Page 28 of UnScripted

He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn’t say another word. Can’t say I’m surprised. The sound of a car coming down the road has us both tensing, his hand instinctively resting on his hip where his gun holster resides.

“What the hell?” I murmur at the yellow cab barreling down the gravel drive. Federico strides towards it gesturing me to stay behind him.

“Surprise!” Lucy yells, flinging the cab door open, climbing out.

“Luce?!” I screech running towards her. We meet in the middle of the lawn giggling, shrieking and clutching each other’s hands as we jump up and down. Federico comes up behind me and picks her bags off the ground muttering something about women being, “bat-shit crazy.”

“Come on, I need a drink,” I lead Luce up the stairs into my apartment.

“Who’s that?” She whispers still clutching my hand.

“Oh him? That’s Federico. He’s just my bodyguard slash gardener.”

She arcs an eyebrow, “Girl, we’re going to need a bottle of wine for this story…”

“I know,” I smirk.

I showed Luce my small but homey apartment and then took a quick shower. I grinned remembering the stunned look on Federico’s face as Luce started firing questions at him. His eyes pleaded with me not to leave him alone with her. But I had just shrugged my shoulders in response and left.

Padding across the floor in bare feet, with a towel wrapped around my head I look around.

“Where’s Federico?”

“I sent him for Chinese.”

“What? The nearest Chinese food place is in Exton two towns over.”

“Oops,” she shrugs tucking her feet up underneath her.

“No way. There’s no way he would leave. Roger would kill him.”

“Oh, yeah… he did get a call on his cell. He cursed before answering; something aboutjefe? Anyway, it seemed to be good news because all that man said was‘hells yeah,’and‘that gringo bastard’s gonna burn,’” she finishes with air quotes.

I shuffle over to my phone where it’s charging on the counter. Sure enough, there’s a text from Toad telling me they came to an understanding and Creed’s riding back home. My heart thumps in my chest.

Rog is coming back and I need to be honest with myself—he’s doing dangerous things to me. Making me want more than we both should have. I crave his touch, dream about his kiss, but know once he finds out whose blood runs in my veins, he’d freeze me out. Hell, Creed might ride me out of town, literally. He’d kick me out of my apartment, pack my shit and shove a plane ticket in my hand—if I’m lucky. Depending on his mood, he’s more likely to plant the tip of his snakeskin boot on my butt and kick me into the patch of mud out front.

“So, where’s all these, tatted, flannel wearing, bad-ass hotties you were bragging about?”

“First off—it’s still summer. I never mentioned anything about flannel. But yeah, they’re riding back from Canada. My guess is they’ll be back in the next day or two.”

“Good. We have time to do something about your hair.”

My hand automatically goes to my towel covered head. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair.”

“Fine. Your nails. Definitely your nails.”

I bring my hands down from my head and hold them out. They’re jagged and beat after digging in the soil for days. But damn if I’ll let her have the last word.

“Whatever. Fine. My nails can be fixed, but what are we going to do about the ten extra pounds you put on your ass?”

“Bitch!” She yells jumping off the couch and grabbing me by the waist trying to rip both towel and hair from my head.

We fall on the floor in a heap of giggles just like we did in our teen years when Federico busts in with his gun drawn.

“Oh great. You’re just in time to save me from the wedgie Luce was about to give me.”

He stops, in stunned disbelief at what he’s seeing: two grown ass women shrieking like teens and fighting on the floor.

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