Page 65 of Triple Threat

“I did not,” I said, turning my head and staring out over the water as it flashed by outside the window.

“Oh?” Roan asked curiously. “Then what was that?”

“Me standing up foryou,” I murmured softly, blushing furiously. “He’s going to kill me, isn’t he?” I asked.

Roan chuckled and brought my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it as he stared out the windshield, piloting the quick little car through traffic.

“Over my dead body, love. He earned it. He knows it too, the twat.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t remember,” I said and Roan glanced my way.

“Remember what?”

“Lesson one of the orphans in foster care survival guide.” Roan arched an eyebrow. “Never ever do what they expect. Remain unpredictable. They won’t know how to handle you, what you’ll tell the caseworkers when, and they’ll take it easier on you as a result.”

He raised my hand to his lips again and let them linger this time.

“Interesting,” was his only comment, probably almost a full minute later.

The drive gave me some time to think and to remember. Lach had always been this way. The one to set the rules and then to change them midway through whatever little game he played. I sighed inwardly and wondered if he really meant for this to work or not? Only time would tell on that one. I’m sure he was thinking about it.

We were silent the remainder of the forty-five minute to an hour drive to DC and by the time we reached it? I felt as though my heart rate was marginally calmer.

“Where are we going?” I asked finally, curious. I mean, I knew we were going to DC, obviously, but I meant where specificallyinDC did Conan have in mind?

“I thought you might like to do some shopping, a bit of retail therapy.”

“Retail therapy?” I echoed, trying to make sense of it. I’d never heard of it.

“Aye, shopping, my treat.”

“Oh, Conan… I don’t know. I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense, I insist.”

He whipped us down into a parking garage and I swallowed hard, not really sure what to think so instead I changed the subject, back to the one big thing we had in common.

“He’s always been like this, you know?” I asked.

“Lach?” he asked, frowning. I nodded as he whirled the car around and around deeper and deeper into the garage.

“Yeah. A bigger bully than all the other bullies combined. He used to do some really awful shit to the people who tormented me in school. I never understood it.”

“He loves you, Poppet.” I snorted. “No, no! He does. I’ve known Lachlan a long time now, have seen him interact with numerous women – not to put too fine a point on it – and you? He loves you. I’ve never seen him so willing to bend or compromise for anyone else.” He pulled into a space and engaged the parking brake. “I’ve never seen him turn so possessive over anyone like he does you.”

“That’s not love,” I said softly, facing Roan, meeting his eyes in the dark of the car in the depths of the garage. It was close, intimate in the car. I unbuckled my seatbelt and sat up, twisting in my seat to face him.

“Obsession, maybe, but what he does? You don’t torment the people you love, you don’t…” I shook my head.

“Aye,” Roan said softly. “But you need to read between the lines, lass.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t,” I murmured. “If Kyle wants this to work? He needs to pull his head out of his ass and apologize.”

Roan chuckled and his smile was beautiful.

“I don’t think we’re talking about the same man anymore,” he said.

“We are, you just need to know the words ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I apologize’ will never come out of his mouth,” I said. No, Kyle’s apologies were much more bizarre and out of the ordinary. “That’s where you need to read between the lines, I think.”

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