I'd barely gotten out the words when lightning flashed, followed by the quick crash of thunder. With Chucky wriggling in my arms, I made for the back door, dodging Brittney and Amber as I ducked inside, leaving them to shut the door and follow.
I set Chucky down on the kitchen floor. He looked around, shook off the water, and took off like a rocket, heading to who-knows-where.
I glanced out the patio window. By now, it was raining buckets. I turned to face the girls. "How about that rain check?"
Brittney's gaze narrowed. "A rain check? What do you mean?"
Amber looked outside. "Well, it is raining."
Brittney whirled to face her. "That's not what a rain-check means."
Amber rolled her eyes. "I know. But I'm just saying. It's raining. You know. It's kind of funny, isn't it?"
"Hilarious," Brittney said. She turned to give me another look. "What happened to the steaks?"
I was tired of the attitude. "Does it matter?"
Amber spoke up. "I know what happened. The dog ate them. Am I right?"
"That wasn't a dog," Brittney said. "It was a mutt. I can tell the difference." She threw back her shoulders. "My mom–"
"Yeah," I said. "I know. She's a banker."
Brittney's mouth tightened. "That's not what I was going to say."
Again, Amber spoke up. "Was I right? Did the dog –" She glanced at Brittney. "– I mean the mutt. Did he eat them?"
I shrugged. "Eh, hard to say."
"What does that mean?" Brittney asked. "Are all the steaks gone?" She strode to the nearest window and looked outside. She paused. "Do you smell that?"
"Smell what?" I asked.
She turned around to face me. "Something's burning."
I knew what was burning. The clock. I turned to Amber. "Sorry to bail, but I've gotta take the dog back. You know the way out, right?"
Amber bit her lip. She said nothing, and her silence said it all. They'd dressed up. They'd come all the way out here. They'd brought me a house-warming gift – some crystal wine-stopper that looked expensive as hell.
Amber's voice was very quiet. "Are you kicking us out?"
I wanted to. If it were just Brittney, it would be easy. But Amber, at least, deserved better than to be kicked to the curb just because I was dying to see another girl.
Damn it. "No," I finally said.
Amber gave me a shaky smile. "I knew you weren't." She turned to Brittney. "See?"
I reached into my pocket for my car keys. "But I've got to take the dog back."
Amber looked around. "Where'd he go, anyway?" She looked somewhere past me, and her face brightened. "Oh. There he is."
I turned to look. Just outside the neighboring room, Chucky skidded around a corner, dragging something behind him.
Brittney gasped. "My purse!"
Already, the dog and purse were long gone. I had to laugh.
Brittney whirled on me. "What's so funny?"
I shrugged. "If I've got to explain it—"
With a sound of annoyance, Brittney plowed past me, ready to chase after him.
I caught her elbow. "Hang on. I'll get it."
She glanced down at my hand. Her lips curved into a slow smile. "For me? Really?"
"No." I released the elbow. "For the dog."
I wasn't kidding. I didn't want her hurting him. Whatever she said in response, I had no idea. I was on a mission. Find the dog, get him into my car, and steal whatever time I could with Chloe.
Ten minutes. That's all I needed. I'd ask her out. Not for tonight. For some other time – a time when Brittney and Amber were long gone, a time when Chloe and I could talk, really talk.
Striding through my house, I felt myself smile. Soon, I'd be on her doorstep with an easy excuse – a little dog called Chucky.
But first, I needed to find him.
I'd been looking for less than five minutes when Amber squealed out, "Lawton!"
I was upstairs, checking under a bed in one of my guest rooms. I called across the distance. "Yeah?"
She hollered up, "I think your grill's on fire!"
Chapter 10
Amber was right. More or less. It wasn't the grill. It was the final steak. I stood barefoot in the rain, looking down at the thing – now, more charcoal than meat. In good news, the fire hadn't spread.
I had the raging downpour to thank for that.
I didn't care. Screw the grill. I was burning time. I switched off the gas, grabbed the metal spatula, and slammed the grill shut again, leaving the steak to smolder itself out. Or not. Whatever.
