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Secret Love (Love Collection Book 1)

Page 5

by Natalie Ann


  There was no reason to really look into Quinton. Nothing more than he didn’t care for the way the guy was watching Piper walk around the store. Pretty much the same way Vin had been watching her. He wasn’t jealous, it wasn’t that. At least, he kept telling himself that.

  It wasn’t even the fact that he wouldn’t stop looking into things until he knew for sure there was nothing or no one following Piper. That maybe it was her imagination, though he wasn’t buying it. Her reaction was just too…real.

  Nope. It was more that it was his gut. And his gut had always been right. Always told him what to do and where to go. What to look out for.

  Right now, he was looking out for Piper.

  He didn’t find much on Quinton, though. A college dropout. Majoring in computers, but more like network and desktop support. Nothing serious or difficult. Not the work of a hacker by any means. Which was why Vin was able to play with him so easily in the store.

  Quinton was an only child of older parents. Kind of spoiled and still lived at home. Probably in their basement, decorated with celebrity posters. By the looks of him, Vin was guessing he might still be a virgin and that he probably had some type of affection for Piper. Healthy or not, it wasn’t one that Vin was dismissing.

  Nothing was innocent in his eyes until he had all the facts, and right now, plenty of the facts were missing.

  It hadn’t taken long for Vin to find out what he could about Quinton, so then he turned the TV on and found some documentary on ancient Roman times that he fell asleep watching.

  When he woke up, he climbed into bed, his stiff neck and all, then just lay there staring at the ceiling until he heard the plate slide in front of his door. He waited enough time for her to have left the parking lot, then went out to see what she’d dropped off.

  The steam was still coming off of them, leading him to believe they were extremely fresh and not leftover from the day before.

  He walked to his kitchen, flipped a light on, and pulled the kitchen towel back to see half a dozen chocolate muffins just calling his name.

  Breaking one apart, he popped a piece in his mouth and closed his eyes in ecstasy. She had the magic touch. Once he was finished with one muffin, he decided to open the card and see what she had to say.

  Thanks for comforting me. Holding me. Making me feel better. And a big thank you for the kiss.

  Guess she wasn’t thinking anything negative about that kiss. Not that he’d thought she would, with the way she was clinging to him and squirming on his lap. He had to get out of there before he yanked her in hard, then carried her to her room, stripped her naked, and buried himself so deep in her that they both forgot their names.

  He ate a second muffin while he decided his next move. Two weeks ago, he would have hidden in his apartment, or snuck around without her seeing him.

  Not today. Today he was going to try to find a little bit more of the old him.

  ***

  Piper stopped to get her mail before heading to her apartment. When she reached in, there was a folded piece of paper on top of all of her envelopes.

  She flipped it open and saw heavy dark handwriting, inviting her over for pizza later tonight. The only signature was a letter V.

  She pulled the paper close to her chest and let out a little giggle. She wasn’t sure if she should say she’d be there or not, and decided the surprise would be more fun. Then again, he didn’t really ask. Just said, “Pizza at seven, my place.”

  With a few hours to spare, she pulled out some ingredients and got to baking. She’d provide the dessert.

  Her tart was cooling, so it was time to prepare herself. Once showered and then slathered in sweet-smelling lotion, she walked into her closet with one towel wrapped around her body, another around her hair, a bounce in her step.

  She was going on a date! Part excitement, part nervousness. The other part was indecisiveness. What should she wear?

  Sexy or sweet? Casual or flirty?

  Too much to think about.

  In the end, she grabbed a little sundress. It was the right amount of casual, feminine flirty, maybe even a little sex appeal, she could come up with.

  She didn’t know why she was stressing so much over sharing a pizza with a neighbor.

  She hadn’t had a date in longer than she could remember. And a boyfriend?

  Nah, years.

  Why did the thought of a boyfriend just pop into her head?

  She didn’t have time for men. She didn’t want to tie herself down. She didn’t want to be dependent on anyone.

  She didn’t want to be hurt or abandoned.

  That was the real reason. Lock herself up. Stay alone and not worry about being left. Thoughts that always filtered through her brain.

  Didn’t she tell Vin that no one should be alone?

  Wow, talk about contradicting herself.

  No more time for a lecture on the self-awareness she’d just discovered. She finished getting dressed, dried her hair, put the minimal amount of makeup on, then went back to the kitchen to put the final touches on her tart.

  There, no worrying. No stressing. Only a good time with a neighbor.

  A hot sexy neighbor that she was hoping to get her lips on again.

  Far From Basic

  Vin was wandering around his apartment, looking it over for any signs of his life. His past. Anything that he didn’t really want his nosy neighbor to see and question.

  Then why did he ask her over for pizza at seven? Because she was waking up a part of him that had been dormant for way too long. And if he really wanted to get back to who he used to be, then this was a start.

  Nothing needed to come out of it. Nothing more than some friendly conversation.

  And maybe a few more lip locks. Because hey, she tasted mighty fine.

  Would she show up? He hadn’t really asked her. He hadn’t done much more than throw a handwritten piece of paper in her box. Not really romantic on his part.

