by J. S. Scott
“I grew up in Minnesota, north of Minneapolis, but wanted a change of pace so I came out here to Seattle for college. Did my undergrad and graduate work at UW.” She bit her bottom lip and looked at the hands in her lap, before continuing. “As for family, it’s just me and my dad now, though he’s still back in Minnesota.”
The pain in her voice broke my heart, and though I was driving, I couldn’t help but reach over and pull her against me, kissing the top of her head. I didn’t know what had happened, but I thought it telling that she was here in Seattle, even though her dad was on his own halfway across the country. Or maybe he wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe he’d remarried… or maybe their relationship was strained. One way or another, it was clearly a topic that carried some emotion with it, and at this point, she had more than enough on her plate to deal with without me opening up old wounds.
“We’re nearly there.” I turned down the road the restaurant was on, and then parked, once we got close. Jogging around to her side of the vehicle, I pulled open her door, loving the smile she gave me as she let me take her hand and help her down from my SUV. Not that I’d be letting go of her hand now that I had it in mine.
I scanned the area as we walked, wanting to make sure there weren’t any threats around, even though, logically, I knew that no one had picked up the hit yet and there was no way of anyone tracking her to our location. Still… I’d feel better once we weren’t out in the open.
Luckily, we didn’t have more than a ten-minute wait for a table, and before long we were both sitting down to a pile of fried chicken and waffles, drizzled with warm maple syrup that had been doctored to give it just a little bit of spice. “What do you think? It’s good, right?”
“It’s a hell of a lot better than good, Gavin. This has to be one of the best things I’ve eaten in a very long time—and that’s saying something, given that Seattle is such a foodie city.” Her lips glistened with maple syrup as she smiled at me, making it nearly impossible for me to resist leaning in and kissing her.
One thing was for sure… Keeping my distance? That wasn’t going to be easy.
CHAPTER 8
Charlie
Gavin’s blue eyes were smoldering with heat as I looked up at him, realizing that I’d been stuffing myself like a woman who hadn’t eaten in days. My tongue darted out to lick my lips, realizing they were syrupy sweet with maple syrup.
My dad had always chastised me about my table manners. Yet I pushed thoughts of him and his words from my mind, not wanting Gavin to start asking questions. He noticed everything, that was for sure.
I dropped my food back on my plate and awkwardly reached for a napkin, doing my best to clean up the stickiness on my face. “I’m sorry. My manners are horrible. I’m used to eating alone.”
“Hey,” Gavin said in a low quiet voice. “Don’t ever second-guess yourself with me. I love a woman who enjoys her food. And I’m just as sticky and greasy. But that’s what good food is about, right? Simply enjoying it.”
It was true that he was enjoying himself, since he’d already devoured most of his meal, and he hadn’t had any issue using his hands for the chicken. And his lips were shiny with syrup—just like mine.
“You have some…” I pointed to my own face trying to let him know that there was bit of crumb in his stubble, but when he went to the opposite side, I grabbed my napkin and quickly wiped it from his face before I could think about my actions. “All set.”
Yet, I suddenly felt ignorant and stupid. What sort of woman cleans up a guy she barely knows? I dropped my hand and my gaze lowered to my plate.
“Hey, love… what’s wrong?” Gavin set aside his fork, his gaze focusing on me as if I was the only thing that mattered. “You’re not eating.”
“I guess I wasn’t as hungry as I thought,” I answered vaguely.
Gavin reached over and gently tipped my face up to look at him. “Talk to me, Charlie… I hate it when your smile fades to nothing. Tell me what’s wrong. Because you seemed to be enjoying yourself just moments earlier, and now…”
“It’s nothing.” I thought of my father who always told me I ate like a pig.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t look like nothing—and I want you to be able to talk to me. About anything. And I can’t imagine what’s upset you when we were doing nothing but enjoying a damn good meal.”
I shrugged. “I guess I’m just a bit self-conscious. My table manners… My dad… he always used to tell me that I didn’t eat like a civilized person.”
“That’s a load of crap, Charlie.” Gavin’s eyes flared with anger. Yet I couldn’t remember if anyone had ever gotten angry on my behalf—and it only endeared him to me all the more. “How exactly would he eat his chicken and waffles?”
I nearly laughed at the thought of my father eating in a place like this. “First off, he wouldn’t be caught dead eating chicken and waffles. But if by some fluke he had to, I can guarantee you, he’d be cutting his chicken with a knife, and he’d never in a million years use his hands.”
A puzzled look appeared on Gavin’s face. “Who in the hell uses a knife and fork to eat fried chicken?”
I shifted my attention away from his gaze, unable to handle the intensity of his ocean-blue stare. Sometimes, I swore he could see right through me. “My father.”
I’d always been expected to have good manners. Both of my parents had come from wealth, and it seemed like I was forever trying to fit into the world of old money and snobbery.
“Sweetheart, there’s something seriously wrong with that,” Gavin observed as he picked up a chicken leg and took a bite, as if to make a point.
