Fire in the Hole
Page 7
He cupped his hand around her right and lifted it to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers. “Three hundred a month plus groceries, Ma’am?” He kissed her hand and she suppressed the urge to moan and toss herself at him.
“That’s not much, considering most of my stuff will have to go in your garage.”
“Well, some of your furniture can fit in here. The living room’s mostly empty. Heck, if you wanted to turn that into your own space, go ahead. As long as I can keep my desk in there and still work when I need to.”
“Five hundred a month plus groceries. I’d probably be spending at least two hundred a month on a storage unit.” The fact that he hadn’t mentioned her getting rid of any of her furniture hadn’t escaped her.
The left corner of his mouth curled up in a sexy smile she wanted to kiss. “Five hundred a month it is, Ma’am. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“When we go out on dates, you let me pay.”
Well, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. “Deal.”
After they signed the paperwork and she got her copies, Brad walked her out to her car after she said good-bye to Jacob and Mark. Standing in the front yard, she let him fold her into his arms.
No denying it felt perfect.
“I didn’t want to say this around Mark, but I’ve been struggling for months how to approach the subject with him if he was gay or not. I thought he was, but I didn’t want to say anything when I wasn’t absolutely sure. I hoped he’d come out to me.”
“How will his mom take it?”
“Probably be fine with it.” He chuckled. “She once joked she hoped we never had to talk an angry dad out of shooting him because he got a girl pregnant.”
“Wish granted.”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I won’t deny I’m nervous about us right now. I don’t want to screw this up because it feels so right.”
“Me, either.”
“Do you need me to come over tomorrow to help you with anything?”
“No, I’ll be ready for everyone on Sunday morning.” Brad, Mark, Everett, Wylie, and Everett’s friend, Andy, would be helping with the move. “And I will insist on buying everyone pizza after for helping me.”
“Yes, Ma’am. I won’t fight you on that one.”
“Good.” She didn’t want to leave. “It’s quiet out here. I really like that.” While her apartment complex wasn’t a hotbed of noise pollution, it was in a populated area.
“When it’s really late, and the sky’s clear, we can see the different meteor showers.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And Mark has a telescope we got him when he turned ten. A good one. He can show you Saturn and Mars really clearly. It’s amazing.”
“That sounds like fun.”
His lips were so close, right there. So she rose up on her toes and kissed him, lingering, still not wanting to leave.
“Two weeks, huh?” she asked.
Another soft chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am. Two weeks. I think we’re mature enough to know by then whether or not dating will suit us.”
“Are all you scientists so logical?”
“Sometimes, yes.” This time, he kissed her. “And sometimes we struggle to hold on to what little sense it feels like we have.”
Chapter Eight
Early Saturday morning, Lara stared at the apartment she’d called home for the better part of a decade.
A good chunk of that spent with Everett.
She hated taking a full Saturday and Sunday off when weekends were frequently her best sales days. Except it’d been because of Steve, since he didn’t work weekends.
Fortunately, Everett was free that weekend to help and didn’t have to be at a ren fair or other event.
Today would be spent packing and preparing everything for tomorrow’s actual move. She already had some things packed, the boxes stacked in the corner of the living room and in the spare bedroom. Like kitchen items she didn’t need, knick-knacks, the time-consuming stuff to pack that would take forever. And things like books, DVDs, and other easily packed items.
D’oh. Now she understood why Steve had never placed any kind of priority on helping her move beyond insisting it be on a weekend when it was convenient for him. He’d planned on shit-canning a lot of her stuff.
Guess I showed him.
Today she’d finish packing everything else, making sure to label her critical boxes that she’d need right after the move. She’d left the pictures on the wall until today, because when she’d first tried to pack them, the sight of the empty, gaping spaces had brought tears to her eyes.
She was in her bedroom emptying out her closet when someone rang her doorbell. Not expecting anyone, she was a little shocked to see Steve standing there when she looked through the viewfinder.
Crap. It’s like I thought about him and he showed up.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. “What do you want?”
Fuck being polite, he was interrupting her packing time.
“You blocked my phone number.”
“Yeah? So?”
“Can I come in?”
“No. I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“Because you’re being childish, and my parents are expecting us to be there tonight.”
She literally laughed in his face. “No, seriously, what the fuck?”
“Don’t you use that—”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
He waggled his finger at her. “Now you listen to me. It’s time to stop this nonsense. You can’t just walk away from me.”
“Uh, watch me, jerk.” She slammed the door shut behind her, locking the deadbolt for good measure.
He actually had the nerve to ring the bell. When she went back to her bedroom to continue packing, ignoring him, he started pounding on her door.
That’s. It.
She grabbed her cell phone and called 911. Five minutes later, two deputies were dragging Steve off her doorstep in handcuffs when he refused their order to leave without her talking to him again first.