Striding toward the back door, I heard something that made me stop. It was Chloe. She was calling out from someplace nearby. I stood and listened.
Through the downpour, I heard her voice again. "I'm looking for my dog!"
I turned and looked through the trees. I saw no sign of her.
Where was she? At my place? I glanced toward the patio door. Brittney and Amber were still inside. The dog was still missing. I was barefoot, shirtless and soaking wet.
Yeah. The timing could be better.
I heard Chloe's voice again, louder now. "Hey!!! Chucky! Where are you? Anyone there?"
I tensed. Oh, shit. She was the front gate. I sprinted through the patio door and dove for the intercom. "Yeah?"
Chloe's voice carried through the speakers. "I'm looking for my dog!" She paused. "Is he here?"
I sure as hell hoped so.
I hit the talk button. "Come on up," I said while flipping the switch to open the gate. I looked around. Should I dry off, maybe change my clothes, or–?
"Who was that?" Brittney asked.
Oh yeah. Brittney.
Damn it.
She and Amber were standing just inside my kitchen, looking more alike than ever in their twin black dresses and matching frowns.
The last thing I needed was a scene. Not with Chloe here.
"It's just the neighbor," I told them, yanking open a kitchen drawer. With my free hand, I pulled out a clean dish-towel and dried myself off the best I could. "She's here for the dog."
"I just bet," Brittney muttered.
I tossed the towel onto the counter. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Brittney smiled. "Oh, we wouldn’t dream of it. We'd just love to meet your neighbor." She looked toward Amber. "Wouldn’t we?"
Amber was still frowning. But she nodded anyway.
What the hell could I do? Nothing, unless I wanted to look like a dick in front of Chloe. So, with a muttered curse, I turned away, heading toward the front door. A few seconds later, I was yanking it open.
And there she was. She wore a grey hoodie, pulled low over her face, along with tiny black shorts and white tennis shoes. No socks.
My porch was covered to keep out the rain. Still, there she stood, dripping wet.
She'd walked here?
Shit.
This was my fault.
I wanted to say something. But the words didn't come, because just then, she looked up. I swallowed. Those eyes.
I wanted to get lost in them.
I was lost in them.
My breath caught.
Chloe.
Chapter 11
She stared up at me, and the years faded away. Her eyes lit with something. I didn't know what. Recognition? Or something else?
I wanted to drag her into the house, dry her off, and make her tell me everything. Who was she? Where had she been all this time? Was she seeing anyone?
I stopped myself just in time. Two girls were already here. No decent girl would like to be the third. So against every urge, I waited, letting Chloe speak first.
Tell me that you know me. Tell me that you remember. Tell me that you looked for me, too.
With a nervous smile, she finally said, "I'm looking for my dog. Uh, Chucky. A little terrier?"
I froze.
She didn't know me. Even now.
Looking down at her, my mind went a million miles a minute. Back then, I had no tattoos, only the
fresh cigarette burns that I'd since covered with ink. I had no money, just the raw desperation to keep my family safe. I had no future, just the dangerous prospect of getting through each day.
Back then, I had nothing to offer a girl like this.
But now, I did.
And just like that, I had a Plan B. I'd start fresh and take it from there. Forget the bleeding guy on the sidewalk. I wasn't him anymore. I was someone new.
It was true that she knew my reputation. And yeah, most of it was bad. But she hadn't seen the other side.
I could show her.
And someday, when she finally put two and two together, we'd laugh about it. And if she never made the connection? I paused. Well, then, someday, I'd tell her. But only after she was mine for good.
But for now, I'd have to play it smooth, pretend she's just another girl.
Even if she wasn't.
I smiled down at her. "Chucky? Like the possessed doll?"
Her forehead wrinkled. "Huh?"
"It's a movie. A bunch of them, actually."
She looked distracted. "I don’t watch a lot of movies."
I shrugged. "Probably not missing much."
"And besides," she said, "it's Chucky like –" She hesitated. "Like my uncle." She glanced past me. "Um, so is he here?"
She looked so adorable that I had to smile. "Your uncle?"
"No," she said, speaking very slowly now. "Chucky, my dog."
