I’m not going to enjoy myself. I don’t get close to women. Not the ones I take home, not the ones that claim to love me, not the ones who are grateful for everything I do for their pets. And this? The woman who is obviously just as annoyed by me as I am her? Not a snowball’s chance in hell we’re going to enjoy ourselves.
I glance over at Victoria, who’s back to loving on Jax. He’s staring up at her with his best love me look, and I try not to be surprised he’s taking to her so well. He’s as dissociated as I am, generally.
But no, his tail is thudding on the wall and he’s panting while watching her with a look that begs her not to stop loving on his ears.
It’s fucking weird.
Chapter 7
Victoria
I want to ask him to take me to get my truck, but there’s something so off putting about asking him for another favor. He’s done so much for me that even this small thing seems like a herculean task.
Even now, with Sentinel on a stretcher between us as we walk the sort distance to his home, I feel overwhelming gratitude. And Sentinel, still sleeping off the pain meds and anesthetic, is resting easily.
Jax, still a bit wobbly on his feet, walks beside Kyle without a leash. But he’s so well behaved it doesn’t seem at all off that he’s almost heeling without being reminded. Every once in a while he looks up at his owner, his ears cocked, as if Kyle’s saying something I can’t hear.
At the door of the beautiful home, I notice that the place is ultra-modern, sleek and beautiful. It’s all dark walls, steel beams and floor to ceiling glass rectangles. The door itself is a single sheet of glass that he unlocks with a weird key and slides it open.
“Who built this? I ask in awe.
Kyle looks over his shoulder at me. “Connor.” The single word is rife with emotion, and I sense there’s a connection between the men. Perhaps they’re lovers.
“It’s beautiful,” I say as I step over the threshold. The inside is beautiful. Underfoot there’s an ashen off white wood floor glossed to a mirror like shine. The walls are soft grey until about halfway up, in which they’re a delicate cream color. The ceilings are the same silken grey, with ultra-bright recessed lighting.
The outside of the windows show that he’s either an avid gardener or he’s got landscapers working regularly. I know that there’s a town on the other side of the greenery out each window, but it’s hard to believe it when you can’t see it. Or hear it.
“Bring him in here,” Kyle says as he guides me through the house. I follow and find myself in a dining room slash kitchen area. A marble covered counter separates the two rooms, and a table that seats eight is in the middle of the dining room.
Past the table there’s another sliding door. This one opens to a back yard that’s all greenery and a tall wooden fence in the deepest cherry color. By that back door, we gingerly set Sentinel’s stretcher on the ground.
“I’ll get him a bed,” Kyle says and sets off down a hall. I chase him, wanting to help. And see more of this amazing house, of course.
He stops at a wall with seams that just looks like decoration. But he presses around mid-height on the walls and they pop open. Inside, there are linens, sheets and the like, and some blankets. He takes one from the bottom shelf, a microfiber blanket in the deepest earthen brown, and hands it to me.
I take it as he grabs a few things here and there, sheets, pillow cases, a pillow off the top shelf, a nice microfiber blanket that’s a soft tawny fawn color. He walks further down the hall and into another room.
This room is the same color scheme as the rest of the house, but one wall is totally painted a deep mahogany that relaxes me like nothing else. This is someone who uses color to affect mood. I love it.
“Did you choose the colors?” I ask as he places the sheets on the bed. He glances at me over his shoulder and I’m struck by how the colors seem to intensify the incredible blue of his eyes.
“I did. But it occurs to me that you may be more comfortable in the mother in law.” His gaze is searching and I nod. I’d much rather have my own space.
“If that’s not too much trouble,” I say gently as he scoops up the sheets and blankets once more.
“Not at all,” he says, his tone short. We head back into the room where Sentinel is sleeping and Jax is standing guard, albeit in a laying down, half-asleep kind of way.
“The dark one stays,” Kyle says, jerking his chin toward the blanket in my hands. I set it down and he opens the back sliding door. I’m hot on his heels as he walks down off the little stone porch and down a little path. The mother in law is huge, like another house in the back yard. It’s quite like a smaller version of the main house.
He opens the door and leads me into the place. It’s like a little one bedroom apartment complete with a bathroom, kitchen, and everything. It’s a dream place, way more beautiful than the shitty little studio apartments I’ve been looking at.
The thought of what I’m going to do next crosses my mind and I shift uncomfortably as Kyle leads me into the bedroom. We make up the bed, working together on the fitted sheet, neither of us speaking.
It’s going to be so difficult to find an apartment without a steady income. I have to hope I’ll find someone willing to take first and last month’s rent without my even having a job. And I’ll have to get a job right away. It’s scary walking into the unknown like this, but when I consider the alternative…
I shiver.
Kyle glances at me, his stunning blue eyes serious. “Are you cold?” he asks, his voice oddly husky. I wonder what he’s thinking, but shake off the questions to answer him.
“No,” I say, running a finger along the soft blanket. The colors in this room are just as soothing. This one is that same gray as the main house, but the accent wall is a pale minty green. So very pale, in fact, I begin to question myself if it really has a green tint or if my eyes are playing tricks on me.