  Wait. Who said anything about romance? It was dinner with his neighbor. Nothing else.

  There was a knock at his door at exactly seven. That surprised him. He kind of expected her to be early.

  He opened the door and saw her standing there in a pretty little blue dress. Not really fancy, more like something a woman threw on to run errands. She was barefoot, so that made it even more laid back. She sure did have some pretty feet though, especially with the blue nail polish on her toes.

  Pushing the door open wider, he held his hand out, “Come on in.” He eyed the plate in her hand. Some kind of chocolate dessert with raspberries and cream on top. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

  “Everyone loves dessert. Besides, you’re providing dinner, so the least I could do is dessert. I’m better at baking then cooking.”

  “I’m not cooking dinner,” he said, grinning at her.

  “Can you cook?” she asked.

  “I can. Average guy stuff. Meat, pasta, and a potato in the microwave. Nothing gourmet. I’d rather grill but can work an oven just fine when I need to. How about you?”

  “About the same. I just don’t really enjoy it. Sweets are more fun. More creative for me. Most of the time, I throw together something quick like a salad with a piece of grilled meat on it.”

  He nodded, then followed her into his apartment. Yeah, she was looking around like the curious person he was coming to expect. There wasn’t much for her to see, though. “Pretty bare in here.”

  “It’s easier that way.”

  “Where’s dinner?” she asked, after she opened his fridge and placed the dessert in there. Like she was making herself at home and surprisingly, he was okay with that.

  “Should be here any minute. I wasn’t sure what you liked. I got one pizza loaded with pepperoni and sausage, another plain.”

  “No veggie one for me?” she asked, tilting her head.

  “I didn’t think you’d eat more than a slice or two, so unless you wanted to bring it home with you afterward, it’d go in the trash. I’l
l eat the others leftover.”

  She laughed and patted his hand. “I like my pizza loaded with fattening stuff, but will eat it any way I get it. I’m just teasing you.”

  He couldn’t remember the last time a woman teased him, or that he looked forward to more of it. “Good to know.”

  They were saved by the second knock on his door, so he answered it and came back to find her sitting at his kitchen counter on a stool, a bottle of water in her hand. Making herself at home again.

  He set the pizzas down, pulled out plates, and got himself a beer. “Just water?” he asked as she helped herself to the meat-topped pie. He moved the plain over to another counter and out of the way for now.

  “I’m not much of an alcohol drinker. Maybe wine now and again, but that’s about it. I’m a pretty basic girl.”

  “I’d say you are far from basic,” he said, taking a bite of his own pizza.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling and biting her own slice. They both chewed in silence for a second. “Since I know you’re trying to figure out what to say and why I’m even here, I’ll just start talking. Maybe that will make you feel better.”

  She’d figured him out too well, and there was no use denying it. He nodded his head. “Go ahead.”

  “So you’re wondering why I’m here, even though you’re the one that asked me. Or rather, left me the note. Would you be surprised to know that I’m wondering the same thing, and have kind of spun my own theory in my head?”

  “Not at all. What’s your theory?”

  “That you’re lonely deep down. That you don’t want to admit it, so you’re finding another way around it. That you’re worried about me and that silly thing that happened the other day.”

  “What silly thing is that?” he asked, starting to feel a bit unnerved. She was smarter than he gave her credit for. More street smart than he first assumed, and not so much the ditsy baking wacko he’d originally thought.

  “When I came back from running and thought I was being watched,” she said, waving her hand.

  He didn’t bother to correct her. He didn’t find it silly and didn’t think she did either, but wasn’t in the mood to change the subject and pressure her right now. “I don’t know that I’m as lonely as you think. I told you I’ve got family.”

  “But none around here. I haven’t seen you with any friends either. No one that has visited you, but me?” she asked.

  “Do you spy on me?” he asked.

  “I think everyone spies on someone at some point in their life. Curiosity,” she said, winking at him. “Not stalker-like. I mean, if I were a stalker, then it wouldn’t have taken me so long to find out about you.”

  “But you’ve asked around,” he said, not surprised in the least.

  “Of course I have. Have you asked around about me?”

  “No,” he said, laughing when she frowned. He wasn’t going to admit he looked into her background. That might fall under the stalker category and there was no need to scare her. He was only watching out for her. Trying to protect her. Not stalking.

  “Okay. Let’s change the subject before my feelings get hurt.”

  “Can your feelings get hurt?” he asked.

  “Everyone’s can. If not, then they aren’t human.”

  “Or they’ve shut themselves off from it,” he said before he could stop himself.

  “Nah. You’re trying to do that but you haven’t completely. Or you have, and are ready to open back up.”

  The tingling in his stomach had nothing to do with her words and everything to do with the guilt he was feeling. That she was right and he’d been blocking everyone out of his life for years, and realized he was punishing himself more than them. That he wasn’t the first commander to lose one of the men under him and not the first to run away, either.

  Time to man up. Time to face his demons. Time to start living again and accept he was what she said. Human. And humans aren’t perfect. He’d been far from perfect the past year.

