Page 11 of Phantom
Chapter Five
Tess
A person with less resilience would be convinced that Colin didn’t share my harbored feelings about our childhood love. I’d given him more than one opportunity to take me any way he pleased, but he didn’t seem to be biting. His excuse that he was still recovering was just that, an excuse, and a weak one at that.
The only thing keeping me from thinking that Colin just didn’t want me was the fact that I could feel the heat emanating off of him as he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting downward. The notable clench in his jaw and his balling of his fists were resistance tactics I’d seen before. My brother had half of Hoppa scared shitless to even look at me. People don’t often consider it with women, but we have sexual urges, too. I’d used my wiles to lure more than one man back to my place who knew well what would happen to them if Taylor caught them in my bed. They pulled all the exact same things out of their bag of tricks. Clench their jaws to keep from speaking their true desires. Ball their fists to keep from reaching out. Colin’s case was even worse. I could see it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. He wanted me, too.
So why wouldn’t he take me?
I suppose this could be the one reason that I didn’t like Colin’s sterling coat of honor. Was he just practicing some sort of gentlemanly code? If we only had a couple weeks to be together, I really wished he’d just hang it up, just for a little while. Even if Taylor didn’t scare men away, none of them made me hot the same way Colin did. None of them made my heart race and skin prickle. I’d get to him, one way or another. If I didn’t, who knew when I’d get something exciting again, if ever.
Lockjaw stood up and padded over to me as I walked into the living room. I reached down and patted his head, saying, “Morning, buddy.” I looked up and saw Colin sitting on the couch with a collection of my supply of meat—cold cuts, hot dogs, and one of my specialty orders, prime cut steaks.
“That’s a mighty big breakfast,” I said with a snicker.
He pulled a piece of bologna out and whistled. “I’m making friends.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Lockjaw can’t be…”
I watched as Lockjaw traveled away from my side and back over to where Colin was sitting. Colin held up the slice of bologna and ordered, “Sit,” and Lockjaw obediently sat, lolling his tongue out in anticipation of his treat. “Good boy.” Colin dropped the cut, and Lockjaw snapped it out of the air, taking a few quick bites to gobble it down before eyeing the stash of meat and waiting patiently for his next orders. Colin looked up at me. “You were saying?”
I walked around the scene and into the kitchen with a smile. “Huh. I guess he isfood motivated.”
The truth was, Lockjaw wasnotfood motivated because I’d painstakingly trained him not to be. I always thought that there was a possibility that someone would come to retrieve what I’d lifted, but during the bike ride from Rumble to Hoppa, I’d grown attached to my stolen pup. The first thing I did when I woke up the day after we got back home was start Lockjaw on a long, arduous path of loyalty only to me, in spite of any motivators. Female dogs in heat, the promise of a good fight, and yes, even all types and qualities of meat were paraded before him while I trained him over the next six months to respond to my commands perfectly and exclusively.
I knew I’d done my job the day I had my dad set a freshly grilled prime T-bone steak down in front of Lockjaw and tell him that he could eat it. Lockjaw didn’t even blink. He kept his eyes on me with a cheery wag of his tail as if to say, “I’d like that steak, Mom, but I won’t eat it unless you say I can.” His reward was the steak, and my reward was the best security system a girl could steal.
The fact that Lockjaw was breaking the rules to take a few treats from Colin was an indicator that I wasn’t the only one in the house with a weakness for Colin and that Colin was the amazing guy I always thought he was. They say dogs and babies can tell, and if Lockjaw liked you, you were good, and that was it.
“Well, you’ve given all the meat to the dog. What’ll us humans eat for breakfast?” I opened the fridge and sifted through what was left. “Oh, you left some bacon. I could put that together with some eggs and fried potatoes?” When I didn’t get a response, I glanced up over the fridge door. Colin was just staring at me, but it wasn’t the lusty gaze I got in the bedroom. This was something calmer and sweeter, if not a bit conflicted. “What?”
“Oh, nothing,” he replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone cook for me before.”
“Never?”
He shook his head. “No. My mom didn’t, and when Caid and I got our own place, I did all the cooking.” He chuckled. “I never realized it before now.”
I couldn’t imagine. As much of a roughneck as he was, my dad always made sure Taylor and I were taken care of. “Well, there’s a first for everything.”
His smirk got a little wider. “Yeah. Thanks.”
There was only the sizzle of the food in the pan as I cooked it while Colin continued to try to butter up Lockjaw. I’d have to walk him double to undo the severe spike in calories. Still, the silence was almost welcoming. Normally, I hated the silence because it made me anxious, but things just felt peaceful with Colin around. I didn’t feel like I needed to fill it.
When the food was done, I made a nice-sized plate for Colin and brought it over. Lockjaw looked up at me. He usually got some of whatever I cooked for breakfast, but I shook my head at him. “Yeah, you’ve had enough for one morning, buddy.”
I grabbed my own plate with a smaller portion and went and sat in the armchair perpendicular to Colin, the same one Taylor had been in the night before.
That’s when I noticed for the first time that the floor was totally clean. “Oh my god.” I looked over to where the bloodstains should have been, but they, too, were gone. I looked over at Colin. “Did you clean up in here?”
Colin’s cheeks were so full he looked like a chipmunk. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Colin finished swallowing down his food before speaking again. “It’s like you said. I owe you.”
I sighed. Ididsay that, though it was mostly a ploy to work on Colin’s chivalry. It might have worked too well. “How did you get the blood out?”
“I was basically a parent to Caid. He would spasm and spill all the time. I had to know how to get rid of a stain.” He took a bite of his bacon. “You seemed disappointed about getting rid of it.”