Now she was feeling more than a little creeped out as she watched them literally dragging a kicking and screaming Steve and having to bodily lift him to put him in the back of the car.
One of the deputies filled out the report and gave her a copy of his business card, with the case number written on the back. “You’ll want that for filing a restraining order, if you go that route.”
In the back of the marked cruiser, Steve was ranting, screaming.
She let out a shudder. “How long will he be in for?”
“Resisting arrest and trespassing, probably until this afternoon or tomorrow. Depends on whether or not he can make bail.”
“He can make bail,” she muttered.
“You have an attorney?”
“Yeah.” She fingered the business card.
“Might want to bring him into this, then. He can guide you through the legal process.”
“Thanks.”
She walked inside and closed and locked the door, the shakes hitting her then. Collapsing onto the couch, she fought the urge to break down crying.
Instead, she texted Brad.
You will NOT believe what happened. Steve just got hauled out of here in handcuffs.
Instead of texting, Brad called her. “Say what? What happened? Are you all right?”
She told him, not understanding his momentary silence.
“Get ready,” he said, his tone sounding dark, determined. “I’ll get Ev and Wy and we’ll be over shortly.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Ma’am, please do not argue with me. We need to get you moved out before he’s released from jail. Mark and I can come back tomorrow and get anything we don’t get today.”
“But…I have to vacuum and clean and everything after the furniture’s moved, and—”
“And I’ll do it for you, Ma’am.”
It was the quiet strength in his tone more than his words that finished he
r, shattered her resolve. “Thank you.”
“Let me go sweep the trailer out and call Ev and Wy. We’ll be there in less than an hour.”
Actually, Everett and Wylie were there in under thirty minutes, in Wylie’s truck. Everett’s friend Andy pulled in with his truck minutes later.
Everett looked ready to murder someone. Lara genuinely hoped Steve didn’t return, especially with the men there, because he’d likely get his ass kicked.
“Did he hurt you, babe?” Everett asked as soon as he walked through the door when she opened it for him. “And why didn’t you call me when it happened?”
“I’m fine, just a little shook up. And it happened so fast. I wasn’t expecting to rally the troops for today.”
Then Brad arrived, looking like an angry man on a mission.
If it hadn’t been for the others, she might have been tempted to say fuck waiting and drag him into her bedroom to fuck him.
Except…when she hugged him, she felt something hard and lumpy in his back waistband, under the work shirt he wore untucked over his jeans. He caught her hand and squeezed before moving it.
“What’s that?”
He smiled, but it looked tight, worried. “Insurance.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what it was. “He’s not dangerous.”
“You sure? That’s pretty crazy behavior for someone to exhibit. I have a concealed carry permit, don’t worry.”
Everett looked over from where he’d been emptying the last of the kitchen cabinets. “You’re carrying? Good. I need to get me a license.”
Realizing the thickening testosterone wasn’t going to thin out as long as they felt she was in danger, she gave up trying to talk them down. They were determined men, and basically unloaded her apartment as fast as she and Wylie could get the boxes packed.
Three hours later, she was unbelievably staring at bare walls and empty rooms. Wylie had vacuumed the bedrooms while she’d wiped down the kitchen and master bathroom. The guest bath had already been cleaned and emptied earlier in the week.
Finally, a half-hour later, when she realized she was ready to walk out of there for the last time, Everett pulled her in for a hug and kissed the top of her head.
“Remember the day we moved in?”
“Yeah.” She sniffled. “God, we didn’t even have a decent bed.” She laughed. “Stupid rain soaked our mattress and box spring and we threw them out. We had an air mattress we slept on in the living room to watch TV.”
“Lot of good years here. But it’s okay. This is a good thing, sweetie. At least I’ll feel better knowing you’re just across the road and safe.”
Hell, had dinner last night gone badly, she’d be sleeping under the same roof as Everett again, since the men had offered her one of their spare bedrooms if she needed it.
She picked up her purse and keys from where she’d left them on the counter. “Guess I don’t need these anymore.” She pulled the apartment and mailbox keys off her keyring.
Fortunately, she hadn’t forwarded her mail to Steve’s house. Two weeks ago, she’d rented a PO box around the corner from her office, one she had to pass to get there anyway. All her mail was already going there now.
Steve had groused about it at the time, but it’d been another of those niggling little instinctive reactions.
Like checking on rental vacancies at her apartment complex.
“If you want to go ahead and turn those in to the office,” Brad said, “we’ll head out and start unloading.”
“I’ll ride with her,” Everett offered.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ve got it.”
“In case Steve comes back.”
“He’s right,” Brad said. “I’d feel better if you let him ride with you.”
“He’s not going to come back this fast. They towed his car. He loves that damn thing. Even if he made bail, he’ll still be trying to get that handled.”
“Or he’ll have someone bring him here,” Wylie said. “Or hire an Uber or a cab. Hey, I have a crazy ex, and all three of these guys saw how nuts he was. We’re speaking as the collective voice of experience.”
