by Anne Martin
His truck was big and rusty where it wasn’t dusty blue. He had the passenger’s door opened. I tried climbing up, but with my arms under his zipped coat, it wasn’t exactly working. He lifted me, his hands strong and gentle as he tucked me in the cab.
He took a second to push my wet hair off my face. I thought he was going to kiss me. His brown eyes were so smoldering, but he only grinned and closed the door. I tried to breathe evenly. I definitely shouldn’t get a ride with him, not when my stupid stomach kept fluttering every time he touched me. It didn’t matter. If I could deal with the way my body reacted to Daniel, I could handle this guy however bad boy he was.
When he got in, he immediately started the engine and turned on the heater.
“You really don’t have to do this,” I told him.
“I know. It’s not really for you. That car, classic Camaro, what is it, a sixty-nine?”
“Sixty-seven.”
“Yeah, I’ve been eyeing her all week. She’s not for sale, is she?”
“You’re interested in a car that doesn’t run? No, she’s not. Ever.”
He nodded like that was as it should be. I shook my head and stared out the window. The streets were dark and the wet pavement reflected the streetlights, all bright greens and reds that made me think of Christmas. The heater blew hot on my knees and I finally pushed my arms out the sleeves and warmed my hands. I shivered as I hunched closer.
I didn’t realize that he hadn’t asked where I lived until he pulled up outside my house. I stared at it stupidly before turning to him.
“How did you know?”
“Your car. I live there.” He nodded two houses down where the beautiful moving guy had carried the boxes the first day of school.
I stared at him, kind of horrified, also humiliated. Luckily, he didn’t know that I’d been ogling him like some kinky housewife. “Oh. That’s convenient. I’m glad you didn’t have to drive out of your way.”
He nodded. “That would have been more romantic. Do you need me to help you out?”
I shook my head and then I realized that he was suggesting that I should leave, which I should, instead of sitting there staring at him like I had no clue how to function. I was too tired. I really shouldn’t have stayed so late working on my project, particularly when it was probably ruined in the back of my car and I wouldn’t be able to work on it over the weekend anyway.
He got out and came around like I’d said I needed help. Honestly, I was so tired, I didn’t want to move, particularly to go out in the rain, but there he was grinning with his nice teeth. He picked me up and carried me up the walk to the front porch and I put my hands around his neck and tried not to think about it or look at him. He smelled really good, and his skin was wet.
“You are light. Maybe you’re a baby bird instead of a kitten,” he said once he reached the porch. He didn’t put me down right away.
I patted his shoulder. “Um, thanks. I would protest that I’m no damsel or kitten, needing to be rescued, but I’m too tired to go all feminist on your well-sculpted behind.”
He flashed a smile so delighted, I saw dimples for a second. “Never be too tired to go all feminist. Hm. Must be the rain, Kitten. Takes it out of you.” He still didn’t put me down.
I wanted to put my head on his shoulder. One second I thought it, the next, I was blinking from the close proximity to his skin.
“I have a feeling you’ll get heavier when you fall asleep. Are you going to be okay?” he asked, finally putting me down. He held me up by my elbows.
I unzipped his jacket and slipped out of it, leaving it in his hands. “Thanks for the ride, Brutish. I owe you.”
I turned to wrestle with my lock. He watched me try and get the key in the hole.
He gently moved me aside and opened the door for me. He gestured me in while I struggled to be grateful. I lifted my chin.
“Thank you.”
“Think nothing of it. I’ll hit you up for a ride after your chariot’s running. Later.” He nodded to me and turned, loping across the yard through the heavy rain towards his still running truck while I leaned against the door watching him.
Chapter 4
Nix Death-Hammer
I was working through my weights reps when I heard something dragging across my porch. I picked up a twenty-five pounder before I went to the front door and flung it open.
Kitten Princess looked up guiltily from the position she was in, head-first on an orange couch that had seen better days. She quickly rolled off and brushed down her jeans. “Hey, Brutish.”
“Hey, Kitten.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but then she turned to look at the yellow car with black skunk stripe and only shook her head. She turned around and gave me a beaming smile that made me a little bit nervous.
“You brought her home last night.”
“This morning. How do you know it was me?”
She held up the paper with the folded twenty I’d left on the driver’s seat. Her smiley face now had devil horns on it. “You stole my keys?”
“You didn’t notice. You’re lucky my delinquent days are behind me. You make a seriously sweet target.”
She blushed and swiped her cute blond hair out of her eyes.
It was so fun to make her blush. I shouldn’t be so mean. “All right. You have my confession, but I left your keys on the hall table. So, what’s this?” The orange and green checked couch from the seventies was definitely not my style.
“I looked in your window and noticed that you have no furniture. So, I decided that I’d give you the best couch in the world, including…” She held up a finger like it was a very exciting, suspenseful moment. She drew it out until I worried that she’d forgotten. “Custom tailored slipcover. I can do cream, off-white, linen, natural, or oatmeal.”
I blinked at her. “Aren’t those all the same colors?”
“Natural it is. Do you want to help me move it into your living room? I’m worried it’ll scratch your floors if I just shove it.”