Oh yeah. The dog. It suddenly hit me that I was being a total dick. Playing stupid games while she froze on my porch. "Yeah. He's here." I stepped aside and flicked my head toward the inside of the house. "Come on in."
"Thank you," she muttered, following me inside. As she moved forward, her shoes made a squishing sound on the marble floor. It was cute as hell, just like everything else about her.
Stopping in the entryway, she pushed the hood all the way off her head. Her hair was dripping wet and longer than I remembered. She shoved a soggy strand from her forehead, and stopped, frozen in mid-motion, as something over my shoulder caught her eye.
Behind me, I heard Amber say, "Your mutt ate our dinner."
Damn it.
"And," Brittney said, "chewed up my purse."
I turned to see both girls leaning against the open staircase. In their skin-tight black dresses and matching hair and makeup, they could pass for high-end escorts. I could practically see it, some messed up sister-act. Except they looked too pissed off to be professionals.
I felt my jaw tighten. They weren't the only ones getting pissed off. If they didn't play nice, they'd be playing somewhere else.
I gave them a warning look before turning back to Chloe.
Her eyes were still on the girls. Her hand dropped, and she shifted in her squishy shoes. She looked suddenly embarrassed.
Watching, it was easy to see the problem. They were dry. She wasn't. They were dressed up. She wasn't. They were in full makeup. She wasn't.
But so what? Standing there, soaked, in my entryway, Chloe was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I wanted to tell her. Hell, I wanted to show her. But against every urge, I kept my mouth shut and hands to myself.
No matter how this played out, I was not going to scare her. I glanced down at my chest, still wet, and covered in tattoos. Probably too late for that. But hey, I had time.
I'd make time.
Of course, things would be a lot easier if the girls hadn't just insulted Chloe's dog.
In front of me, Chloe lifted her chin toward Brittney and Amber. "He's no mutt," Chloe told them. "He's a purebred Yorkie. He has papers if you'd like to see them." She smiled. "Assuming you can read?"
I laughed and didn't bother to hide it.
Already, I swear, I loved that girl.
"Hey!" Brittney sputtered. "I can read just fine."
"Me too," Amber said. "I read all the time." She straightened. "And not just Facebook either."
I glanced at Chloe. The way it looked, she'd already tuned them out. Catching my eye, she pointed in the general direction of her own house. "We share a fence."
It wasn't the only thing I wanted to share. "I know," I said.
She glanced around the entryway. "You have my dog?"
I smiled down at her. "I'm pretty sure your dog had me first."
Behind me, Amber spoke again. "Yeah. He chewed up Lawton's shirt."
Screw the shirt.
"Forget it," I told Chloe. "Not a big deal."
Chloe's gaze dipped to my chest. She paused, as if taking in the tattoos, the muscles, and everything else. Her lips parted, and her eyes didn't move.
I knew that look. She liked what she saw. And it scared the hell out of her. I'd seen the look before, but never on her. Something about it made it hard for me to breathe.
She swallowed and looked up. "So, you were actually wearing a shirt?"
Working hard to keep my distance, I gave a casual shrug. "Hey, it happens."
Chloe gave a quick shake of her head. "Sorry," she said, sounding like she meant it. "Rain makes me crabby." She cleared her throat. "I apologize. For Chucky. And the shirt. And um, for my big mouth."
She had a nice mouth. Her lips looked soft and full. It was my turn to swallow.
"Of course," she continued, "it's none of my business what you wear, or don't wear around your own house." She gave a shaky laugh. "I mean, you could go naked, and it'd be no one's business, right?"
Naked. It was a dangerous word at a time like this. Her clothes were thin and soaking wet. They clung to her curves in ways that could drive a guy insane. I felt a slow smile spread across my face. "Yeah?" I said. "Good to know."
A hint of pink darkened her cheeks. "So, uh, I'd better get going."
No. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Behind me, Brittney said, "But what about my purse?"
I felt the muscles in my neck tighten. Screw the purse. Screw Brittney. I frowned. I hadn't screwed her. And I wouldn’t. There was a reason I'd moved out here to the suburbs, and it wasn't to bring my old scene to my new place.
