But was being caught and kissed really such a bad thing? I didn’t know if I could consider that losing. I’d been thinking about those lips of his since he walked into the shop, and maybe a taste would help take the edge off…
Reaching the centre, I went straight for the cubby and climbed the side, hoping there’d be a map or at least enough height to plot a new course.
“I thought you were never going to get here,” Abbot quipped from his position on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him. He seemed to always be waiting to pounce. How the hell did he get here so fast?
“You were supposed to catch me,” I said, taking a seat on the ground next to him. “This looks a lot like waiting.”
“I’ve been chasing you for days. Thought it might help to change things up a bit.”
I smiled, suddenly nervous as I took a deep breath and looked at his mouth, waiting.
Instead of moving closer, he spoke. “Did you ever kiss Toby?”
I frowned before shaking my head. “Never.” I hoped my admission wasn’t going to become a problem for us. In a way, it would work in my favour if it did. But then it wouldn’t be as fun. And I was having so much fun hanging out with Abbot.
“Did you ever kiss any of my brothers?”
“No.” They’d either heeded Toby’s warning or had never considered me in that way. While I was glad for that now, I hadn’t been so happy about it in my youth. There were only so many bonfires you could attend where everyone hooked up but you. The cute girls got the guys, and I got to wait around or walk home by myself. In the end I quit attending.
“I know Kris and I were the annoying little kids growing up, but I’ve gotta tell you, I had a serious crush on this redhead chick for years. I thought she was so badarse and fearless. I always wanted her to think I was badarse and fearless too.”
His hand closed around mine, lacing our fingers together. I closed my eyes at the intimacy of the simple touch. “Is that what this is, Abbot?” I looked up and searched his eyes. “Are you just living out your adolescent crush?”
“Maybe,” he whispered, moving closer.
I appreciated his honesty. He wasn’t calling this any more than it was. I was a conquest. A notch that never was.
Lifting my hand, I placed it against his face, blocking his mouth before it could reach mine. This is just a game, I reminded myself. One that I agreed to. I needed to keep that in the forefront of my mind so I could guard my heart and keep my emotions in check. A game about sex and money.
“You didn’t catch me,” I said, taking some power back as I got to my feet. “I found you. The kiss doesn’t happen.”
Nodding slowly, he watched me the way a tiger would watch a lamb. “Then I suggest you run, Sloane Slater. Because I won’t give you a head start this time.”
“OK. But if I win. I get to drive the Jag back to Torquay.”
He moved, about to stand. “Deal,” he said. Then I turned, jumped off the cubby, then sprinted away as fast as my legs could carry me.
I got five turns before I hit a dead end and needed to double back, my heart thumping in my ears as I tried to stay in the lead.
Two more turns, a straight shot then a choice of left or right. I chose right, took two steps then hit a giant wall of man.
“Caught,” Abbot said, his hands gripping my waist before wrapping around me as he claimed his prize.
My mouth.
Ohhh.
Never had I been kissed with such dominance and strength. This was why a girl was referred to as a flower, because I literally bloomed beneath his skilled mouth, craning my neck as though he was the sun and I needed his mouth to exist.
His fingers went into my hair and pulled just enough, telling me he wanted more and was struggling not to take it. When we landed against the wall, I knew I was in trouble. Kissing Abbot was too much and too little. It was intense, glorious. And oh God, I wanted more. I’ve made a terrible mistake.
As his mouth dominated mine, I finally understood why he thought he was irresistible. Because he actually was. All I wanted to do was tear the clothes from both of our bodies and let him do whatever he wanted with me. I was losing control.
Stop.
“Stop,” I gasped. “Stop, Stop, stop.” I didn’t want to, and when he responded immediately by dropping his forehead against mine, I felt disappointment in my chest.
“Stop,” I said again, placing my hands against his chest. The word was more for me than him. “Stop.”
He moved away, and I was suddenly very cold.
How the hell did he learn to kiss like that? This player definitely had game. I didn’t even trust myself to stand after that, leaning against the wall to remain upright.
“OK,” I said, my voice a little breathy. “I guess, um, we should find the exit and get back to work.”
“Work?” Abbot shook his head, a laugh that didn’t sound amused coming out of his chest. “That’s your first thought?” My first thought was, I wonder what else he can do with that tongue, but that wouldn’t make me half a mill while work would. Work was a distraction. A necessary one.
“It’s why I’m here, Abbot.”
He lifted a hand like he wanted me to wait then walked a few paces away from me, hands on his hips as he took a moment.
Is he pissed at me for ending the kiss?
I straightened up and placed my hands on my hips, annoyed that he was reacting like a child who didn’t get everything he wanted for Christmas. “You can’t honestly think I’m going to fuck you in the middle of a maze, Abbot. The prize was a kiss. That’s what you got. Deal with it.”
Turning around, he looked at me like I had two heads. I was obviously missing something, because his reaction made no sense. Running his hand back and forth over his hair, he let out a huff of air. “Let’s just go, OK?”
“Are we cool?”
