Page 19 of Property of Bull
“That’s also why, Iknowyou never would have come back here if you had any other option.” For the first time since our recent interactions, he sounds caring and, ignoring the threat of tears in my eyes, I chance a glance up at him. “Tell me why you’re here and I’ll do anything in my power to help you.”
Gasping for breath, I am barely able to shake my head at him before I slide off the stool, carefully placing the tattered remains of my napkin on the table before forcing myself to walk slowly toward the door.
My hands are noticeably shaking as I pull out of the parking lot, turning back toward home, trying to calm myself before I call Dad.
Fuck.
My phone. I left my phone on the table.
Going back to retrieve it is unthinkable, so I continue on, deciding to call Granddad’s cell from his landline and asking him to stop at the bar to pick it up.
Nope.
Dad always said, if you run one time, you’ll run every time. Of course, he also helped me pack up and convinced me to move in with Granddad, indicating that there are times he thinks I should run.
Taking a deep breath, I pull into a driveway, ignoring the swing of the curtain as the homeowner investigates the intrusion, and turn back around.
Driving faster than I should, I’m quickly parked right outside the Stumble Inn and hit the hazard lights, intending to be in and out.
Captain is standing next to Bull, who’s eating as though I was never there, although I notice he knocked back his Johnnie Walker in my short absence.
“And here I was worried you didn’t like the food,” Captain cracks, walking back toward the bar.
“I left my phone,” I needlessly say, and for the first time notice it isn’t on the table.
“I was going to bring it when I picked you up tonight,” Bull says in between bites, keeping one eye on me but making no move to give me the phone.
“Did it ever occur to you that I have plans tonight?”
He snorts, then to my amusement starts coughing. Serves him right! After a long sip of water, he looks back up at me, “I doubt you know anyone under fifty around here. So no, that never crossed my mind.”
Ouch.The fact that he’s right stings a bit, but I simply hold my hand out, stubbornly refusing to ask for it.
“It also occurred to me that you have a 605 area code. People don’t typically change their numbers anymore,” he observes, spearing some of the pork and swiping it through the beans. My eye follows the fork as it moves up to his mouth, his lips making thorough work of cleaning the silver tines and I have to shake my head.
This man is dangerous. Sex never popped into my head while watching anyone eat before.
“Hmm?” The next sound he makes sounds more like a question than appreciation for the food, but considering the glint in his eyes, I’m no longer sure what the question is.
“What?” I ask, trying to buy myself a second.
“I was wondering why you got a new number, you know, right before you started eye-fucking me,” he responds.
Throwing my hand up as I roll my eyes is the worst denial in the history of the world, considering how red my neck is right now. He shifts, twisting so he’s ever so slightly facing me, and I see my green phone case peeking out of the inside pocket of his cut and without thinking, I reach out to pluck it from his pocket.
My fingers have barely brushed my phone before I realize that I’m springing the trap that he set. I gasp when he shifts back, trapping me between his legs and the high-top table. Before I can move, his mouth is covering mine and the taste of barbeque and whiskey transfer to me with a few swirls of his tongue.
I’d like to say that’s why I leaned into him but lying to myself never does any good.
“I’ll pick you up at five. Let your grandfather know you’ll be late,” his voice is a low growl when he withdraws his tongue and brushes his nose against mine. “Try to stick to one layer of clothing.”
“Five?” I question him, startled. “How old are you? Are we going for a senior discount somewhere?”
“We heading down to Rapid City. I’ve been wanting to try Justin Warner’s restaurant.” His answer stops any further dissent from me.
Guy’s Grocery Games is one of my favorite shows, so I immediately know who he’s talking about. If the Devil himself invited me there, I’d join him.
Of course, that may just be what’s happening here.