“You think so?” I asked, slightly bemused as he finished up his chicken, not bothering once with a fork or knife.
“I know so,” he said with a knowing smile as he dropped the clean bone on the plate. “Eat, Charlie. There’s a good chance you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future, and I’m likely going to offend your sense of etiquette if you never use your hands to eat. Frankly, I’d feel better if you just enjoyed yourself, and ate with me, instead of second guessing everything you do.”
A small smile did form on my lips as I picked up a chicken leg. “They were never my rules,” I explained. “My dad had…high expectations.”
I left it at that, not wanting to mention the fact that my father hated me because I was alive, and Jessie was gone.
Gavin continued to devour his meal, clearly enjoying himself. “Your dad has to be damn proud of you, Charlie. You’re trying to change the world for the better with your research.” He hesitated before he added, “I’ll bet you graduated from college with honors.”
“Summa cum laude,” I admitted hesitantly.
I’d never gotten any grade that was less than perfect in any of my studies. Not since Jessie had died. Sometimes I thought I was trying to prove to my father that I deserved to be alive. But it didn’t matter how much I excelled. In my father’s eyes, I’d never be able to live up to what Jessie would have been, and all he’d have accomplished, if he’d gotten the chance to live his life.
Gavin gave me a charming smile as he finished his waffle, and then reached for his coffee. “Always perfect.”
I didn’t know if he meant me—which I wasn’t, despite Gavin’s delusions—or the coffee, but with my appetite back, we fell into a comfortable silence as we filled our bellies with food. And it really was delicious. I couldn’t help but let out an occasional little moan at the crispiness of the chicken and the sweetness of the maple syrup—which was the real deal, and not just caramelized sugar water.
The waitress brought us towelettes, and we used most of them to clean off any stickiness at the end of our meal.
“So what’s your final verdict?” Gavin asked, his plate clean except for the discarded chicken bones.
“It was amazing,” I answered honestly.
“Once you g
ot over using your hands?” he teased.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a quiet voice. “Old habits, I’m afraid. I honestly don’t cut my fried chicken with a knife. But I didn’t want you to think I was barbaric, either.”
“I think I’ll be fine unless you start tossing your bones on the floor and start calling a serving wench to bring you another tankard of ale,” he joked.
I laughed freely at his joke, almost able to visualize the scene. “Nope. I didn’t once have the compulsion to toss my bones.”
“Good, since I like heading to unique places to eat, and it’d be nice if you came with me.”
I’d happily go almost anywhere with Gavin, and likely love every minute of it. I was having a love/hate relationship with my attraction to him, but he was nearly irresistible. Not that I thought he’d ever be interested in me as anything other than a friend. But honestly, I could use a companion who didn’t see me as strange or boring.
He dropped several large bills on the table with the check the waitress had dropped off while we were eating.
“That’s an enormous tip,” I said without censoring my words.
“Dolores is a great waitress. I come here a lot, and she’s always taken good care of me. Good service deserves compensation, and she has a kid in college. Can’t be easy as a single mom.”
My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. Gavin obviously had no chip on his shoulder, despite his wealth. He’d greeted the waitress like a friend, hadn’t expected special treatment, and paid her well as he left the table. So different from my father who treated hired help like his personal servants, and always complained that things weren’t up to his demanding quality. “That was really nice of you.”
Gavin stood and held out his hand. I grasped it and he pulled me up, though he was quick to wave off my comment. “I’m not that nice,” he said, not letting my hand go as we made our way back to his vehicle.
When we were settled into the car, and he was headed toward a place to shop, I finally said what was on my mind. “Gavin?”
“Yeah?”
“There never has been and never will be anything bad about being a nice guy.” In fact, his thoughtfulness was an amazing character trait.
Gavin was silent for a moment before he answered, “Charlie, I’m honestly not all that nice.”
I ignored him. He was nice, but if he didn’t want to admit to it, I’d be more than happy to keep his secrets just like he was keeping mine.
CHAPTER 9
Gavin
Fucking hell… I cursed myself as I finished our drive to the local mall in silence. I’d done time in the slammer, not once, but twice, and Charlie was under the impression I was some kind of hero because I’d slipped a few extra bucks to a woman in need.
I really needed to straighten her out, let her know that I was far from the sterling guy she imagined. I was one of the most tarnished individuals she’d ever meet.
As visions floated through my mind about what had happened with Kane when we were in prison, I cringed silently. What would my sweet Charlie think about the fact that I’d raped my best friend?
My attraction to her kept deepening to the point where my dick was constantly hard whenever she and I were in the same vicinity—which was all the time, at this point.
I wasn’t sure what the hell was up with her father, but it sure as shit sounded like he wasn’t exactly a proud parent. How in the hell could any man not be proud of a daughter like Charlie?
I wanted to fuck her, and I wanted that badly. But the problem was, I also really liked her, and that complicated everything. Charlie wasn’t a woman you had a fling with and threw away. She was the type of woman you took to meet your family. She was the type of woman you spoiled. She was the type of woman a guy could fall for really hard.