“Of course we are, Slater. We’re ice cool.” I had no idea what that even meant. But I wasn’t going to stand still while thinking about it. My entire body was still on fire after that kiss. I was likely to throw myself at him and beg him to do everything I just told him I wouldn’t do. I needed to keep moving, treat this like a triathlon. It was the only way I’d win.
Chapter Thirteen
Rogue
Maybe Abbot was right all along. Anything physical between friends did change things. A simple kiss—no, not simple, a crazy passionate, all-consuming kiss—had turned our playfulness awkward. I already missed what we were.
“This isn’t the warehouse,” I said when he pulled up outside a mall.
“You need to buy something to wear for the rehearsal dinner. Jasmine’s orders.”
“Jasmine’s orders?” Why did that fill me with dread?
“Her exact words were: no overalls and no ill-fitting jeans or shirts.”
“She’s dictating my clothing choices? No offence, but she’s not my mother. My mother doesn’t give a fuck about my clothing choices just so long as I’m nowhere near her when I’m making them,” I snapped, getting out of the car and slamming the door. Fuck these people. I was acting like a petulant teenager all of a sudden, a slave to my raging hormones while lamenting my lot in life. Screw them for taking me back to this feeling.
“Sloane.” Abbot’s deep voice boomed behind me as I entered the air-conditioned mall.
“I’m not ashamed of who I am, or how I look, Abbot,” I said, stepping into the first store there was and riffling through the clothes. “I know how people see me. I’m not stupid enough to think I fit in. But if you, for one second think you can change me, maybe like me better if I dressed up and put on some make-up, then you’re sorely mistaken. This is me. It’s who I am and who I’ve always been, and I’m not changing a fucking thing for—”
I didn’t finish my sentence—couldn’t—because Abbot’s mouth collided with mine and swallowed my words while dousing my anger, rendering me powerless against that skilful mouth of his. Wow.
With his hands on either side of my face, I
whimpered while his tongue very kindly forced me to shut up.
“I don’t want you to change,” he whispered when he was through, and I was basically jelly in his hands. “I was relaying a message, and I did it in a really shitty way.”
“You can tell your mother to stick that message up her arse.”
He laughed, still holding my head to his. “OK.” His fingers played in the back of my hair, like he wanted to pull me closer. “Did you know you were looking at kid’s clothes?”
“What?” I turned my head and looked around, noting the bright red branding of Cotton On Kids. “Oh.”
He chuckled as I pulled out of his grip and left the store, staying a step ahead of him in an effort to get my head to clear after the latest bout of lust and anger.
“I’m not going to that dinner, by the way,” I said over my shoulder, slowing down so he could catch up.
“She won’t let you stay at the house alone. You have to come.”
“Am I untrustworthy all of a sudden?”
“Don’t take offence. Jasmine doesn’t trust anyone outside the family.”
Outside the family.
That really hit the nail on the head.
“Fine, I’ll go. But I’m wearing a suit.”
“A suit?” The dimple teased the side of his face.
“No overalls or ill-fitting jeans. I think a suit will fit that bill, don’t you?”
He grinned. “Let’s go get you a suit.”
* * *
With order restored between us, we left the mall eating ice creams with matching suits, shirts and shoes in bags slung over our shoulders. Getting two of everything had been the most fun I’d ever had shopping. I’d never gotten into the whole retail therapy thing, but the looks on the sales people’s faces had been fantastic. They’d obviously never matched up a couple quite like us before. Not that we were a couple. Just that we were two people and two was a couple. The kiss—kisses—hadn’t changed anything. We remained friends only.
Or, so I kept telling myself.
“Why do you still live with Jasmine?” I asked once we were clicked into the Jag and heading back to Torquay.
“I don’t. I’m just staying there at the moment because it’s weird living with Kris.”
“Oh. You were sharing a house?”
“Up until recently.”
“Were you kicked out when Ronnie moved in?”
“Nah. I left ’cause I didn’t wanna hear them fucking all the time.”
“I can see how that would become a problem.”
“Don’t get me wrong. Ronnie is cool, and she makes him happy.”
“But you were happier when it was just you and Kristian?”
He scrunched up his nose. “Does that make me a cunt if I say yes?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, you guys shared a womb. You’re as close as siblings can get. It makes sense that you’re missing him when you’ve always been a part of him. In a non-gay way, of course,” I teased.
He laughed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
I sighed. “Seinfeld was the best. Why is it that everything you grow to love, to count on, ends up going away?”
“Loss is a part of life.”
We fell silent for a moment, jumbled thoughts tumbling through my mind and most likely his too. Life was pretty messed up.
“Listen,” he said as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I shouldn’t have told Jasmine you were gay.”
I brushed his comment off with a wave of my hand. “Forget it. It’s not like it’s the first time people have thought that about me. I’m not very feminine and I’ve never been married. They assume.”
“You are feminine.”
I rolled my eyes then smiled. “You’re sweet.” Not that I believed it. The only feminine thing about me was my sex.
“Don’t tell anyone.” He glanced at me before turning his attention back to the road.
