by Marie James
“I need shampoo and a few more notebooks.” She shrugs. Ivy is the easiest chick to please. Her obsession with spirals, pens, and stationery should be sad, but somehow it works for her.
“I’m not spending my Saturday at Wal-Mart,” I insist.
I grin, and she grins back.
“Target,” we say at the same time.
“Starbucks first,” I say as I climb behind the wheel.
“You just drank an entire carafe inside,” she reminds me. “You’re going to end up with holes in your stomach lining.”
“Judgmental much?” I say with a grin. “I didn’t get home until early this morning. I need more caffeine.”
I smile and focus on starting the car. It’s the best I can do to try to get the hazy memories of last night’s party out of my head.
Turning the key, absolutely nothing happens. The radio nor the AC kicks on, and there’s no clicking.
“I told you,” Ivy says looking out the window.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter. “I’ll call Dad.”
I pull out my phone and unlock the screen.
“Call a tow truck. Jaxon is in New Mexico. There’s not much he can do for us in Rhode Island.”
“Hush,” I hiss playfully as the phone begins to ring in my ear.
“Sweetheart,” Dad answers in lieu of a hello.
“Hey, Dad. I have a problem.”
“Don’t tell me you spent all the money I sent last week.”
I shake my head. “No. I’ve barely touched it. My car won’t start.”
“Did you check the battery? Is it out of gas?”
“It has gas, but check the battery? Seriously? I don’t know crap about cars.”
“I told you to trade it in last year.”
I sigh. ‘“I told you so’ doesn’t exactly get me out of this parking lot.”
He laughs. “Fair enough. I’ll call a towing company, but you seriously need to get a new car.”
“Tell her I’ll send her some links later,” Pop chimes in from the background. “There are a few dealerships in town that are running some great end of summer deals.”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t you need to know where I am?”
I hear both of them laugh. “Sweetheart,” Dad says. “I always know where you are.”
“Creeper.” I look over at Ivy who isn’t surprised that my dads know our location even from thousands of miles away. “I bet you have a satellite on me.”
“That’s ridiculous. The White House turned down that request, but I do track your phone.” He hangs up, and my mouth just drops open.
“Dad does the same with me,” Ivy mutters. “Gigi got a new phone when she left last year. So he has no idea where she is. Drives him nuts.”
I cringe at the idea that something could happen to me and they couldn’t find me. Having grown up with the stories of horrors going on around the world, there’s no way I’ll insist on them pulling their “surveillance.” Safety first, as I always heard growing up.
“Control freaks,” I whisper but loud enough for Ivy to hear me. I push open my door to let some cooler air in. “I hope it doesn’t take forever.”
“I don’t think they’re control freaks.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had microchips planted in Sam and me when we were adopted.”
“Oh.” Her eyes scrunch together. “I thought you knew about the chips.”
I grin when she runs her hand behind her left ear, implying hers is planted there.
“I hope it’s something simple. I’d rather not spend my day looking for a place to rent a car.”
“You should just junk it and get something else.”
I run my hand over the recently cracking dash. “I’ve had this car since I turned sixteen.”
“And it was ten years old then. It’s time for something newer.”
Sighing, I look around the parking lot. I’ve heard it all before from everyone in my family. Many were surprised the old clunker actually made it across the country last summer.
“That was fast,” Ivy says angling her head so she can see out of the side mirror better.
The side of a massive towing truck blocks my car at the rear bumper.
“What does that say?” I squint, but the reflection off the shiny metal door makes it impossible to read.
“Camel Towing?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Dad would definitely send something like that my way.”
The height of the truck combined with my low to the ground car makes me unable to see the driver through his window. I don’t have to wait long, as his door swings open.
“Nice,” I say with genuine appreciation when the driver opens the door and his muscular legs and firm, jean-covered ass steps down from the truck.
I’m nearly drooling as I watch him face the truck again and reach in to grab a yellow reflective vest. The sliver of revealed skin on his back makes my mouth water.
“I think the ‘no boys’ rule is going to have to wait until Monday. This guy is just too sexy to pass up.”
I step out of my car and turn in his direction. Seductive smile playing on my lips, I give it all I’ve got.
Shielding my eyes from the sun in an attempt to actually see his face I say, “You’re my hero for coming to my rescue.”
I hear him chuckle, throaty and low, and echoing low in my belly. “So does that make me your prince, Princess?”
Chapter 26
Lawson
There is not enough saliva in my mouth to keep my lips wet at the sight of Delilah Donovan. Two years have transformed the quiet, demure angel of my dreams into a sex kitten with a low riding top and lace shorts that make my mind wander immediately to lingerie that would look best on my bedroom floor.
“Oh shit,” Ivy mutters as she climbs out of the passenger seat and notices me, but I can’t even manage a glance in her direction.
The long tan legs that I remember vividly from her time around the pool seem to have lengthened. She’s gorgeous, my memories not serving her justice at all.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she spits, and the only thing I can do is grin.