I stared at her, then at the couch, then at the yards she’d plowed through leaving deep grooves in the grass to bring me the hideous thing. It was longer than usual and the checks were probably around the era of her car. On the plus size, it looked like it would be long enough to sleep on, but with a narrow enough silhouette not to take up the entire room.
I nodded and grabbed one end. She barely kept up with me as I hauled it inside and towards the far wall next to the wood stove. I put it down and nudged it closer to the wall.
“Okay,” she said, clearly out of breath. She took a second, leaning on her knees and breathing hard before she straightened and gave me another one of those sunshine-bright smiles. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yeah? That’s really not necessary.”
She didn’t answer me, only left me at the door, watching her walk in her snug jeans. She had a rather well-sculpted behind if you like curves with just the right amount of bounce. I’d have to watch myself. She’d been in my dreams ever since that unfortunate bet. She was too different from what I usually had, jaded, hardened women who knew what they wanted and took it from me without apology. That’s what I liked, so why was I still standing there when she staggered outside carrying a sewing machine and a bundle of fabric.
I hurried over and took them both out of her hands.
“Oh, good,” she said and turned around, coming back out with a sewing box and a bag of other mysterious sewing paraphernalia.
She spent the rest of the day turning the hideous couch into a functional piece of furniture. The fabric was painter’s drop-cloths and there were a few streaks of paint, but only on the back where it would be impossible to see when you pushed it against the wall.
I made her a sandwich for lunch and she took it, eying me suspiciously, like I’d drugged the chicken on the nicely toasted rye. It was a good sandwich, hot and crunchy with gooey insides. She ate hers in tiny bites as she kept working, climbing around the couch and measuring it th
en laying out the fabric with her measuring tape.
I tried to keep busy and not blatantly stare at her, but the whole thing was so strange. The strangest thing was the way that she didn’t talk to me, look at me, or flirt with me. She was here on a mission and would take off the second she’d paid me back for my act of goodwill. I didn’t usually go out of my way to help people, not when it could come across as being a nosy busybody, but maybe I should, particularly if it drove her as crazy as she currently was, trying to be polite and demure, paying off her debt to me as quickly as possible. While I’d never asked for a couch, she’d never asked me to take care of her car.
She was dragging around dinnertime when she only had a few finishing touches to wrap up. I put some effort into the nice chicken and steamed vegetables although I had no dining tables and chairs, so we had to eat at the bar.
“Come on, dinner’s getting cold,” I said to her. She was laying on the floor holding a heavy-duty stapler and staring at the underside of the couch. She’d applied long strips of Velcro.
“I’m okay,” she said as she scooted out and started throwing the covering over the couch again. “It’s almost done.” She bit her lip and looked anxious, also sexy. She shouldn’t come into my house looking like that when she knew as well as I did that chemistry between us was extremely strong and strangely sweet.
I helped her cover the couch in the snug slipcover and while she secured the Velcro so it wouldn’t slip, I went to get our plates. I sat down on the couch and held out hers.
“Go ahead. You look weak with hunger.”
She made a face at me. “You cook way too well.”
I blinked at her innocently. “Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing.”
I nodded again to the cushion next to me. She sat down with a sigh and took the plate. “Thank you, Brutish.”
“Anytime, Kitten.” When I glanced at her, it’s because she’d slumped over onto my shoulder and was soundly asleep. Her skin looked a little bit pale and she’d taken three bites out of the chicken that was about to tip over and spill on the freshly covered couch. I took her plate carefully and ate all the food then set it on the floor and carefully shifted until her head was on my lap. She rolled over and pulled her legs up so she was properly lying on the couch.
I sat there with her face against my stomach and tried to think appropriate thoughts. I took off my shirt and carefully shifted so I could tuck it under her head without waking her up. I walked over to the window and looked outside. It was still light.
Her phone buzzed, and I checked it. It was ‘Aunt Willie’. The text was pretty assertive.
Why haven’t you responded? I’m taking an earlier flight back if I don’t get a response in ten minutes.
I texted back, I lost my phone under the couch. Sorry to worry you! She was an exclamation points kind of person.
What were you doing under the couch?
She sounded positively suspicious. What did Kitten usually do under couches? I glanced over at her, looking for a little too long. Seeing her in the rain in that white t-shirt hadn’t been good for me, not when she was exactly what I shouldn’t touch.
The usual. When are you coming back?
Tomorrow at four. Did you forget that you need to pick me up? You’re the one who made reservations at Old Holler.
How convenient that she had a working car. She definitely owed me. Maybe a kiss. Maybe three. I shook my head. That’s why she’d given me a couch, so she wouldn’t owe me anything.
I love their food! I’m tired! See you tomorrow!
I fumbled a lot with that one. I tossed the phone onto the couch next to her and went to get a drink. I figured she’d wake up soon enough from her nap and be humiliatingly embarrassed, and that would be worth my while, letting her take up space in my life and on my couch. My couch? It was really comfortable and she made it look good, all curled up like a kitten. Maybe I should get a pet.