  “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “Because I’m sitting here having pizza with you. And not only that, but you shaved. And combed your hair.”

  He should have figured she’d notice. He didn’t do much more than trim his facial hair up. He liked having it right now. And all he did was take a shower before she showed up, then ran his fingers through his short hair. He didn’t really comb it, but let her think that.

  “You put a dress on,” he pointed out.

  “I did. I stressed longer than I thought I would on what to wear, and then realized it was crazy. We’re just neighbors sharing dinner.”

  “Is that what it is?” he asked, staring at her. Waiting to see her thoughts on this. On what she wanted this to be, if anything.

  “Is that what you want?’ she asked instead.

  “I want a lot of things.” And that was as much as he was admitting to. She may have hit the nail on the head with her assessment of him, but he wasn’t opening up much more.

  “Don’t we all.” Damn, she was good. He was totally not expecting her fast wit. He wasn’t often surprised like this and had thought he’d judged her well. He guessed not.

  “Let’s talk more about ourselves. Want me to start?”

  He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say but would just play it by ear. “Sure.”

  “I’m an only child. Grew up in the foster care system. Lived in this area my whole life or thereabouts. Turned eighteen and moved out on my own once I got a job and had enough money saved up.”

  “Have you always been a baker?”

  “See, you can carry on a conversation. Yay,” she said, clapping her hands. He only snorted. “Yes. I spent my last two years of high school getting vocational training in the culinary arts. So I can cook, but it’s not what I enjoy, like I said. I’ll let you in on a little secret. Growing up in foster care, you don’t know what you’re going to get. Where you’re going to end up. Things like desserts and fancy meals aren’t enjoyed very often. Matter of fact, they are far down on the list of things you even hope for.”

  “So that’s why you were drawn to desserts?” Made sense now that he thought about it.

  “Yes and no. I just wanted to learn to cook. I wanted a trade. I wasn’t much on schooling. I got by, and that was good enough, but I was smart enough to know it wasn’t going to be a long-term, or even a short-term thing for me. I wanted to work with my hands.” She stopped talking and grabbed a second slice of pizza. He liked that she wasn’t dainty about eating and he grabbed his own second slice. “Anyway. My last foster family, Chris—the dad of the house—he liked sweets. I’ve never had a father. I don’t even know the name of the guy that fathered me. I remember my mother, but just in bits and pieces. I guess I spun up a father figure in my head as a kid. Chris was the closest one to fit the mold and he had a sweet tooth. I liked to please him.”

  He was trying not to think of her as a kid. No family. No father in her life at all. A mother that either didn’t want her or couldn’t handle being a mother, from what he’d seen. A junkie and whore at the best of times. Piper was better off not knowing them. Growing up, he never came in contact with anyone close to her circumstances.

  “I’m sure he enjoyed everything you did.”

  “He did. So did Jane, his wife, and Skip and Michele, their kids. The kids were out of the house by time I came along. Nice couple. Nice family. I guess it would have been a nice place to grow up if I’d had the choice. I’m lucky it was the last experience I got in the foster care system. It gives me hope that it’s improving, but deep down I know things and kids fall through the cracks.”

  She was talking like it wasn’t that much of a big deal, but he had a feeling it was and she was holding back. “It’s nice to know your last experience was a good one.”

  Something he couldn’t say about his life in the army.

  “So why Vin? Why not Vincent?”

  Guess it was time to ask about him. “Vincent is an old man’s name.”

  She gig
gled and he saw the side of her that he’d first thought of. Fun and playful, even somewhat of an airhead. It was nice knowing she was a little harder to read. Not so superficial like he thought. A challenge maybe, and in a good way. She had secrets or wounds like him, but didn’t want the world to know.

  “Were you named after someone?”

  She was going to dig, so he might as well give her just enough to appease her. “My grandfather. My mother’s father. I prefer Vin.”

  “Much more manly. Like Vin Diesel. But you’ve got hair and are taller and built a lot nicer.”

  Yeah, things might be going in the direction he was hoping for by the look in her eyes.

  Vincent Culter, oil tycoon of Midland, Texas, was nothing like Vin Diesel. He wanted his grandson—the only grandson—to take over the corporate empire. It wasn’t in the plans for Vin back then. Maybe someday, but right now, he just needed to take one step at a time.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Tell me a little about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

  “Texas.” That was all he was saying right now. He liked that no one could trace him back to the money he came from. He liked that he’d followed in his father’s footsteps and served his country. Though, even his father only served a few years. Once Vin was born, then his three sisters, his father started to work for his grandfather. His sisters didn’t work at all. They were what many called privileged. They liked being pampered and they liked not having to lift a finger for anything.

  Were they nice people? Sure. But only one of his sisters was married, and her husband was an attorney—for the family empire. The other two were out having too much fun right now. They’d all gone to college, but he doubted they’d actually work in their lifetime.

  “No accent,” she said. “I would have never guessed.”

  He got rid of the accent a long time ago. “I haven’t been in Texas for years.”

 

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