She ignores the wind whipping her blonde hair around her face and glares at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe she truly hates me.
“If you ladies wait, I can pull the wrecker around the front and get the car loaded up.”
She shakes her head and with stubborn defiance crosses her arms over her chest.
“I want someone different.”
“I am someone different.” Her eyes narrow at my declaration.
“Another wrecking service,” she specifies, ignoring the implication of my words.
“Not gonna happen, Princess. Now go stand over on the sidewalk and let me work.”
Ivy, having come around the trunk of the car to join her friend, tugs on her arm. She’s reluctant at first, but eventually lets her friend guide her out of the way.
I make quick work of the disabled vehicle, and before long, I’m standing in front of her once again. This moment, being a long time coming, is one I savor. Ivy has a weird, yet happy, look on her face. Delilah? Well, if looks could kill, I’d be a pile of ash on the ground with the fiery daggers she’s shooting my way.
“Your chariot awaits, Princess.” I sweep my arm toward the open driver’s door on the wrecker.
Ivy moves first, climbing in and scooting across the bench seat so she’s against the passenger door. It puts Delilah where she belongs, right next to me where our thighs will be touching the entire way back to the shop. Man, am I thankful it’s a twenty-five-minute drive.
“Not gonna happen, Lawson.” She takes a step back rather than one closer to the truck. “I’ll call an Uber.”
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper and reach out to push some of her wild hair behind her ear. It only serves to anger her more.
When she slaps my hand away before I can make contact, I know it was the wrong move.
“Don’t touch me, a
nd keep your meaningless comments to yourself.”
I shrug, the smile never leaving my face. She’s going to be a tough one to get on my side. “Just telling the truth.”
She takes another step back. “I experienced your true character two years ago. I want nothing to do with you.”
For a split second, my mind races, wondering if this approach is the best way to go about trying to win her back.
“Oh, Princess, don’t be like that.”
“Don’t ‘Princess’ me.”
“Your dad told me to make sure you get home safely. I promised him I would. I don’t break my promises. So.” I scrub my hand over the light stubble on my chin. “You can get in the truck on your own, or I can carry you there.”
Her eyes dart from me to the open door of the cab and back to me. It’s as if she’s evaluating if I’m serious and can’t make up her mind.
“Personally, I hope you refuse. I’ve thought about getting my hands back on you for the last two years.”
She huffs. “And my mouth around your cock, right?”
I stiffen as my past and bad decisions are tossed back in my face.
“We can talk about that right now if you like. I can explain my fucked up reasoning, the reasoning of a boy.”
“You always said you were a man,” she mocks in a lower voice.
“I said a lot of things while trying to protect myself.” I take a step toward her, arms out, my intention to lift her over my shoulder clear. “I’m an open book now. You can ask anything you like, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but I’d rather have that conversation in private and not on the damn sidewalk. Now make up your mind, Delilah.”
She glares at me, tension in her cheeks and stubbornness in her jaw.
“Walk on your own or be carried?”
“Asshole,” she mutters as she walks past me and climbs inside.
My hands clench as the need to help her up with a gentle push on her ass hits me in the chest. I think my greasy handprints on her amazing ass would be the best thing ever, but I have a feeling she wouldn’t be receptive.
“No fucking way,” she hisses and tries to climb back out.
Her body meets my chest as I climb in behind her and give her no room to escape.
“What’s wrong? The seat’s clean. You won’t get anything on your clothes.”
“Let me down. I’m not straddling your damn gear shift.”
I press against her, a challenge. She can either sit down, or she can continue to grind against me. I’m fine either way.
“I think I like this even more,” I whisper in her ear, my voice going hoarse when the scent of her lavender skin hits my nose.
She elbows me in the gut but sits down. At first, she tries to position both of her legs to Ivy’s side of the seat, but then she splits them apart when she realizes it won’t work. I notice Ivy trying to take up more room than necessary for her slight frame. I wink at her when my spitfire isn’t looking. It’s great to have someone on my side, because I know I have a very long damn road ahead of me, and I’ll take all the help I can get.
I settle into my seat and shut the door. The intensity of her scent grows in the enclosed space. I do my best not to look like an idiot when I draw her into my lungs.
“Seatbelt, baby.”
She bites her lip so hard I wait for the blood to run from her mouth, but she just looks ahead and uses her fingers to find the belt and click it in place. Safety first has always been her family’s motto, and right now it works for me. No matter how upset she is with the pet names, she wouldn’t purposely put herself in danger just to spite me.
The truck, idling the entire time I loaded her car up, responds immediately when I put it into first and pull away from the parking lot. Not pressing my luck, I keep my hand fisted around the top knob of the shifter. What I don’t do is pull my hand away when I’m at cruising speed with no need to shift anytime soon. The heat of her thigh against my forearm is enough to make me thicken in my pants.
I sense some form of nonverbal communication going on between the girls and watch them out of the corner of my eye.