I grabbed my leather jacket and left without leaving a note. Saturday night at the bar, I sat there, drinking and trying not to think of the girl curled up on my couch. It would be fun sneaking around her aunt. I’d seen the older woman who drove the no-nonsense gray sedan. Maybe Kitten needed to get married before she turned into an old prune. She was definitely the marrying kind.
“Buy me a drink?” a brunette asked, her long legs and short skirt almost as tantalizing as the cleavage she waved in front of my face.
“I’m waiting for someone,” I said. Why did I say that? I softened my words with a smile before I sipped from my bottle.
She smiled back and ran her hand over my forearm with practiced ease. “If you come with me, I promise to leave you in one piece. At least mostly.” She winked at me like that had been too subtle to possibly misunderstand.
“I’m not coming with you, darlin’, but thanks for the offer.”
A hand slapped a twenty down on the bar in front of me. “He takes cash,” she said, slipping into the empty seat the other girl had been leaning over. It was Stina, my very own Kitten’s ex. I really should get the story about that.
I slipped the twenty off the bar and into my pocket. “Thank you kindly,” I said with a nod.
“Run along,” Stina said, nudging the other girl away from us. The brunette sent her a scathing glare before she turned and sauntered off. She looked very nice from the back. She was precisely the sort of thing I needed to clear my head. I sipped my beer and watched her walk, but didn’t go after her.
“Fancy running into you here. You should thank me for saving you from the aggressive females in this place. You’re fresh meat and no one knows whether you’re allergic to commitment yet or not.”
“Allergic,” I said with a nod.
“That’s what I figured. That’s why I asked you for your chivalrous assistance the other day.”
“It was my pleasure.” I patted my wallet and winked at her.
She laughed, throwing her head back and making the throaty sound that would probably be very attractive after I’d had a few more.
“You’re just sitting here, checking out the menu,” she said, crossing her legs which were very nicely put together. “See anything you like?”
“What’s not to like?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s the same as saying what’s to like. I’m tempted to give you another twenty to make someone jealous, but you have such nice teeth. I’d hate to see what you’d look like afterwards.”
“That’s awfully considerate of you. I do like my teeth.” I had more crowns and veneers than I’d like to admit. My career wasn’t kind to teeth or anything else.
“Here he is. Daniel!” She waved past me.
I glanced over to see my cousin, the tall blond that pushed through the crowd impatiently. He was almost ridiculously handsome in spite of the frown he gave us. When he reached us, he looked at me, expecting me to move. I was slouched over and trying to look nonthreatening, but that didn’t mean I was going to bow to his alpha.
I nodded to the chair on the other side of me that had been recently vacated.
He sat down and ordered a ginger ale.
“Ginger ale?” Stina asked, tittering.
“I’m here to drive you home. Doing it drunk doesn’t seem very practical.”
“Shut up.” She threw back her drink and then eyed me before leaning over the counter in front of me. “This is the guy I was talking about, the one I bribed to make out with me.”
Daniel’s face went a shade colder. “It’s a pleasure.” It wasn’t a pleasure for him. The bet was to see if I could get the girl, the no-name southern princess he loved to agree to be my fiancé and solve all my family difficulties, not to meddle with anyone else.
“It was okay. This your girl?” He hadn’t mentioned her either.
He shook his head and winced. “No. We’re just friends.”
Stina laughed, all throaty and sexy on top and all the angry and mean underneath. She didn’t like that dismissive, ‘just friends.’ I was startin
g to think I should have given up my seat just so she wasn’t leaning over me, half to talk to Daniel, half to rub against me so he’d get jealous. I couldn’t tell if he was more irritated with her for being so obvious about what she was doing, me for putting up with it, or himself for caring.
“I’m Nix,” I said, holding out my hand, using the movement to push her back into her own seat.
Daniel shook it, his grip firm and strong. “Daniel. I apologize for Christina. She loses her mind when it comes to Sunny.”
I blinked at him. Sunny? My Kitten’s name couldn’t actually be Sunny, so it must be Daniel’s pet name for her. I gripped his hand a little harder than necessary and didn’t release it right away. “Do you pick her up at bars when she gets wasted too?”
He snorted and I let go of his hand. He turned to sip his ginger ale. “Sunny doesn’t get wasted. Sunny doesn’t try to make her life worse than it is.”
“That’s right,” Christina said with a nasty smile. “Sunny’s perfect, right Daniel? That’s why you’re here with me instead of her.”
He only shrugged and took another sip.
“I’m guessing the three of you went to school together. You’re locals?”
Daniel nodded.
“Tell me about Old Holler. What’s the best thing to order?”
That distracted them from their little thing, apparently Daniel had a thing for Sunny and Christina had a thing for him. He seemed perfect for Kitten. I thought that and gave myself a nod. I told myself that I was pleased that she’d have a nice southern gentleman to hold her through the nights who wouldn’t have to feel guilty for breaking her heart. I kept thinking that all the way until I left the bar, walked past a car and heard Christina’s throaty laugh. They’d left twenty minutes earlier, but apparently not made it past the parking lot.