Page 51 of The Deadbeat Next Door

“I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself. If you agree to keep your music turned down low, I’ll just read my book.”

“What are you reading?”

“One of those fun hybrids,” I said. “Part suspense, part thriller, part romance, part science fiction.”

“That sounds oddly intriguing. I’ll turn the music off altogether if you read it to me.”

“I’m already a quarter of the way through.”

“Well, I get bored driving, so I either need loud music or an audio book. Since I don’t have any audio books, I’d hoped your scintillating conversation would entertain me. Seeing as how you only want to argue, you should read to me to make up for it.”

I didn’t react as I expect he wanted me to. I was on to him, he was picking a fight as a way to entertain himself and I wasn’t going to play. I would read to him, because I enjoyed reading aloud, it was something I did often as a teacher. I pulled out my Kindle and clicked back to the start of the book. I read to him, but I looked up every two pages or so to admire the scenery as we drove through North Carolina and South Carolina and into Georgia. I read to him until my throat was dry and my jaw hurt. I closed the Kindle and rested my head against the seat back. “Are we there yet?”

“Three more hours,” he said. “You’ve got a nice voice. Not sure about the book, though.”

“She’s not the most likable character, but give it a chance. It gets better.”

“There’s a rest stop ahead,” he said. “Want to get out and stretch a bit?”

“Sounds good.”

There were only a couple other cars in the parking lot of the rest stop. Cody met me at the front of the truck, grabbed me and pulled me against him in a hard kiss. I froze in shock for a moment, but caught on and kissed him back after just a few seconds. I forgot where we were, my whole world became the feel of him against me, and I just wanted more, more, more. I’d never been so greedy for something in my life.

“Listening to you read for the last hour and a half has been the weirdest sort of foreplay I’ve ever experienced,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to wait until we get to the house to ravish you again.”

“Well, you’re going to have to wait longer than that,” I said. “Because I am not doing anything with you in your mother’s house.”

His eyes widened and his grip on my hips tightened. “Why the hell not?”

“Um, because she knows our engagement is a big, fat fake and, even if it was real, I wouldn’t have sex with my fiancé under his mother’s roof. What if she heard us?”

His smile widened. “You know what this sounds like,” he said. “It sounds like a challenge. I love a good challenge.”

A moment ago, he’d been making my blood heat with lust, now it was heating with irritation. “It’s not a challenge. It’s a fact.”

“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you say, boss.”

“Uh-huh. I’m going to use a bathroom.”

“Look around while you’re in there. See if you can find a good place for me to make you forget your name.”

“Right, because sex in a filthy, smelly rest stop bathroom is every woman’s fantasy.” Despite my words, I couldn’t help looking around as I walked through the building. Everything was slightly grimy and wide open to anyone who walked by. Not an option.

I shook my head as I walked back to Cody, who was leaning against the front of his truck. His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “Guess you’ll just have to give me road head.”

“Road head?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I understood exactly what he meant. I slapped his stomach hard with the back of my hand. “In your dreams.”

He doubled over in mock pain and grunted. Then he hobbled to get into the truck. “Sounds like you’ve just given me my second challenge.” He sat and started the engine.

“You’re setting yourself up for failure on every level.” I wasn’t sure if he’d convince me to sleep with him in his mother’s house, but I was certain he’d never convince me to give him “road head.” I was a cautious person by nature and nurture. I wouldn’t be able to stop worrying about the potential consequences. What if he closed his eyes or lost control of the car? It was way too risky.

He smirked. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last,” I said. “My throat is sore. Tell me a story.”

“A story? Like Cinderella? You want a bedtime story?”

“No. Tell me a story about you and your family. Prepare me for the people I’m about to meet.”

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