“So,” Ivy begins, and Delilah freezes beside me. “You live out here?”
“More like lying in wait like some weirdo fucking stalker,” Delilah mutters.
I ignore her. If she only knew that I’ve purposely stayed away from her until a situation presented itself maybe her opinions would be different. I’ve known she’s been close for the last year, but I didn’t press my luck by going to her.
“I’ve been in Providence since shortly after I left New Mexico,” I inform her.
“And Drew?” Delilah shoulders Ivy for continuing to talk.
“He’s not far. Starting his senior year in Fall River.” I keep my eyes on the road but can feel my beauty relax a little next to me. She may act angry that I showed up out of the blue today, but I know she has no ill will toward my brother, and she’s curious about him. “His Aunt Kathy is an amazing woman. He’s adjusted well. Makes good grades. Stays out of trouble, mostly.”
“You’re not here because of me?” Delilah asks softly, confused as if she really had it in her mind that I’m stalking her. The sadness in her voice hurts me, but it also makes my heart smile because no matter how much she wants to pretend she hates me, I know she doesn’t.
“I’m here for you as much as I am for Drew. Never doubt that.”
“Whatever,” she mumbles.
When I look past her at Ivy, she’s the one to wink at me this time. I pull my lip between my teeth to keep from smiling as I drive up to the front of the shop.
“You work here?” Ivy asks as she leans forward to get a better look at the building through the windshield.
“Yep,” I answer. “Almost as long as I’ve been on the East Coast.”
I put the truck in park and open my door. “Need help getting down, Prin—”
I frown when I see that she’s already climbing down behind Ivy.
I have a long ass way to go, but luckily she’s going to be worth every ounce of pushback she gives me.
Chapter 27
Delilah
“I won’t ever forget which side you chose,” I warn Ivy.
She grins at me as I jump down from the cab of the wrecker. Getting away from the warmth of his thigh and the amazing scent of his spicy cologne is all I could concentrate on since leaving the parking lot.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigns interest in her surroundings.
“Like hell you don’t,” I hiss at her back as she walks around the back of the wrecker.
“If you ladies hold tight and let me get this off the flatbed, I’ll take you home.”
Even in a bright yellow vest, grease stains on his jeans, and a smudge on his left cheek, he’s still the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. Acknowledging that, even in my head, pisses me off. The least he could’ve done is to turn gray or grow warts on his face. The thought of him having salt and pepper locks makes me tingle, and my anger grows.
I’ve learned a lot in the two years since he treated me like shit and disappeared into thin air. Well, it wasn’t exactly thin air, but I avoided any talk of him in the house and made no effort to reach out to him. He made his feelings more than clear that night in my bedroom.
“It would’ve taken less time for you to drop us off before we drove all the way across town.”
I cross my arms over my chest again, an action I’ve done more than once since he showed up. His eyes dart to the swell of my breasts as the action pushes them a little higher in my tank top. His eyes piercing into me does more to my libido than the boy from the restaurant could ever hope.
“Yet you didn’t say anything when I drove right past your street on the way here,” he challenges.
Busted.
He winks as Ivy laughs behind me.
We stand off to the side as an older man comes out of the huge roll-up door on the front of the shop. He stops short and just watches us. I stare,
unabashedly at Lawson, as he strips out of the vest and begins to work on getting my car off of the wrecker. I know my mouth is hanging open by the time he’s done. I’m also well aware of the show he’s putting on. It’s not very hot out here so when he lifts the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his face, I know it’s not because he’s sweating and overexerted.
I sneer even though my face is as deep as my irritation goes. Ivy laughs again when a grunt slips out at the sight of the dark trail of hair snaking from his belly button and disappearing into his low-slung jeans.
“Jesus,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Do you need a minute alone,” Ivy jokes with a quick shoulder bump.
I shake my head. “A minute wouldn’t even do him justice. A month would probably barely scratch the surface.”
“He’s always been very handsome.”
“I hate him.”
I stand straighter, my back stiffening in defiance, but I never pull my eyes from him. My brain warns that I may have limited time with him, and is insisting I get my fill while I can. It makes no sense. I’ve spent two years doing my best to not think of him. Two years of wasting time with other men who just don’t seem to measure up. Two years of silently comparing him to everyone I encounter only to find them lacking. The problem is, he’s an asshole, a jerk who treated me like a whore when he had me believing there was something building between us.
“You’re still mad?”
I’m not surprised by Ivy’s reaction. I haven’t spoken out loud to anyone about Lawson O’Neil since I explained what had happened between us on her front porch before I even knew he was gone.
“He treated me like shit,” I tell her, angling my head to see him when he steps around the wrecker and I lose track of him.
“People change,” she says.
“Not really,” I argue. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun once or twice.”
She grabs my upper arm, turning me and forcing me to look in her eyes.
“What exactly do you have planned?”
I shrug, but even the thought of what I could do to Lawson O’Neil heats my blood. “Fuck him and forget him of course.”
“Delilah,” she chides. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”