And that made her dangerous.
There was no happily ever after for me, and certainly not with a woman like her.
I’d seen too much.
I’d done too much.
I’d experienced too much.
I had no doubt that some of the things I’d done she’d never understand. Why would she? Charlie had gone to school, studied to be a scientist, then pursued her career. Everything had been normal and above-board for her.
But I had lived my life in the shadows, and I stayed there. It was what I was used to, what I knew.
“What stores do you normally shop at?” I asked her. “Nordstrom?”
“Too expensive,” she said as she shook her head. “I just need some casual stuff.”
Nordstrom wasn’t a store I considered expensive. At least, not anymore. There were plenty of luxury stores that were far more expensive to shop at.
We argued good-naturedly for a few minutes before I finally parked near the middle of the mall, and we made our way to the entrance. She could wander wherever she wanted and I’d follow her.
I grinned as she made a beeline for one of the cheapest stores in the mall, a place known for inexpensive, but good quality, casual clothing.
“Stock up,” I warned her. “We don’t know when all this will end.”
She rolled her eyes, and the gesture was so damn cute that my dick was close to exploding.
“I do know how to do laundry,” she informed me indignantly. “I don’t need a whole bunch of stuff.”
She took a cart, running up and down the aisles so efficiently it made my head spin.
Underwear.
Shoes.
Socks.
Jeans.
And then T-shirts and sweaters.
We came to the toiletries next, and she shoved a few things in the cart.
“I think that’s it,” she mused as she surveyed the items she’d gathered.
We’d been in the store all of twenty minutes, and if the store hadn’t been so spread out, I’m sure she’d have managed to get everything done in five minutes flat.
“I’ve never seen a woman shop that fast,” I said. “How in the hell did you do that?”
She shrugged. “Most of the stores are set up the same. I’m not much into shopping, so I get the things I need as I go. And I hate wandering around.”
I knew instinctively that she was probably the type of woman who took a shopping list at Christmas and did everything in one, no-nonsense trip. Yeah, I kind of admired that, but it took the fun out of buying things for people who were important.
“Don’t you ever look at other stuff?” I asked as she started pushing her choices to a cash register.
She looked at me in surprise. “Why? Then I’d just be tempted to impulse buy things.”
“And that would be a bad thing?” I questioned.
“Of course. It would be a waste of time and energy, not to mention money.”
I pushed my way to the pay center as she unloaded the items. Once she was finished, and everything was rung up, I swiped my card and put it away.
“We can’t leave now,” I complained as we walked out of the store.
“Why?”
“We haven’t even been here for half an hour.”
“Did you need to get something?” she questioned.
Actually, I didn’t need a damn thing, but I took the bag from the cart as we dropped it at the door, then took her hand. “Let’s window shop.”
I wasn’t completely certain, but I was pretty sure she shuddered as I led her down the line of stores. Her aversion to malls was actually pretty adorable.
In the next hour, I’d added a new phone, laptop, and several other items to her growing list of purchases.
“Gavin, I really don’t need all of these things,” she complained as we went to the car with the items.
“Yeah, you do. You need a secure way to contact the people in your life so that they don’t worry about you when they realize you aren’t around. And you need to be able to do that without
having it get traced back to your location.”
“There’s only me and my father, and he isn’t the type to panic,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“Boyfriend?” Okay, the question wasn’t totally necessary, but I needed to know for sure.
“Nobody,” she answered wistfully.
I hated myself for being relieved that Charlie really didn’t have much of a life, and in that respect, we were very much alike. Yeah, Kane or my siblings would put out the alert once they realized that I was MIA, but it would take a while. Otherwise, I pretty much didn’t have anybody who gave a shit.
“What about your friends?”
She sighed as I opened the passenger door for her and she slid into the car. “There’s nobody who cares enough to report my disappearance to the police. I pretty much have the kind of friends who meet up occasionally for lunch or dinner.”
I slammed the passenger door and went to settle myself in the driver’s seat. Damn! Charlie was really alone.
“You know, that’s probably not the kind of thing you tell somebody you barely know,” I told her, wondering what would have happened if I had wanted to harm her. “What if I decided I wanted to abduct you?”
She laughed. “If you wanted to take advantage of the situation, you would have already done it.”
She was probably right, but she had no idea how difficult it was for me to fight the urge to pin her to the nearest wall and fuck her until my cock was satisfied.
Mine!
Fucking. Fantastic. I had it for Charlie in the worst of ways, and in addition to wanting to fuck her until she screamed my name, I wanted to take care of her, too.
There was no way I wanted her to know the internal battle I was fighting right now, but she sure as hell was not safe. If I heeded my baser instincts, she’d still be home in my bed trying to recover.
“Maybe so,” I muttered simply, not wanting to continue this conversation.
All I wanted was for her to understand that she shouldn’t trust me. She should never have faith in me. I wasn’t the type of guy who deserved the respect of a woman like her.