re still single, Alice?”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed, but she wisely kept her mouth shut and disappeared back inside the trailer, slamming the door shut behind her. Great. Now mean would become out-and-out nasty. Her mother was the queen of backhanded compliments, but when she was like this, she didn’t even try to veil them, she just let the insults fly.

  “Don’t listen to her, girl. I know she’s your mother, but she’s got a cruel streak a mile wide. That young man thinks a lot of you. Why else would he come over here and help an old woman out? He didn’t need to do that.” She pointed to the Honda parked outside her place. “Or bring that for you.” She patted Rocky. “Your mother’s just pissed off her life didn’t go the way she wanted. Angry as hell that the men she digs her claw into get sick of her skinny ass as soon as she opens her big mouth. She’s just taking her unhappiness out on you; you remember that.”

  God, she loved Edna. A wobbly smile curved Shay’s lips. “What would I do without you?”

  Edna waved a hand. “Bah. Don’t go getting all mushy on me.” Then she shuffled back and shut herself inside her trailer.

  Shay turned back to her door. Dammit. She wished she’d gotten dressed before she came out. Now a walk to give her mother a chance to cool down was out. There was nothing else for it. She braced and opened the door to her trailer.

  Time to face the music.

  * * *

  Hugh drove the Mercedes like his grandmother would. Making sure not to draw attention to himself as he passed a cop heading in the opposite direction. It didn’t slow or turn to follow him, which meant the car hadn’t been reported missing yet. The owner was probably still holed up in that cheap hotel with his bit on the side. Hugh had spent the last couple of days looking for another Merc to replace the one he’d cost them.

  He’d found this one outside a nice residential property, had watched as the guy kissed his wife goodbye then met up with someone else. He deserved to have his car stolen. Served the bastard right. That was what he told himself, anyway. Anything to stop from feeling like the piece of shit he was. He wasn’t a stupid, punk kid anymore; he understood the ramifications of his actions, how they affected the people he took from. He ignored the way his gut knotted.

  He was doing this for his family. His mom and his sister. They were all he could allow himself to worry about. Thinking about any of that other stuff was just added guilt he didn’t need. He carried around enough already.

  He couldn’t let them down again.

  This time, he would protect them. This time, he wouldn’t fail.

  His mind drifted to Shay, where it always went lately. Since he’d met her, he’d taken some stupid risks. Risks that could have cost the people he cared about most in this world. He had to keep a lid on it, on what they were doing. The way she made him feel.

  He shook his head. How the hell was he going to do that?

  He couldn’t keep his hands off her, no matter how hard he tried. That’s how strongly she affected him. But it wasn’t only that…he admired her. She worked her ass off. Had three jobs to keep on top of things, as well as helping out Edna, and fuck knew what else.

  This morning, Shay had looked so damn peaceful beside him but also exhausted, dark circles under her eyes even in sleep. That was partly his fault for keeping her up most of the night. So he’d turned off her alarm and had gone to let out Edna’s dog. Her mom had arrived while he was waiting for the dog to take a dump.

  She hadn’t introduced herself, but he’d known who she was instantly. Shay had taken nothing from her mother…except her eyes. They were the same shade of green. That’s where the similarities started and ended.

  She’d asked him a ton of questions, all, he’d noted, geared toward finding out how much money he had. He’d worked out her angle from the second she opened her mouth, so he’d held his tongue. Then Shay had woken up, and the woman had lashed out at her daughter, putting her down and talking to her like she was nothing. He’d held his tongue then, as well, though it had cost him to do it.

  Meeting her mother had only amped up his protective instincts where Shay was concerned. How did someone so sweet and lovely come from such a poisonous bitch?


  Until he knew the deal with the pair of them, how Shay felt about the woman, he’d keep his opinions to himself. He didn’t want to upset her.

  Jesus. What the hell was he thinking?

  He shoved a hand in his hair and signaled the turn into the garage. No, he’d keep his opinions to himself because it was none of his damn business. Getting involved with that part of her life wasn’t part of the deal. They were sleeping together. That’s it. Nothing more.