With Andy nodding in silent agreement, she realized they weren’t going to let her be alone. But…
Instead of bridling her, it actually felt caring. She knew it was because they were worried, and not because they were trying to pressure her against her will.
Totally different from…
Okay, I need to wipe his name from my damn mind.
“Okay.”
The others headed out, leaving her and Everett behind. He pulled her in for one last hug. “Sad?”
“Kind of. I’m kicking myself in the ass that I let him pressure me into dropping my lease. I should have kept it. But he used logic on me and convinced me it was a waste of money to keep renting when I could be living with him.”
“It’s okay, honey. Like you said, he’s an asshole.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and waited until she looked up at him. “Get a concealed carry permit.”
“What?”
“You know I told you a couple of years ago when you first started showing houses that you needed one. A way to protect yourself. Remember that woman who was killed five years ago? And then that serial rapist who attacked four women realtors before the fifth one who did have a permit shot him?”
Her stomach shrank. “Yeah.”
“Let Brad teach you to shoot.”
“I don’t know if I could shoot someone.”
“I saw you fight. You absolutely could.”
“That was SCA, and we weren’t trying to kill each other.”
“You dang sure whacked Rusty good that one time.”
“That was accidental,” she muttered.
“You fought well.”
Although at the time, it hadn’t exactly been accidental. She’d wanted to win the combat and had given it all she had.
She hadn’t meant to draw blood on her friend, just get in a good hit, and he’d readily forgiven and forgotten the incident, even congratulating her on her win.
Still…
“And Steve’s actions are seriously crazy,” Everett said. “Him going to jail is going to escalate things. You should think about a restraining order. Especially since I’m guessing he knows where you work, since you said you met through your job. You need to call Eve and talk to her about what you’d need for a restraining order.”
The anger in Steve’s expression, in his words. That was not a man she recognized.
At all.
That she’d come so close to nearly moving in with him terrified her on a visceral level.
Not only had she not known him a fraction as well as she thought she had, maybe there was a deeper, darker side to him.
“Maybe you’re right,” she finally admitted.
“About which one? Carrying a gun, or calling Eve?”
“Both.”
“I know I’m right.”
They walked out, locking the door for the last time. Everett reached out and touched it.
“You know, I’m glad I was able to help you do this,” he quietly said. “This feels right, doing it together.”
She slipped her hand into his for the walk to her car. “Yeah, it does.”
* * * *
Getting out of there wasn’t as easy as turning in a key. The manager had a receptionist in the office to watch things while returning with them to the apartment to check it out and sign off on it before releasing the deposit refund check.
“Fair warning,” Everett said. “Her ex came by earlier today and had to be arrested.”
The woman looked at him. “I thought you were her ex?”
“Everett’s my ex-husband,” Lara said. “He means my ex-boyfriend, who I broke up with on Wednesday. He was acting unhinged this morning and wouldn’t leave. When the deputies arrived, he fought them, so they arrested him.”
“The point I was making,” Everett continued, “was please pass the word not to release her pers
onal information to anyone. Not her forwarding address, nothing.”
“Oh, we won’t. Don’t worry about that. We have strict privacy policies about that kind of thing.”
It only took a few minutes for her to inspect the apartment and ensure it was to her satisfaction before they returned to the office.
On the walk back to her car, Lara handed Everett her keys. “You drive, please,” she quietly asked.
He stopped. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
* * * *
Everett had shifted from pissed off on Lara’s account to worried about her state of mind. Yeah, she was absolutely a tough woman, but he also suspected there were a lot of emotions rolling through her right now that she hadn’t even admitted yet, much less dealt with.
As he opened the passenger door for her, she hesitated and stared up at him. “Can I ask you something and you keep it private?”
“From Wy?”
“No, it kind of involves him, too.”
“Okay.”
“Can I talk to you about…what you do?”
“What we do?”
“The…stuff. Fifty Shades stuff.”
“Ah. How about you get in, we crank the AC, and we can talk while we ride.”
“Thanks.”
Once they were out of the apartment complex—and Everett was certain no one was following them—he relaxed. “First, text Brad, please, and tell him we’re on the way so he doesn’t worry. Then ask away, sweetie.”
She quickly texted him. “How do I know if I’m being a good…what is it? Dominant?”
“Well, it’s a lot of communication. You talk. Forget the books. You make what you want in terms of your relationship. I’m guessing you and Brad have started talking about that?”
“Yeah. Some. We’ve agreed to wait a minimum of two weeks before we try officially dating or anything. Just be roommates and get to know each other.”
“I’ve got to tell you, Lar, I’m loving him already.” He shot her a playful smile that in the past had always managed to get her to smile for him.
It didn’t fail him this time, either. “You love-love him, or like his ass-love him?” she asked.