My breath caught and my belly bottomed out when I felt his lips and the whiskers of his beard as he kissed me beside my ear. He didn’t pull away as he said, “Yup. But it sounds like someone’s catchin’ on to the fact that we’re a thing, which makes it worth it.”
His second kiss was accompanied by his touch as he reached beneath his tee and squeezed one of my panty-clad ass cheeks.
It took everything in me not to giggle.
Fucking giggle.
Shit.
“Bye, baby,” he said.
And then he was gone.
I replayed his goodbye in my head over and over, until it put me back to sleep—like a fairytale.
I don’t know how long I slept, but I knew it was nearly ten when I sat up, jonesing for a cup of coffee. Remembering Twister didn’t drink the stuff, I reached for my phone, feeling snarky, and sent him a quick text.
We’re not a “thing” until you get a coffee machine.
Rather than wait for his reply, I tossed my phone aside and ventured to the bathroom. After I handled my business, I realized I was in Twister’s house—all alone—with no place to rush off to.
Truth of the matter was, in spite of my text, I couldn’t reasonably deny he and I were a thing. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. It wasn’t in his nature to settle down or claim an ol’ lady any more than it was something for which I was stupid enough to hope. It wasthatknowledge which gave me the gumption to indulge the desire in the first place. He would get bored or restless, as I imagined he always did, and we would end.
Before either of us could get hurt.
Before my secrets could break us apart.
In the meantime—he was too handsome, too persistent, too hard to resist.
‘I got you, sparky. You’re safe.’
I still wasn’t sure what his monster looked like or what could wake it—but I was beginning to trust he had a handle on it, and I didn’t need to be afraid.
Regardless, I was smart enough to recognize an opportunity when I saw one. If there was anything he was keeping from me—anything to give me reason to second guess him—he’d unwittingly offered me the chance to find it.
I spent thirty minutes searching the house. I opened drawers, cabinets, and closets. The only thing I found even remotely interesting was a gun safe. He kept the thing, which was taller than me, tucked into a corner of his walk-in closet. I didn’t bother trying to open it. I had a feeling the only things inside were guns.
As I stood in the middle of his bedroom, looking around, I thought back to the night of our first date. Rather than remembering the awful way it ended, I considered how it started. Him sitting across from me at Humphrey’s. He answered every one of my questions, as if he was an open book. Then, I’d meant it as a challenge, but he rose to the occasion. This morning, him leaving me by myself in his house, it was further proof of his openness; his honesty.
He wasn’t hiding from me.
I wanted to believe he was as real and upfront as he claimed.
After snooping around, I couldn’t see a reason not to.
Given I was in a house with no food or coffee, I didn’t stick around for much longer. I got dressed, left through the garage, and headed home to get on with my day. I had enough time to caffeinate, tend to my garden, scarf down a quick lunch, and shower before it was time for me to leave for work.
I breezed through my weekly inventory tasks, put in an order for the bar, and was already started on nightly prep when Rodeo arrived.
He bellied up to the bar, jerking his chin at me before he greeted, “Yo. Need anything?”
I offered him my most charming smile, batting my eyelashes playfully, and he burst out laughing.
“Bathrooms?” he asked knowingly.
“Mmhmm,” I hummed with a nod.
“On it.”