  Shaking his head, he banged a fist against the steering wheel. If that were true, why was his stomach in knots? Why did he crave her every damn minute of every damn day, and not just because he wanted her in his bed?

  It was dangerous thinking. Stupid and goddamn reckless.

  He shut the thoughts down as the garage door jolted open. He’d called ahead, told Joe and Adam he was bringing in a car. They were there, waiting to switch out the VIN plates.

  The last thing he wanted was to involve Shay in any of this mess. He was a thief, a criminal, and if he couldn’t find a way to shake Al, he would stay that way…or worse, wind up in prison.

  He needed to end it. Tonight.

  But as an image of Shay, naked and flushed, standing in front of him last night, filled his head—followed by the pain he’d seen in her beautiful eyes this morning after her mother’s cruel insults—he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

  Not yet.

  He just needed a little bit longer.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shay parked the Honda outside Hugh’s house, or at least she thought it was his house. She checked her phone again to make sure she had the correct address. This was it.

  It was late evening, the place lit up by streetlights. She couldn’t see much, but what she could see was—nice. Not what she was expecting at all. She hadn’t expected a family home. She’d thought maybe an apartment or a warehouse. Not a house you’d see Mom and Dad and their two-point-five kids stroll out of on their way to baseball practice.

  She climbed out, slung her overnight bag across her shoulder and headed to the front door.

  The nerves fluttering in her belly made her heart pound a little faster. Which was silly. They’d slept together several times now. What on earth was there to be nervous about?

  She should be jumping up and down with excitement. A guaranteed night of hot sex and an evening away from her mother. She’d worked her butt off all day to get the website finished for her client, just so she’d have the whole night free for Hugh. Why she was close to freaking out, she had no clue.

  Her palms were growing clammy, so she quickly wiped them on the sides of her dress and clutched the strap of her bag tighter. Reaching out, she knocked on the front door. The sound of footsteps hitting what had to be a hardwood floor was followed by the click and scrape of a lock being disengaged. Then the door swung open.

  And there he was. In all his huge-masculine-sexy-growly glory.

  Her mouth went dry.

  His gaze did a sweep of her body as soon as he saw her, and her lower belly clenched, that heavy gaze setting off exquisite little zaps of electricity even lower. He had on a flannel shirt that was faded and soft looking, his sleeves rolled back to reveal those muscular, corded forearms. The jeans he wore were faded, too, and a nice, snug fit. Her gaze lowered. To his bare feet. God, even his feet were sexy. He reached out and grabbed her overnight bag off her shoulder, hefting its weight.

  His brows lifted. “What’s this?”

  “I have work in the morning. I thought I’d save time and get ready here.” Plus, that way, she wouldn’t have to see her mother until she got home later that afternoon to change for her shift at Woody’s.

  His forehead creased. “Right.”

  Was that the wrong thing to do? She’d just assumed since he always stayed the night at her place, she’d do the same at his. But what the hell did she know? She’d never had a casual affair before. “Um… I can… I don’t need to…”

  “Inside, Shay.”

  He held the door open for her, so she stepped over the threshold and watched him disappear upstairs with her bag.

  She took in his place. The living room was fairly large and looked like it’d been recently decorated. Dove-gray walls, big leather couch and chairs. There was a solid-looking dresser against the wall, but there was nothing on it, and a coffee table that matched in front of the couch with a couple of car magazines and the TV remote sitting on top. She could see the kitchen at the end of the hall but not much from where she stood. The appliances looked new.

  He came back down the stairs, and she turned to him.

  “Are you redecorating?”

  His dipped his chin. “Haven’t done much lately, though.”

  He was watching her closely, but she couldn’t work out what he was thinking, which just made her nerves ten times worse.

  “It’s a great house.”

  “Thanks. You want a beer or something?”

  What was going on here? He was behaving strangely. Standoffish. “Well, I thought maybe we could go grab something to eat? Maybe you’d like to head out…”

  He shook his head. “Not in the mood to go out, babe. I got food here, or we can order in if you want?”