“So”—I turned a little in my seat so I was facing him—“were you actually serious when you said you did that to protect me?”
“Yeah,” he said straight away. “My family…” He took a deep breath and released it with a heavy sigh. “Your grandad was right to steer you away. You really shouldn’t get close to us.”
“And yet you brought me here and you’re making sport out of getting me into bed.”
“Never said I was a nice guy, Sloane. I’m a selfish cunt who never apologises.”
I looked out the window. “You and every man I’ve ever dated.”
“What’s the deal with you and that Mark guy, anyway? I’ve seen you text him a few times this week. What is he doing? Keeping you strung along for a side bit in case he feels like it?” Ha! Fat chance if that’s what he wanted. There was no way I’d be the woman he cheated on his wife with.
“It’s not like that. We’re friends. He doesn’t know how not to have me in his life.” Which was where I was stuck too.
“How’s that working for you?”
I shrugged. “It’s OK. I mean, we were together for years. And we were friends before that. Our lives are completely blended, so if one of us walks away, they’d have to start all over.” Mark and I met in high school and had been best friends right up to our twenties when we became something more. Twenty-five years of friendship was difficult to say goodbye to, even if we didn’t work out as a couple.
“Would that be so bad?”
“Starting over?” I took a deep breath, trying to picture having a life anywhere but back home. It was my baseline, where I guess I belonged. “I don’t think so. I’m comfortable in my life.”
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?” I would have laughed except it wasn’t funny.
“If your life was so awesome, you wouldn’t have been so quick to drive out here with me.”
“Now you’re my saviour?” I shot back.
“I think getaway driver would be more fitting.”
“Jesus. You think you know me so well, don’t you?” When it came down to it, he barely knew me at all. Even if he’d known everything about me in the past, twenty-one years changed a person. I wasn’t an angsty teenage girl anymore.
“Am I wrong?”
He wasn’t. But I wasn’t anywhere close to admitting that to myself. “Maybe I’m just here for the money, Abbot.”
He scoffed. “Bullshit.”
“You keep saying that. But it’s true. There’s no mint. I don’t know what Pop did with it. Maybe he left it to my mother. I have no clue. I just know that his accounts were dry.”
“What about his workshop?”
“There’s no money at the shop.”
“Not the shop, Sloane. The workshop.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The workshop. There’s like, a hundred different safes there that he’d use to keep his skills up. We dropped more than a few off to him ourselves.”
Why don’t I know anything about this place?
“Do you remember where this place is?”
“Shit. You seriously don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”
“I have no fucking clue. I’ve never seen it.”
“Then…as much as I enjoy this thing you and I have going on, then I agree this should be the only job you do with us, Sloane. If you don’t know about the workshop, there’s no way Trev wanted you doing this stuff once he died.” He definitely didn’t want me doing this. But, I did have to wonder if this workshop was part of what Pop had wanted to tell me. There was obviously a lot about his life I didn’t know.
“I overheard Jasmine, Breaker, and Toby talking the other day. They mentioned some other job they need me for after this. Do you know what that is?”
“I’m not sure. Breaker has some big job he needs us to do after Kris’s wedding. It’s probably that, but I don’t know exactly what it is.”
“They said something about a transport.”
He glanced at me quickly, his brow knitted. “A transport? Are you s
ure that’s what they said?”
I nodded. “They said they were going to need someone like me or they wouldn’t be able to unload the transport fast enough.”
He looked ahead for a long moment then shook his head. “That son of a bitch.”
“Do you know what they’re talking about?”
He nodded, still frowning. “Yeah, I think I fucking do.”
* * *
I stood outside throwing a stick for the little Boston terrier who lived at the Cartwright house and never seemed to tire of a game of fetch. They’d been inside arguing for the good part of an hour, and Rogue was still wagging his tail excitedly each time I lifted my arm to throw.
The moment we’d returned to the house, Abbot told me to wait outside while he went and spoke to his mother. He’d been tense ever since I told him about the transport job I’d overheard. And now I seemed to be responsible for a family altercation, which hadn’t been my intention. I needed to remember whom I was speaking to in future. The Cartwrights weren’t normal people.
As I waited obediently, all I could hear was random bouts of yelling. One of which was Abbot saying, “Hitting that drug transport is insanity and you know it.” I had to agree with him on that one. Getting involved with drugs was never a good idea. Everyone knew that.
“Hey.” Toby appeared in the doorway, voices growing louder then quiet as he opened and closed the sliding door. He moved towards me, hands in his pockets. Rip the Band-Aid off, Sloane. When I opened my mouth, it wasn’t quite as easy to talk as it had been with Abbot. There was history here.
“Do you ever dress down?” I asked instead. He had on a blue button-up shirt and grey tailored pants.
“I wear a wetsuit surfing,” he responded with a smile.
“Well, that’s something, I guess.”
“Do you ever dress up?”
“Nope.” I threw the stick and watched Rogue’s little legs lift his black and white body off the ground while he ran for it. “I’m more about comfort than class.”
Fool’s Errand: Cartwright Brothers, Book 4 Page 9