Scenic Route

by D. D. Prince

  “Yeah, well I need some sunshine to warm me up. Cuddle me. Your fault I’m cold.”

  “My fault? Blackmailer.”

  He buried his nose into the crook of my neck. His nose was like ice, too.

  He wrapped me tighter.

  I shivered and let him hold me, but my whole body was frozen and goosebumpy.

  “Why are you so cold when the truck was running?”

  “Heater’s workin’ like shit. Need to fix it.”

  His hands snaked up the back of my shirt to my bare skin and I squealed again so loud that Chakotay barked.

  “Shut up, Chakotay. Lay down!” Spencer ordered.

  Another heavy dog sigh.

  “Holy shit, those hands are cold.”

  “Warm them up,” he said and shoved them into the back of my underwear right on my butt.

  I giggled and tried to pull away. “Stop. That’s cold. You’re like a ‘frigerator.”

  “It’s your fault. So stubborn.” He was trembling, squirming into me, making goosebumps rise everywhere.”

  “You’re stubborn,” I returned.

  “So are you.”

  “Pff. As if.”

  “Quite a pair we make,” he said gruffly and put his lips to mine and grinded into me. He was in his underwear only. His body was absolutely frigid.

  I got lost for a second and let him kiss me, but then I pulled my lips back, dawning that not only was he kissing me, but his hands were still inside my underwear, on my bare bum cheeks. “You can sleep here, but just sleep. That’s all I’m offering. A warm place to sleep. Get yer hands outta my undies. We’re not a pair. I told you casual was all I could manage, and I mean it.”

  “But your sweet ass is so warm.” He tugged on my earlobe with his teeth and jiggled my butt.

  My nipples went from kind of erect to rock-hard.

  I tried to squirm away. “I’m serious. It’s been a rough day and I’m exhausted. It’s after two o’clock in the morning.”

  “Fine. Fuck you in the morning.”

  “You’re not fucking me in the morning. In fact, forget casual. We need to go back to being just friends, Spencer. I can’t handle this. I…”

  “Shh, I’m beat. Go to sleep. We’ll talk about it later.” He rolled to his back, pulling me with him, holding me close and kissing my forehead, which was now on his peck.

  “But Spencer. In my need to keep you from thinking things about us, it’s making me be dumb about safety, so we need to talk this out, and that way I can keep my head on straight, and ---.”

  “Be as dumb as you want. Won’t stop me from keepin’ you safe.”

  “Spen---"

  “Shh, just get me warm. Talk later.”

  “You have to---"

  “Shut up, Pippa, or I’ll kiss you quiet,” he warned, and he didn’t sound like he was joking.

  My heart did a somersault. My mouth was agape. I snapped it shut, shaking my head in exasperation. He adjusted the blankets. He was warming up. Without thinking through what I was doing, I snuggled in, resting my palm on his chest.

  “You shouldn’t tell me to shut up.”

  He sighed.

  “Or Chakotay. Saying shut up is not nice.”

  He started playing with my hair. I was too tired and too comfy (and it felt too good) to tell him to stop.

  And in about a minute, I was asleep.

  ***

  My alarm woke me at 6:30. Surprisingly, I was feeling well-rested.

  I sat up and hit the alarm square on my phone screen. He was wrapped around me, looking f-i-n-e FINE in a pair of royal blue boxer briefs.

  The apartment was warm, and he’d kicked the blankets off, so I got a full view of him with his six pack, his tattoos, and his messy hair and scruffy face. He had insanely long eyelashes for a man.

  I’d noticed his sister and Deacon both had those same nearly black lush lashes. I reached out and touched them with my index finger. And then I snatched my hand back, sucking on my bottom lip.

  He was way too good looking to have a platonic sleepover with. I had to avoid this in the future. Maybe I should just move home with my parents. If I was doing that, he’d settle for parking a prospect outside the house.

  I tried to get out of the bed and that was when he reached for me and rolled, pinning me under him.

  He grinded his crotch against me.

  I squeaked in protest and started tickling him under his armpits. He jumped back, and I sprinted out of the bed and into the bathroom.