“I’ll show you where the thermostat is,” he says, and I follow him back into the dining area. The kitchen is all stainless steel and cream colors. The counters are the same white marble as the main house, and I wonder if I’ve died and gone to heaven. This place is absolutely incredible.
He stops so suddenly I almost slam into him and he presses his thumb to the button and it shows that it’s sixty-eight degrees. But I don’t’ care about the temperature I care that suddenly, standing next to him, I feel breathless. It’s like he’s sending out little pulses of static energy that are tickling my skin.
Chapter 8
Kyle
She’s standing so close I can feel her body heat. And my body knows it too; my cock is up and ready.
It’s unsettling.
Not because she’s not gorgeous – she is – but because I’m not ruled by my body. Even now, with the delicate scent of her soft tawny hair filling my every breath and her chest rising and falling a bit quicker than it had been while we were making the bed, I sense that she’s feeling something too.
Her wide brown eyes meet mine for a second and I see the thud of her pulse in her lips. And I want to taste them. As if she’s reading my thoughts, her tongue flicks out, a pretty pink, and slides over her lower lip in a slow motion that’s tempting. Too tempting. Thoughts of that perfect tongue on the underside of my cock while her lips slide over it fill my mind.
And almost destroy me.
Her eyes flick to my lips and I know she’s thinking about me kissing her. And I want to.
My hand reaches out to touch her cheek.
And she flinches.
As if burned, my hand drops back to my side short of making contact with her. I turn away, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. “This space is yours to do with as you please,” I tell her, hating myself. Why did I try to touch her? Was I really going to kiss her?
Why does it feel like some invisible thread is tangling around us, shoving us closer together in this small space?
“Thank you,” she whispers, her head hanging as if she’s ashamed of
herself.
“I need to check on Sentinel,” I tell her as if I need a reason to leave that isn’t running the fuck away from her before I do something we’ll both regret. Because I’m not controlled by my body, god damn it.
I leave in a hurry. In the fresh air of the outdoors, I realize this is going to be harder than I thought. It’s a good thing that there’s more than just a single wall between us. I don’t think I’d be able to sleep knowing she was sleeping on the other side of my bedroom wall.
I hurry up the step into the house and see Sentinel is awake. He lifts his head and his tail begins to thump before the effort becomes too much. He rests his head back and I begin to talk to him.
“That’s okay. We’ll get proper introductions later. For now, you rest and heal up, okay?” I say, squatting down beside him to run my thumb up the space between his eyes. The dark fur around his eyes is all German Shepard. He’s a beautiful specimen right down to the slightly shorter back legs and lean body with that Graham cracker brown and black body.
He relaxes, his lips puffing out as he exhales sharply. I take the dark blanket and unfold it a bit to make a reasonable sized bed for him. Lifting one side of the stretcher to slide it under him, I’m joined by Victoria, who kneels and works shoulder to shoulder with me.
She’s quiet as we settle Sentinel onto the bed and lean the empty stretcher against the wall of the counter separating the dining area from the kitchen. I watch as she strokes his neck. She talks quietly to him and his ears twitch, honing in on her voice even as his eyes drift closed.
“You’re such a good boy,” she says gently, her fingers around his ear. There’s love in her expression as she strokes the soft hair along the edge of his dark ear, and I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment between friends.
It’s touching.
And suddenly, I realize I’m glad that I did this, not just for Sentinel, but for her too. Whatever demons she’s running from, she needs him as much as he needs her.
It’s a strange sensation and one I don’t totally understand, so I shove it down deep. I’ll inspect it later, but right now, I want to focus on getting through this time while I have a new house mate. Well, a kind of house mate. I guess she’s more like a neighbor.
“I’ll need to do some shopping to stock up and mother in law,” I tell her, not feeling bad that I’m not prepared for guests.
She glances at me, as if only now aware I’m still in the room with her. But she says nothing, and I sense she’s struggling with her own issues as she continues loving on Sentinel with inquisitive fingers that explore his ear.
And I continue. “I can do that tomorrow. And I’ll make some dinner tonight. Do you have any allergies?” I ask, thinking about the things I’d picked up for dinner today. And as I think about it, I realize just how pale and sick Victoria looks.
She’d had that sandwich. I bet it’s tucked in her purse, looking more pathetic than it had in the store. She’d do better by some of my home made stir fry. The vitamin rich meal might just perk her up, bring some color to her flesh, and make her feel a bit better in these rough, upcoming days.
Because she’s going to have a lot to deal with. Sentinel isn’t going to go from zero to one hundred in a day. It’s going to take weeks at least for him to heal up to where I’ll be comfortable surrendering him to home care. Not because I have no faith in Victoria – I don’t – but because I have a standard I set for myself. A dog in this rough of shape with these injuries needs time, no stress, and a stable environment while his body repairs.
And I have a feeling that if Victoria’s life is anything, it’s not stable, stress free, or calm.
No, she seems like the type that either thrives on drama or is running form a life that was overwhelming with it. Either way, not good for the dog.
Or her, I guess.
Chapter 9
Victoria
Outside, I’m calm – I hope – inside, I’m fuming.