  Did he even want her here? He wasn’t exactly making her feel welcome…or wanted. He’d moved closer but made no attempt to touch her. She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.

  “Um…if you’d rather I not be here tonight, it’s fine, really. I’ll go.”

  His hand shot out, and he grabbed the front of her dress, fisting the fabric, and dragged her up against him. “Had a shit day. You being here has improved the hell out of it.” He frowned, the grip on her dress tightening. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “If you’re sure?”

  He sucked in a breath, and it came out a little shaky. “I’m sure.”

  “So you haven’t eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  His eyes grew heavy and hot, tongue swiping over his lower lip. “Princess, I’m fucking starving.”

  Eeek! She wanted what that hungry gaze promised, badly. But she also wanted to do something nice for him, something she’d go out on a limb and assume he didn’t get very often.

  “How about I make you dinner? Let me try to improve your bad day. I’ve been told I don’t suck in the kitchen.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. Let me order in.”

  She stepped back, and his hand dropped.

  “When was the last time someone cooked for you?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, his lack of an answer, answer enough.

  “That’s what I thought. Let me check the state of your supplies, and we’ll decide from there.”

  She felt him trail behind her as she walked into his kitchen. There was a big island in the middle. Dark countertops and white cabinets. More hardwood floors. It was lovely. The kind of kitchen she’d dreamed of but knew she’d never have. She’d probably be in her little trailer the rest of her life. Just like her grandmother. At least she could pick it up and move on if she wanted to.

  “This is gorgeous. Did you do it yourself?”

  He dipped his chin, watching her move around the room.

  “Wow. It’s amazing. When I was a little girl, living in crappy places with Mom then later, in the trailer with Gran, I used to imagine having a home like this.” She trailed her fingers along the countertop. “Having a beautiful kitchen like this one. A mother who’d teach me to bake…” She cut herself off abruptly. She didn’t want to think about her mother, not here, not tonight. She shut down the memories creeping in and turned back to him, plastering a smile on her face.

  Hugh wasn’t smiling, though; his brown eyes were locked on hers, expression back to unreadable. Intense.

  “Anyway, it’s great. Have you redone the whole house all on your own?”

  He continued to stare at her, unwavering, in a way that made her want to squirm.
/>   “Yeah, still got the bedrooms to do and the upstairs bathroom.”

  The way that dark gaze had locked on her, the thoughts she had no chance of deciphering moving behind his eyes, made her feel strange, not quite unsettled but…bewildered. They sent pleasurable tingles down her spine and at the same time made her want to head for the front door and run like hell.

  Instead, she went to the fridge and opened it. “Oh, I can definitely whip up something easily from what you have here.”

  She took out what she needed and started cooking. Hugh stayed where he was, leaning on the island, and watched her work. She found it hard to concentrate with his intense gaze on her. She sipped at the beer he’d given her and tried to stay focused, making small talk, trying to lighten the mood, random stuff, and definitely avoiding the subject of her mother. But the whole time, she felt that weighty stare on her. Following every movement. She didn’t need to look at him to know he was watching her; she felt the heat of his gaze licking across her skin, a tingle following in its wake.

  When she finally handed him his plate, he stared down at it as if he’d never seen steak, potatoes and salad before. He lifted his gaze to hers, and she watched the way his Adam’s apple slid up and down his thick neck before he spoke.

  “Thanks.”

  His voice was rough, low, and her knees went weak. She forced a carefree smile when she was feeling anything but carefree. “No problem. Eat up.”

  “Let’s eat in the living room.” He grabbed both of their plates and led the way, putting them on the coffee table then flicking on the TV.

  They ate in charged silence. Only she didn’t know what it was charged with. Oh, there was lust. There was always lust. But there was something else, as well, something that confused her, made her feel fidgety, made her belly feel weird and squirmy.

  Shay had only dished herself up a small portion, but she could have had less. The vibes Hugh was throwing off made her too nervous to eat. They finished up, and he stood, taking their plates to the kitchen.

  When he walked back to the couch, he reached down, grabbed the remote, turned off the TV, and stared down at her. “Bedroom’s upstairs.”