  Okay, Spencer Valentine was ticklish. Good to know. Finally, I had a weapon I could use.

  I sat down to have a pee, kind of smiling at my secret knowledge and then my expression dropped. Nope. Don’t stash valuable tidbits of information about him away. Get him back to the friend zone.

  Yes, he had a great body. Yes, he was good (great) in bed. Yes, he was dreamy AF to look at. But, I had to stay focused. I needed time to just be me for a while. Get this Joe trial behind me. Focus on saving money, buying my own place, maybe even hiring a part-time esthetician to help me make more money. I had space in my procedure room for more equipment. Maybe I could split it into two rooms, so I could double up sometimes on appointments, or take time off once in a while and keep the money coming in.

  I opened the door and peeked out. He had his arm thrown over his eyes.

  I headed for the closet. Chakotay followed me in.

  I closed the door and got changed in there while he watched, looking at me with the epitome of puppy dog eyes. Today was Thursday, we were closed Friday right through to Tuesday with the long Easter weekend, so today would be another busy day.

  I had my first appointment at ten o’clock, so I guess I was up sort of early today, considering I had to stay here until I got escorted to work.

  That was okay, though, I’d do a bit of yoga and Pilates. I put on a load of laundry and dressed in yoga clothes, I tiptoed out for a coffee.

  The dog was hopping around excitedly.

  I looked at him curiously. Did Spencer bring dog food?

  He went to the backpack on the floor and nosed at it. It was open, so I squatted and saw a gallon Ziploc of dog food poking out. I grabbed it and took it to the sink and found a pot. I filled it half full and put it down.

  “You need fresh water,” I said and picked up the bowl and changed it.

  I got my coffee.

  He wasn’t eating. He was looking at me and then he was sort of dancing excitedly.

  “Oh. Do you need to go pee? Shoot. Your daddy is sleeping. Where’s your leash?” I spotted it on the coffee table, which was pushed against the wall to make room for the sofa bed. I put it on him and the dancing got even more excited.

  “Okay, eat any bad guys who come near me, okay? Let me get my shoes on.”

  Spencer’s forearm moved away from his face and he gave me a look of annoyance.

  “Oh, you’re up. Can you take him out? I’ll make coffee. You want breakfast?”

  He blinked at me.

  “Course I’m up. You’re havin’ a conversation with my dog. Go lay down, Chakotay.” He flopped back. “What fuckin’ time is it?”

  “Six forty-five. He really has to pee. I’ll take him out.”

  “No. Not by yourself. You not hear anything I said to you?”

  “Um, big dog with me? He’d eat those bad guys, like you said.”

  He sat up and looked like he was trying to get his bearings. He got to his feet and stretched, letting out this primal male sound as he did.

  Um wow. Morning wood. My eyes could go nowhere else, they didn’t even try.

  He rubbed his eyes, caught me looking, which made him give me half a smile, and that made me blush. He yanked his jeans on from the floor beside his bag and reached for the t-shirt that was draped across the end table and put that on.

  “There’s a park just a couple blocks down the side street. Want me to make us to-go coffees? I’ll come, and we can throw a ball for him. I think I saw a tennis ball in the closet. My bro
ther used to have a dog. A little black French bulldog. He died last year. Poor old feller. Hobo. He was absolutely hilarious, he---”

  “Sunshine?” He cut me off.

  “Hm?” I asked, looking to him from the counter where I’d pulled down two to-go mugs.

  “Too much talking for any time before noon, but yet here it is before seven.”

  “Oh, don’t be grumpy.” I waved my hand. He sauntered into the bathroom while I made up his coffee.

  Chakotay was less than patient.

  “Just a minute, boy. Sorry, boy.”

  By the time I got the lid on the second cup, Spencer was out of the bathroom and I was again expressing regrets to the pooch because he was clearly in need of bladder relief, and his human daddy was taking his sweet time.

  “Don’t apologize to the dog. He’s not used to bein’ up this early. He’s takin’ advantage.”

