Page 52 of Golden Touch
He shakes his ridiculously attractive head. “I ran into Benny earlier. I casually asked him to run a license plate. I did it because you’re scared, and that seems wrong to me.”
“It’s not for you to decide!” I say. “You’re playing with my life, and you haveno right.”
He has the good sense to flinch.
Like an angry teenager, I storm out of the kitchen, march to my bedroom, and slam the door. I fling myself onto the bed and pick up my phone to call my cousin. I need a good vent.
It goes to voicemail. And now I’m trapped in here, and I haven’t put away the food or done the dishes.
After five minutes of fuming, I get up and march out to save my enchiladas for lunch tomorrow. It’s not like I can even go to the grocery store. With my car locked inside the loading bay away from Rotty’s prying eyes, I’m effectively trapped here.
But when I reach the kitchen, the food has already been handled by my smokin’ hot nemesis. His muscular arms flex as he scrubs out the baking dish.
So I stomp into the bathroom and brush my teeth instead.
CHAPTER 21
NASH
While I appreciate Benito’s help, it’s unfortunate that he decided to drop by instead of calling me. Livia is spooked.
And for good reason. I’d imagined that Livia’s troubles sprang from a vindictive ex who had a deranged friend who was willing to help him stalk her. I didn’t anticipate an entire motorcycle club and drug operation well known to the Vermont State Police.
Although it makes sense, now that I think about it. Livia doesn’t strike me as a girl who scares easily. I’ve only known her for a couple weeks, but I can already say she’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.
Now I have more of an inkling as to why she’s been so fucking scared. Benito lookedreallyinterested when she said she was a bookkeeper. And that’s when Livia completely lost her cool.
She must have done some bookkeeping work for this creepy ex before figuring out he was a criminal. That’s a surefire way to get the upper hand in a relationship—drag your girl into unlawful activity.
What a mess. How’s she supposed to extract herself from that? I glance at her closed door. She’s hiding here—as if this place were her prison.
A few hours later, I’m trying to sleep on the damn couch again. Maybe I’m only the temporary king of the Giltmaker empire, but I won’t let one of our employees be menaced by drug lords on our property. Especially when Livia has been busting her ass to look after my father’s interests while he can’t do it himself.
The couch is too small, and my back hates me. But I finally doze off. I dream that I’m out for the night in a bar, just like the first time I met Livia. She’s there, too. She keeps beckoning to me from across the room. But when I try to get to her, she vanishes.
This happens a few times until someone finally reaches out of the crowd and grabs my hand. It’s Livia. She pulls me outside a door that appears in the wall, because dreams are handy like that.
I follow her outside and press her up against the wall and kiss the living hell out of her. It’s glorious. Her hands are everywhere, and I’m a human octopus, finally able to touch her wherever I want.
We’re shameless. I’m just lifting her skirt when I hear the sound of an engine. It draws close enough that I can hear tires on gravel. My hands fall away from her body and form two fists.
That’s when I wake up suddenly, my hands actually in fists. And I hear footsteps outside, crossing the gravel lot.
Shit.
I sit up on the sofa, suddenly wide awake, my pulse elevated.
The air pressure in the room changes as I feel the bedroom door swing silently open behind me. I turn to see a freaked-out Livia standing in the doorway, eyes wide, wearing a long T-shirt and not much else.
Rising from the sofa, I pocket my phone. I head for the kitchen door, where my shoes are waiting for me. For the second time tonight, I push the curtain aside and peek outside.
It’s pitch dark now. Sadly, the brewery doesn’t have any parking lot lighting. My dad’s too cheap for that. But the darkness makes it easy to see a flashlight bobbing through thedarkness. I disengage the hotel lock and put my hand on the doorknob.
Livia’s footsteps sound from behind me. I look over my shoulder and find that she’s holding an old baseball bat. One ofmyold baseball bats, unless I’m mistaken. I probably left it here as a child. She offers it to me.
“You keep that,” I whisper.
“I have a second one.” she whispers back. “Nash, I heard two motorcycles. You don’t have to go out there.”
