Page 50 of Sweet as Sin (Bad Habit 1)
Before he could answer, I dashed after Chloe and Grace, closing the bedroom door behind me.
I found Chloe sitting on the edge of my bed, looking lost. Grace had pulled my oversized duffel bag out from the closet, and was calmly putting a pair of folded jeans into it. I watched her cross to my dresser, pull out several pairs of panties, socks, and T-shirts, and add them to the duffel.
“Grace.”
She didn’t stop packing. “I already know what you’re going to say, Kat. But you’re wrong. I don’t hate him.”
“You don’t?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice.
“No.”
“Even after what just happened? What you just warned me that’s going to keep happening if I keep seeing him?”
She glanced at me. Her hands fell still. I waited impatiently for her to speak. Even Chloe sat a little straighter.
“He’s not what I would’ve wanted for you. It’s too complicated, too risky, too . . . much. I still don’t trust him. And I still think it’s going to end in disaster, I’ve made that pretty clear. But—and this is a big, extenuating but—when a man acts as protective as Nico just did, it means he cares. A lot. He wasn’t at all concerned about how he was going to look to the press, or with how the police might react to his crazy chest-thumping Tarzan routine; he was only concerned with you. So, if nothing else, I’m convinced at least that he doesn’t see you as just another notch in his bedpost.” She resumed packing the duffel. “Obviously I still think this relationship will be about as stable as the Titanic, but after watching him go ballistic because you were upset, I’m keeping my mouth shut from here on out. Well, except for this small public service announcement: no glove, no love.”
I was touched. It wasn’t like Grace to cut men slack. Especially men of the galactic-ego variety. “Gee, Grandma, I think you’re getting soft in your old age.”
“Shut up,” she said mildly, “and go brush your teeth. That breath of yours is about to ignite something.”
So, after giving Grace a hug, I followed her advice. I hurriedly washed my face, brushed my teeth, stuck my hair in a ponytail, and changed my clothes. Then Grace and Chloe helped me put together the rest of what I’d need for a few days away.
A few days away . . . with Nico.
Titanic, here I come. Hope there’s room in the lifeboats.
Getting from my front door to the Escalades waiting on the street was like something out of a Schwarzenegger movie.
In the few minutes that had elapsed since Nico had shown up, more police vehicles had arrived, two news vans with satellite dishes had set up shop across the street, and what seemed like every neighbor within a fifty-mile radius had gathered, sensing blood. The scene was so bizarre, I wouldn’t have been surprised if psychotic assassin robots from the future leapt from the crowd, laser guns pointed at my head.
Not that I would have been able to see them. Grace, Chloe, and I all had jackets draped over our heads like burkas.
Or shrouds.
The jackets were Nico’s idea, one with which Grace wholeheartedly agreed. Talk about doing a one-eighty.
“I won’t be able to see where I’m going!”
My protest had been trounced by Grace’s logic, which, in typical fashion, trounced everything. “We’ll hold hands. Nico can lead. But the paparazzi won’t be able to see our faces, which is what they want. So, we win.”
Chloe said mournfully, “I see the headlines already. ‘Nico Nyx leads hidden harem from love den to limousines.’ I can only imagine what Miles will h
ave to say about this.”
“I thought you and Officer Cox were going to be making beautiful blond babies,” I reminded her.
She’d visibly brightened at the mention of his name. But it was short-lived. As soon as Nico opened the front door, all hell broke loose.
Then we ran the gauntlet.
Nico’s grip on my hand was so tight it hurt. I could only see my feet, his feet, and the pavement. Oh—and a lot of other feet all around, from everyone crowding in so close.
Apparently the police had failed miserably at keeping the paparazzi contained across the street.
Worse than the feet was the shouting, which rose to a roar as we progressed from the yard to the Escalades. I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Why are there so many of them?” Chloe screamed.
