Page 8 of Devil's Haunting
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he fires back without hesitation.
The glare I shoot at him doesn’t seem to penetrate. Considering the confidence coming off this guy, I’m not at all surprised.
“I just want to get through the tour because then I’ll go and grab some things from the clubhouse before heading back here.” He says it casually, as if his words make sense.
They don’t.
“Okay,” I hold out the word, “that doesn’t make any sense.”
One side of his mouth tips up right before he lets me know, “If you’re staying here then so am I.”
My chin drops to my chest, and I look at him in disbelief. It’s not like I’ve done much in this house; I couldn’t. The only thing I was able to pull off was creating a make-shift studio to work in and using a blow-up mattress to try and throw together a bedroom. And that’s about it.
“You’re staying here?” Disbelief colors every word, but all Tripp does is smile.
I’m not sure if I want to slap the smile off his face or kiss him.
Maybe both?
Definitely both.
“Like I said, you’re not staying here alone,” the tone of his voice doesn’t leave any room for argument. “I can already tell how stubborn you are, and if you are going to insist on staying here then I’m going to be here with you. There’s no way I would be able to sleep knowing you’re here alone.”
He’s talking like the words he’s saying are fucking normal. But they’re not. Honestly, they’re borderline unhinged.
Who meets someone and within an hour tells them they’re moving into their house?
Apparently, a biker with a tool belt.
Tripp walks around me and then places his hand on the small of my back. The heat of his hand soaking through the thin tank I’m wearing grounds me. It doesn’t make what he’s saying make any more sense, but I can tell by the clench of his jaw that he’s not backing down.
And neither am I.
I guess the only thing I can do is finish this walk through. As I do, I try and keep some distance between us, but Tripp has a way of stepping a little closer just when it feels like I can breathe easier. I’d call it a gift, if it didn’t send my entire body into fight or flight mode.
The frown on his face is kind of glorious when he sees the room I made into a bedroom for myself. It made me smile, even though I turned away from Tripp so he wouldn’t see it. The last room we stop at, after going to the second floor and coming back down, is the solarium which is where I’ve put my studio.
“Fucking hell, little Mischief-maker,” Tripp grunts when he catches sight of the canvas on my easel.
I needed to keep busy the last few days while allowing my brain to come to terms with the ridiculous amount of money I now have along with the giant mansion which has seen better days. What better way to get out of my head than to paint?
“You painted this?” Tripp’s voice is filled with awe as he looks between me and the canvas.
“Yeah,” I admit with a shrug.
He runs a hand over his face before shaking his head. The way he eyes me makes me feel like a puzzle he’s desperate to solve.
“You’re just full of surprises, huh, Laiken?”
“I guess I am,” I throw back at him.
His dark eyes intensely meet my gaze and hold. It’s like I can’t move; I’m not entirely sure I want to. My entire body is screaming at me to climb him and press my lips against his, but I hold off. How? I have no idea. Before I know what is happening, he’s made me promise to be careful in the house while also leaving me with the promise that he’ll be back soon.
What the hell just happened? I would have wondered if he’s really coming back, but I could see the sincerity in his eyes. The last thing I expected after Mr. Black’s phone call about my inheritance was a biker roommate. Yet here I am.
Apparently.
Let’s just hope I can keep my panties on. This man has me on fucking edge, and I don’t think anything can pull me back from it.