  “No, he isn’t. If you make him wait long past sun-up, it’s cruel. Dogs are early birds.” I patted Chakotay’s head and then passed Spencer a coffee and grabbed mine. While he stood and sipped from the mug, I slipped my shoes on, grabbed the ball, and found some doggy poop bags that Phil still had in the closet and shoved them in my jacket pocket.

  “He doesn’t need to play ball. He needs to go for a piss and a dump and then come back and lay down, so I can sleep for three more hours.”

  “Don’t be silly. Exercise will wake you up. The walk will do you good. By the time we get back, you’ll be ready to seize the day.” I stretched up onto my tiptoes.

  He looked at me like I was nuts.

  “The only way I ain’t sleepin’ when we get back is if it’s cuz I’m burying my cock inside you.”

  I gasped. “Spencer Valentine!”

  “Pippa Griffin.” He gave me a lazy smile.

  “There will be no more talk like that. I told you last night, we are friends. That’s what we are. Let’s get back to that.”

  He put his coffee cup to his lips, but gave me a penetrating gaze… well… it tried to penetrate.

  I launched myself into a firm state of denial about what that expression said.

  I grabbed my keys and he shrugged on his leather Dom jacket and then we left, me holding Chakotay’s leash. I dropped the ball outside by mistake and the adorable dog caught it and carried it in his mouth the whole walk to the park.

  Adorable was putting it mildly. I seriously loved this dog.

  I’d wanted a dog for a while. I loved my brother’s dog and was regularly dog-sitting him. I’d go over to Phil’s sometimes while he was at work just to walk Hobo for him.

  Chakotay was a great dog and he was awesome on the leash.

  When we got to the park, Spencer reached for his collar and unhooked the leash.

  Chakotay went to a fire hydrant and did his thing. When he was done, I tossed the ball again and again, letting him run for it and exert some energy. Finally, the dog squatted and pooped, so I waited and then went over with the bag and picked up the dog poop and put it into the trash bin.

  Spencer was watching me curiously as I did that.

  “We must stoop and scoop the poop,” I said with a smile.

  He shook his head at me, with an eyeroll, but his expression assessing.

  I’d been throwing the ball and playing catch with the dog for no more than ten minutes when Spencer announced, “All right, we’re done. Chakotay! Here.”

  The dog ran right to him. Spencer snapped the leash on him and held onto it and stuffed his evidently empty travel mug half into his pocket, so he could grab my hand with his free hand.

  “Friends don’t hold hands,” I chirped.

  He squeezed my hand and didn’t let go.

  I tugged.

  He still didn’t let go.

  “Spencer?”

  “We’re not just friends, Pip, and you fuckin’ know it, so quit this little bullshit game you’re tryin’ to foist on me this morning.”

  My shoulders dropped. “What?”

  “The fake happy shit. Enough, all right?”

  My expression dropped. “I’m not being fake-happy.”

  “No one is this cheerful in the morning, especially not after four hours of sleep and the shit show of yesterday.”

  I tried to pull my hand back, feeling a burning in my chest.

  He didn’t let go.

  I grunted and pulled hard.

  “I’m not a fake. I just missed my brother’s dog and your dog made me happy. Let me go!”

  He did.

  I folded my arms across my chest, holding my empty mug close as we walked back in silence.

  Just as we got to the parking lot, I heard motorcycles.

  Shit.

  Spencer grabbed my hand again and got me close to him. I didn’t pull away this time.

  The Wyld Jackal with the beard, and I counted seven other Jackals with him, drove down my street, eyes aimed at Spencer.

  Oh shit.

  Were they just driving by or had they planned to stop at my apartment?

  We were back inside, behind a locked door a moment later. I was filling the coffeemaker reservoir with water.

  We hadn’t discussed what we’d just seen. I was still in a snit about him being jerky with me.

  “Plan to pack a bag tonight. You’re comin’ to Sioux Falls tomorrow,” Finally, he spoke to me.

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll be back here with you tonight. I’m droppin’ Chakotay with Ella’s folks for the next two days. Tomorrow morning, we ride to Sioux Falls. You’re on the back of my bike. We’re bringin’ the bus so we can bring Jojo and haul all Brady’s shit back with us when we come home Saturday.”

