by Odette Stone
He walked across the room, pulled the chair out and sat down across from me. I rubbed at a headache that was starting to throb in my temples. The hangover had officially begun.
“Am I going to be arrested?”
“No.”
“How do you know that?”
“I talked to your lawyer. She suspects they don’t have a solid chain of custody on your purse. It was dropped, found by a cop, and then you claimed it?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “That’s why you won’t be arrested.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck.”
He leaned back in his chair. Again, he crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “What happened tonight?”
I swallowed. “My friend, Janet, wanted to go to a club.”
My God, that stare. Just penetrating me.
I tried to look away from his eyes. “I don’t typically party like this.”
Those damn grey eyes gazed back, judging me.
I ground my teeth, feeling compelled to explain myself. “We started out in a normal club, but she wanted to try out a new club. It was a dive. I was in the washroom when all Hell broke loose. People were screaming and panicking, I lost my purse, and we got rounded up and searched. They carried out my purse and asked who it belonged to. Next thing I knew, I was in cuffs.”
“Are the drugs yours?”
I flushed. Hard. “No.” Again with that assessment. Embarrassment coursed through my veins. “I don’t do drugs.” I sounded terse and way too defensive.
“I didn’t say you did.”
“Your look did.”
“What look is that?”
Dammit. Those eyes.
“Why are you here anyway?” I asked in exasperation.
“Jackson called me.”
“Why?”
“To provide moral support.”
“Well, you’re stressing me out.”
He laughed. Like full on, looked at the ceiling and laughed. I had a feeling this was the Porter that Emily had been trying to set me up with. What was the word she had used? Breathtaking? I couldn’t even reconcile him with the bearded mute from a few months ago.
“You’re different,” I said slowly.
“I’m drunk.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Is that why you’re talking?”
Another look.
“Don’t slip back into your selective mutism on my account.”
“Maybe I didn’t have anything to say to someone like you.”
“Like me?” I bristled. “I’m fucking fantastic, you know. You’d be lucky to get someone like me.”
He thought about that for a moment. “Yeah. Because bailing your ass out of jail for possession is on the top of my list for chicks I want to date.”
I huffed. “Oh, what important thing did I pull you away from tonight? Drinking by yourself in a bar while cruising for easy chicks?”
“Trust me, the easy chick I could have picked up tonight would be too prim to put on the dress you’re wearing.”
I mentally had a flash of him pining some hot chick against the wall. For some reason, I didn’t like that image. “You were with a woman when Jackson called you?”
He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
How far had he gotten with his one-night stand? What exactly were they doing when Jackson called him? An image of him naked and kissing some chick in her bed came to my mind.
My face flushed. “How badly were you interrupted?”
“It didn’t get that far.”
“Does she have a name?”
Back to that look.
Slowly, it dawned on me that his one-night stand had honestly been that. For some reason, that shocked me. “I bet you don’t even know her name.”
“You’re judging me?”
“Just trying to get you off your self-righteous throne.”
“You should talk.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Jackson called you tonight. He wasted your time.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does because you got dragged down here for no reason. I don’t need you here.”
That was a tiny lie. It was actually kind of nice that he was here. More than nice, if I was honest with myself. Even if he was utterly infuriating.
“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Jackson.”
That made me pause. “Well, I appreciate the effort, but once I get out of here, you can go back to whatever—or whomever—you were doing before you got this call.”
“I will.”
“That’s great.”
“It is.”
“I think I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”
He responded with a smile that was so sexy, it made my toes curl. I had to work to keep the smile off my face. It was official. I’d gone insane. I was in a police precinct, and former Duck Dynasty wannabe had me fighting a smile. Maybe I was still drunk.
The door opened, and the detective entered with my purse in her outstretched hand. She glared at me. “You’re free to go.”
Porter unfolded himself from the chair and stood up. I stood up beside him.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” the detective started.
“None of your business,” he interrupted. He held out his hand, and she reluctantly handed him my purse, which he handed off to me.
“I’m going to find out,” she promised. “I’m sick as shit of people like you walking free.”
“Back off,” he growled.
She glared at Porter as she held the door open. He walked out first, and the tightness of my skirt and the length of my stilettos made it challenging to keep up with his long strides, but I did my best. In the lobby, I skidded to a stop at the sight of Yates, standing at the front desk.
“Beth.” He scanned me up and down, his baby blue eyes wide.
“What are you doing here?” I refrained from pulling my skirt down.
“Janet called me. I came to get you out of jail.” He appeared as confused as I felt as he took in my outfit, Porter, and my wild hair.
“Well, I’m out of jail.”
“I’ll take you home.” His voiced reeked of the civil authority I’d learned to hate. “I’ve got a car waiting.”
I shook my head and stepped a fraction closer to Porter. “No, thank you.”
Yates scrutinized Porter up. “Who the fuck are you?”