Girls like Brittney? I'd had my share. They were forgettable, hell, interchangeable. Rude or not, it was time to remind her of that fact. I turned to give her a warning look. "Zip it, Bethany."
She frowned. "It's Brittney."
Yeah, I knew. I just didn't care. "Whatever."
Suddenly, Chucky bounded into the entryway, sliding across the marble floor. When he saw Chloe, he gave a loud yip and dove straight for her legs. He slammed into her like he couldn't get close enough, fast enough.
Yeah. Me, too.
Laughing as she staggered backward, Chloe reached down to ruffle his fur. Through the laughter, she choked out, "Bad dog."
Behind me, Brittney made a sound of irritation. "But the purse," she whined. "It was a Louis Vuitton."
I didn't care about the purse. Or Brittney. I turned to give her a shrug. "If you so say so."
When I turned back to Chloe, her smile was gone. For a split second, she looked almost afraid. Why?
I glanced down at Chucky, now lying across Chloe's shoes. I saw no sign of Brittney's purse. Maybe the dog ate the thing and shit it out already. It would serve Brittney right.
I felt my eyebrows furrow. But that wouldn’t be good for the dog, would it? I gave him a good long look. He looked okay. As for Chloe, I wasn't so sure. She was eyeing Chucky with obvious concern.
Again, Brittney's voice sliced out, "You're gonna have to pay for it, you know."
Fine. Whatever. I'd give her the cash later. Not a big deal. I turned to tell her so, anything to make her shut up. But she wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Chloe.
I felt my fingers tighten. Brittney wanted Chloe to pay for it? No. That wasn't gonna happen.
Brittney's voice rose. "It was a Louis Vuitton," she repeated.
"Your ass," I told her. "It was a knock-off, and you know it."
Her mouth fell open. She gave Amber a quick sideways glance before saying, "Well, it wasn't a cheap knock-off. Sh
e's still gonna have to pay."
My hands were fisted now. I wanted to make someone pay. Brittney. Thunderstorm or not, I wanted to toss her bitchy ass out the front door, and slam it shut behind her.
If only Brittney were a guy. She'd have that damn purse shoved so far up her ass, she'd need to open her mouth make change. But she wasn't a guy. So with an effort, I relaxed my fingers. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.
Determined to make this go away, I peeled off a few hundreds and held them out toward Brittney. She eyed the money. The corners of her mouth lifted, and she sidled closer. A second later, she snatched the bills out of my hand and stuffed them into her cleavage.
Great. Because nothing says classy like shoving a wad of cash between your tits.
All smiles now, Brittney leaned into me like she was my number-one girl. She turned to Chloe and said, "You're lucky he's such a gentleman."
Chloe stiffened. Her gaze slid to me, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I was no gentleman.
It was true. I wasn't. But I'd still be good to her if she gave me the chance.
Chloe turned her attention to Brittney. She gave Brittney a stiff smile. And then, in a crisp, country-club voice, Chloe said, "Yes. He's very kind."
Something about it was off. For some reason, it didn't sound like her. Or at least, it didn’t sound like the girl I remembered.
I was still trying to make sense of it when Chloe turned to me and said, "If you'd like to send me a bill, I'll make sure you're promptly reimbursed." She glanced away. "I'd just need a receipt, uh, for my records."
No way I'd let Chloe pay for this.
"Nah, I've got it," I told her. I flicked my gaze to Brittney. "Besides, that'll show Barbie for leaving her purse on the floor."
Brittney made a small huffing sound. "It's Brittney," she corrected for the second time.
So what? Brittney meant nothing to me. Less than nothing, actually. And if messing up her name was the only way to get that across, hey, whatever. Right now, only one thing mattered – letting Chloe know that Brittney and I were not an item.
I had to see Chloe again. Without an audience. I looked to Chloe and said, "How about a compromise? You replace dinner, and I'll worry about Becky's purse."
Behind me, I heard Amber's voice, sounding more like a sex kitten than a friend. "Forget dinner," she purred. "Let's get straight to dessert."
Lawton Page 4