  “Uh…”

  “You’re not stayin’ here the weekend. We’re all at the mother charter Friday and headin’ back here Saturday. You’re comin’.”

  “I…”

  “You’re coming with me tomorrow, Pippa. Don’t argue with me. You ain’t stayin’ here.” His voice held an edge of exasperated.

  “I could go to---”

  “Your ma is at your aunt’s.”

  “I could go there.”

  “I’d feel more comfortable if you were with me.”

  “Spencer…”

  “Honest to fuck, Sunshine, don’t fight about this with me. You saw that outside?”

  “I saw.”

  “Then you know I mean it when I say you’re comin’.”

  I glared at him a second. He was not going to back down on this. Honestly, I didn’t want to be here, scared. I didn’t want to go to my aunt’s either; I had zero desire to interact with family right now.

  I just didn’t want him thinking we were going to be something. I mean, I told him I wasn’t ready. He had to get to a place of respecting it.

  “Make sure I have my own room,” I snapped.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “And I mean that!” I went into the bathroom, slamming the door.

  I came back out, so I could do some yoga practice and Pilates. He was lying on the bed, awake and looking tired and miserable.

  “Can you get up?” I asked, not looking at his face.

  “Why? You ready to go?” He looked at me suspiciously. I was in yoga clothes, not dressed for work.

  “I need to put the bed away, so I have room for yoga and Pilates.”

  His lips twitched, and he got up.

  I made the bed while he stood, arms crossed, watching me do it. When the blankets and pillows were all in place, I folded the couch in and put it back together.

  I then dragged the coffee table over and fetched my mat from the closet while he went to the fridge and pulled out the orange juice and took a swig from the carton.

  “Can you not?” I grumbled.

  He opened a few cupboard doors before finding the one with the glasses and then he poured a glass, emptying the carton and jiggling the empty carton at me to show me why he’d been drinking directly out of it. Less than half a glass.

  I rolled my eyes and resumed spreading
out my mat.

  He dropped the carton in the garbage can.

  “That’s recyclable,” I snapped.

  He leaned over and pulled it out of the bin and put it on the counter and sauntered over to sit on the couch with his half a glass of orange juice, a big smile on his face.

  “You can watch TV or somethin’,” I muttered.

  “Nope,” he said. “Better show about to happen right here.”

  Whatever.

  “Or you could go home and get more sleep. Send a prospect to bring me to work around nine fifteen.”

  “I’m good,” he sat back and watched.

  I rolled my eyes and kept doing my workout.

  His eyes were on me the whole time. It was messing with my concentration, but I did my best to ignore him.

  He shuffled a few times in his seat. Our eyes met, and he was looking at me with heat.

  I did my handstand pose with split legs, a difficult pose that had taken me years to master, and I did it on purpose. If he wanted an eyeful, he’d get one.

  My phone rang so I carefully moved down to my knees and got up to go fetch my phone.

  He was leaned forward on the couch, his eyes alert. Well, more than alert. Kind of like a stalking animal who was about to pounce on prey.

  I flipped my hair, giving him a snotty look and saw Mom calling on my screen.

  I answered. She was an early riser too and it wasn’t uncommon for us to have early morning conversations.

  He sat and eavesdropped the whole time.

  Of course there was nowhere to go (other than the bathroom), being that this was a bachelor apartment, but he didn’t even attempt to do anything else, like look at his phone or watch television. He just continued to watch me.

  I did my best to ignore him and kept talking to Mom, who was giving me the run down for Easter dinner on Sunday. She’d be back Saturday morning, planned to go shopping, and we would have 18 for dinner, including our neighbor, Mrs. Shubert. She listed off all the food she planned to make, and we talked about the plan for the egg hunt.

  Unfortunately, Phil couldn’t make it home and Mom was sad about that.

  I wanted to hunt for breakfast options, so I put the phone on the counter and touched the screen to put it on speaker, motioning to spencer to Shh with my index finger to my lips.

  He was half turned around to face me, his head resting on his hand. Watching. Listening.