“This,” I wrapped my arm around Porter’s thick forearm, “is Porter.”
“Beth.” Yates’ sounded exasperated. “The party is over. Now, let’s go.”
I hated how he reminded me of my parents. Blame the tequila, but I squished my body closer to Porter’s and said, “Porter’s my boyfriend.” I could feel Porter looking down at me, but I couldn’t force myself to look up into those knowing grey eyes.
I’d never seen Yates more stunned. “Since when are you dating anyone?”
I stroked Porter’s arm up and down like I would a large dog. “We’re very serious. The feelings we have for each other are very strong, aren’t they, sweetie?”
Porter cleared his throat. “The feelings I have for you, I shouldn’t say out loud.”
I gave his arm a biting squeeze. “Because you feel so strongly for me…right?”
“To the point of almost being violent.”
“Trust me, he means that,” I assured Yates. I was sure he would call me on this farce, but he seemed too flummoxed.
He glanced between Porter and me. “How did you two meet?”
I sighed. “We met at Emily’s baby christening. Our connection was instantaneous.” I glanced up at Porter.
He stared at Yates with a straight face. “She made me speechless.”
I sounded strangled. “The emotional support I get from Porter… it’s like nothing I’ve experienced before.”
Yates stood there, looking between us. “Janet never told me.”
I patted Porter’s arm. Repeatedly. “Some relationships you want to keep a se
cret for as long as possible.”
“Or forever,” Porter added, completely deadpan.
“Well, honey,” I hung onto Porter’s arm, “should we go?”
“Have a good night,” Porter said formally to Yates.
Without looking at Yates, I walked out of the station, holding onto Porter’s arm. To his credit, he didn’t say a word. He hailed a cab, held the door open for me like the gentleman I didn’t think he was and climbed in after me.
“Where to?” I tried my best to look innocent.
“You owe me for that. So, I’m crashing at your place.”
“The hell you are!”
“I’d be happily asleep right now in some chick’s bed if it wasn’t for you.”
“Right. The chick with no name. Fine. But you get the couch, and at the crack of dawn, you get out.”
The cab driver waited patiently. I gave him my address when Porter reached over and yanked me to his side.
“What the hell?” I was a second away from shoving his ass out of the cab.
“Your little boyfriend is watching,” he said, his lips against my forehead. “So play nice.”
I peered out the grimy window. Yates stood on the top steps of the police station, hands in his pockets, watching as our cab pulled away. Sucking in my pride, I leaned into Porter’s touch, too damn aware of the feel of his lips on my head.
This was a disaster.
Chapter 6
My terrible dream involved my mom. She was lecturing me. What else was new?
I groaned and opened my eyes, blinking at the streaming sunlight hitting my face. God, my head. Throbbing pain made me wince. Mom’s shrill voice filled the room. I shot up in bed.
What the hell?
Mom was in my apartment. And who was she talking to? The previous night came crashing back.
Getting arrested.
Porter.
Yates.
Porter. Oh, geez. Porter was out there. Alone. With my mom. And from the sounds of it, he was getting a hell of a lecture. I scrambled out of bed, wrapping my short robe around my body. I yanked open the bedroom door and sprinted towards the kitchen.
“I’m not sure what your intentions are with my daughter, but let me assure you—you’re only a passing fling for her. She’s destined to marry Yates. The sooner you understand that and move on, the better off my daughter will be.” Mom’s voice was so high, it could split glass.
I stood there, taking in the living nightmare in my apartment. Porter was fully dressed, leaning against the counter, casually sipping a cup of coffee. The bedding I’d given him was out of sight. Mom stood in the middle of the room, pointing her finger at Porter.
“Mom!”
She whirled around and looked at me, defiance pasted on her face. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Tell you what?!” I crossed my arms, aware that my semi-translucent robe was about as revealing as the dress I wore last night.
“Why did I have to hear from Yates that you’re dating someone?”
I swallowed, and my eyes shifted to Porter. Crap. This was so freaking awkward. “Mom.”
“I told you to tell your parents about us,” Porter said dryly.
My mouth dropped open. “What?”
He shrugged. My mind raced. Was he actually going to keep up this charade?
I turned to Mom and crossed my arms. “Yates has no business running to you about my dating life. It’s none of his freaking business.”
She wasn’t backing down. “Language, young lady.”
“I’m not going to marry Yates, Mom. I’m not. You have to accept my choices.”
Her shoulders slumped, and a part of me hated how crushed she looked. “Beth.”
I almost felt sorry for her. No matter how misguided she was, I’d rather see her angry than defeated. “Mom, please. This wasn’t going to stay a secret. I just wasn’t ready to share.”
She shook her head, her features too pretty for the sadness tainting them. “I want the best for you. You’re not getting any younger, and Yates is willing to marry you!” My mom’s frantic panic to marry me off to the first willing man stung. Her lack of belief in my ability to find love felt like a pinprick to my already deflated confidence.