Why? Because he’s reminding me that he’s taking care of me. He’s rubbing it in my face that I’m an unwanted visitor who is disrupting his perfect, quiet life with all my problems. Now he has to go shopping to feed me. He has to make dinner for me.
Well, I’ve got a sandwich. I’ll be fine. And I can buy my own food.
But I focus on Sentinel. It was good to see him somewhat alert for a few minutes. And I’d been surprised at how Kyle talked to him. Like Sentinel was his own dog. He’d been reassuring; kind, even.
But then he turned around and talked to me like I’m some burden on his life. What a jerk.
Sentinel looks so relaxed and I feel that surge of emotions rising up in me. Between the stress of the day and Kyle’s reminder of what a disruption I am, I feel like I need to hide. But hiding without my rock is like trying to breathe in the vacuum of space.
Impossible.
Kyle leaves and I begin to stroke Sentinel’s neck as my breaths come quicker. My lungs feel like they’re on fire and there’s a faint feeling in my head like I’d stood up too fast. Lowering my head, I rest it on Sentinel’s neck, feeling like it’s the only safe place to touch him. His head.
Within minutes, I smell food cooking. There’s a sizzle of veggies on a hot pan and a sweet and savory scent in the air. In his sleep, Sentinel’s ears twitch and I lift my head. I stand up and make my way around the counter into the kitchen. Kyle cooks, his face intent on the wok before him.
He’s tossing veggies in the bowl-shaped pan and sets it down for a moment to chop more vegetables in a quick, smooth motion that looks like something a professional chef would do. Then he tosses the veggies in.
“Are those leeks?” I ask, not certain. He looks over at me, his expression unreadable.
“Yeah,” he says, the response curt as he again tosses the veggies in the wok, the motions impressive as he makes the food fly and catches it in scooping motions. I watch as he sets the wok down again and makes quick work of some mushrooms and slices some radishes paper thin.
While he cooks, I wander off, looking at the paintings on the walls in the hallway. They’re bold. My favorite of the three is one that’s red on textured white paint. The other two are variations of each other. They’re blue on white with varying shades of blue from aqua to sapphire.
They evoke emotion like whispers from the past, and I feel tears welling up in me for reasons I can’t quite place. I wander a bit further and catch sight of the master bedroom from the slightly open door. It’s tidy, but the thing that catches my attention is the bed.
It’s huge. The top blanket is sterile white and looks plush, like down. The headboard is tight to the wall and is a cream white leather look alike. Beautiful.
I wander back into the kitchen, wondering about the lack of family things. There aren’t pictures or anything. I get that he’s a young guy living alone – I assume alone – but wouldn’t he at least have something around that hinted at family or a past or something?
“So are you married?” I ask, feeling like it’s a stupid question. I’m mostly worried I’ll have to deal with an angry female version of Kyle. Because he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d be happy with anyone who wasn’t exactly like himself.
“No.”
The one word answer is frustrating. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because he’s so closed off. We’re kind of stuck tougher for a little while, why not get to know each other? If only to really prove to ourselves that we’re polar opposites. Though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’d felt something when we were standing in front of the thermostat.
He’d reached out to touch me, but instincts had seen the move as what I knew so well – someone quick to temper.
But in hindsight, I wonder what he’d been about to do. He looked like he wanted to kiss me. Which was as far away from what I knew of him as possible.
And my own feelings for him are just as conflicting. He’s handsome, and I’d thought about his lips on mine in that moment. Being close to him has an effect on my brain. It’s like bei
ng drunk, slightly out of control, yet still aware.
But when that sensation is gone, I hate him. Everything about him. He’s rude. I mean, sure he did something nice for me, but it wasn’t for me. It clicked when he talked to Sentinel. He loves animals. He hates people. It’s a fucked up mindset, but I get it.
Animals are fucking amazing. Sentinel doesn’t judge me for being broken of mind. He helps me, he loves me all the same, and he knows what to do to keep me safe. With him, there’s no stigma. Especially when I feel like I’m losing my mind. He doesn’t get impatient when a flashback makes me difficult to deal with. He doesn’t tell me to get over my panic attacks. No, he loves me unconditionally.
The kind of love that people are incapable of.
Chapter 10
Kyle
Sitting down to dinner with company feels odd. It’s made more strange by the sensation that she doesn’t like me. The people I generally eat with are family or women I’m with. Both categories like me to some extent, or they wouldn’t be in my home.
But she’s not overtly rude; she doesn’t sit on her phone or anything like that. No, she sits across from me, using her fork to shove a bit of food around on her plate.
I take a bite, loving the hot cabbage and watercress combination. Still, I watch my companion as she takes a bit of mushroom on her fork. She lifts it to her nose and sniffs it as if trying to figure it out before placing it gingerly on her tongue like it’ll bite her.
We eat in silence for a while before I decide to offer something I’ve been mulling over. “I could help you train Sentinel,” I say, taking another bite of food.
Victoria’s head jerks up and she glares at me, her face showing her displeasure and anger. “What are you saying?” she asks, her tone deceptively calm.
Billionaire Bash: The Complete Steele Series Page 43