I took a few deep breaths before I managed to say, “I know you want the best for me.”
She squared her shoulders and looked at Porter. “I apologize for my rude behavior.”
He gave her a mild look. “That’s not an issue, ma’am. I respect that you love your daughter.”
“Beth’s father and I would like to get to know you better. Tonight, we’d like you both to join us for dinner at the club.”
Oh, Hell no.
“Mom—”
“Beth.” She leveled me with a look. “If you’re dating someone new, we’d like to get to know him. We need to make sure he’s worthy of you.”
“Thank you for the invite.” Porter’s tone was respectful.
She turned and looked at me, anxiety filling her eyes. “I really hope to see you and Porter tonight.”
I swallowed. I needed to tell her the truth. “Mom.”
She lifted her hand. “You can text me later.”
She gave Porter one last look before walking out of my apartment.
I stood there for a full minute, staring at the closed door. Holy smokes. Did that just happen?
I slowly turned around and met Porter’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Coffee?”
I moved to the counter and watched as he poured me a mug and set it in front of me. “I need cream.”
“You’re one of those,” he said, but he reached behind him and grabbed the creamer from the fridge door.
I doctored my coffee and lifted it to my lips. How was I going to swing this? I’d need to text my mom and tell her that we couldn’t make it. There was no way I was having dinner with her, Dad, and Porter. Nope. Wasn’t happening.
Porter watched me. “What?”
“Did you sleep okay?”
“I’ve slept on worse couches.”
“I’m sorry about my mom.”
“She’s acting like a mom.”
“How long have you been up?”
“Awhile.”
We drank our coffee in silence. I wanted to erase the last 24 hours from my memory. “Are you going to tell Jackson about last night?”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell.”
I eyed him speculatively. He actually meant that. That humbled me. After everything I had put him through, he was still going to be a gentleman about it all. This man had given up sex to sit with me in jail, pretended to be my boyfriend to a jealous ex, and stood by while my mom reamed him out.
“Thank you for your help last night. I’m sorry I interrupted your evening with your lady friend.”
“That’s okay. I can come with you.”
What the hell? Was he propositioning me? I can come with you. My mind went there. Him, naked and on top of me. Thrusting. His face wincing as he started to come. Would he be completely silent or would a harsh, manly sound rip out of his throat as he orgasmed? Christ, I wish I could control my thoughts. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my stomach. The image turned me on.
“Excuse me?” I tried to sound scandalized, but I just sounded shocked.
“I can come with you. To meet your parents.”
He wasn’t talking about sex. He was talking about dining with my parents.
That’s a hard no.
Mom would eat him alive. She was a ruthless snob, who looked down on everyone. And that was on a good day. If she saw Porter as a threat, it would be total annihilation.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“I mean, I appreciate your SEAL friendship that you have going on with Jackson, and you’ve acted incredibly honorable, and Jackson will get rave reviews about you, but you’re so off the hook on this, it isn’t even funny. My mom is not someone you want to dine with.”
>
“This isn’t about Jackson.”
I stopped short, coffee cup halfway to my lips. “It isn’t?”
For the first time, he looked away from my gaze. “I need a favor.”
“To do what?”
“It’s a simple matter that needs taking care of.”
“Is it illegal?”
“You’re worried about illegal?” He checked his military watch. “A mere six hours after I picked you up from jail?”
I crossed my arms over the thin fabric of my housecoat. “I’m not sure we’re at that point in our friendship that we’re burying bodies for each other.”
“What?”
“If Emily called me and she had some dead body in her kitchen, I’m her person. She’d call me, and I’d help her dispose.”
“Of the body?”
“And the evidence.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s a measure of friendship. And no hard feelings, but I’m not ready to bury a body for you.”
“There isn’t a body.”
“What is it?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “It’s nothing illegal.”
“So, you’d face the lion’s den with me in exchange for a non-illegal act that you don’t want to talk about?”
“I’m sure dinner won’t be that bad.”
“Ha! Well, right now, I want to shake on that deal, but I really don’t think that’s fair to you. You’re turning out to be a decent guy, so it’s only fair that you hear the disclaimer. You’d be safer swimming in a shark tank with twenty hungry sharks while wearing a raw meat suit.”
He blinked.
“And,” I continued, “you’d have to wear a suit and tie.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“I haven’t even come close to warning you about all the perils you might face.”
“Can you help me out or not?”
“What is it you want?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Why can’t you tell me then?”
“I just…” He swallowed. “Do we have a deal or not?”
Even without knowing what he wanted me to do, I knew I was getting the better deal here. Sue me for being a ruthless businesswoman. “We have a deal.”
He held out his hand, and I placed mine in his. His hand was huge, big and warm, and his handshake was firm. A spark jolted up my arm, that had me tugging my hand out of his grip.